According to Melissa, Peter was a high school biology teacher during the school year. His wife, a nurse, had previously rented the house Edmond and Dawn now occupied. Safe Harbor was definitely a small town, he mused as they approached Peter.
“Mr. Gladstone? Edmond Everhart.” He thrust out his hand, which Peter grasped firmly. “This is Dawn.”
“Hello, young lady.” Peter reached to shake her hand, too, but Dawn scurried behind Edmond. “This place can be scary, can’t it? It’s loud, too.”
Her head bobbed.
He waved over a girl with a snub nose and honey-brown hair. “My stepdaughter will explain to Dawn how things work. Mia turned eight a few weeks ago, so she’s in the next older group, but she’s a sports camp veteran.”
“Hi!” Mia gave Dawn a high-five. “My Mom told me about you. We used to live in your house. I have a black-and-white kitty named Po. Do you have any pets?”
“No.”
“Come on, I’ll show you where you’re s’posed to be.” Mia linked her arm through Dawn’s. “I have two baby brothers. A surrogate mommy gave birth to them last month. Their names are Jacob and Jason.”
“I’m going to have three baby sisters,” Dawn said. “They don’t have names yet.”
Mia whisked Dawn away before Edmond could correct that the triplets weren’t her sisters. Besides, he had a more pressing question, in view of the number of people milling around and the openness of the facility. “How do you maintain security?” he asked Peter.
“We check off each child’s whereabouts repeatedly throughout the day.” Peter showed him the tablet computer where he kept track. “Visitors are strictly monitored.” He indicated the badge Edmond had received when he signed in at the door. “You’re welcome to stop by at any time. Things appear hectic right now, but it’s quite different once the kids split into separate activities and the parents go home or to work.”
Reassured, Edmond yielded when another parent broke in with a question. This seemed as safe a locale as any for his niece.
Preparing to leave, he spotted Dawn standing with Mia near the bleachers under a banner reading K-2. Kindergarten through second grade, Edmond translated mentally. Soon the jargon would become second nature, no doubt.
The two girls were talking animatedly. When Edmond waved, Dawn waved back almost perfunctorily.
Already she was making friends, Edmond thought as he wove his way through arriving parents and campers. Funny thing was, he had a twinge of disappointment at being so readily displaced.
Maybe that was how real parents felt, too.
* * *
EDMOND ARRIVED AT the hospital half an hour early for his first appointment and decided to stop by Melissa’s office. If she was busy, he could leave, but he found he wanted to tell her everything that had happened since she’d left the other day.
Edmond walked down the hallway to the fertility program offices. He’d expected to pop in to see Melissa unobserved, but he hadn’t reckoned on the eagle eye of the receptionist.
“Hey there!” Caroline Carter swung around from a file cabinet, setting a manila folder atop the open drawer. “How do you like the house?”
Since she’d recommended it and provided a referral to the landlord, she deserved more than a superficial answer. “Lovely. A bit cavernous until I buy more furniture, but it’s nice not bumping into the walls every few steps.”
“Is Dawn enjoying sports camp?” she asked. “I’ll bet Mia showed her the ropes. She’s a little sweetheart.”
Did the woman track everything? Edmond didn’t mind, considering how helpful she was.
“Dawn and Mia have become fast friends, and Peter Gladstone’s a nice guy.” Since Melissa had just appeared in the doorway of her office, Edmond addressed his summary to her, as well.
“That reminds me, the Gladstones write children’s books about backyard biology,” Caroline said. “I brought you one.”
“That’s very kind of you.” Edmond was impressed by her generosity. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I ordered a whole stack,” Caroline said. “I’m proud to know the authors.”
“Harper takes the photos and Peter writes the text,” Melissa added.
“Where do they find the energy?” As Edmond recalled, the couple had one little girl, two babies and two jobs.
“I doubt they’ve done any writing since the twins were born.” From a desk drawer, Caroline handed him a book with a stunning cover photo of a butterfly. “It explains how to identify insects in your yard. Mia added her photos and comments, too.”
“That little girl’s an author?” Leafing through it, Edmond was impressed with the quality of the pictures and the easy-to-read layout and text. “They’ve done an impressive job. Thank you, Caroline.”
“Enjoy!”
“Many of those were shot in your yard,” Melissa noted as he followed her into her office. “Dawn should love that.”
“I love it, too.” He looked forward to sharing the book with his niece.
“Things went well this morning?” Melissa closed the door behind them.
“Sports camp, yes. However, we did run into a rough patch earlier.” He described the cooking incident and how he’d handled it.
“That was wise.” As she sat in her chair, Melissa rubbed her belly. Forestalling his question, she explained, “Just some stretching pains in my abdomen. I have a doctor’s appointment today. I’m hoping I won’t have to limit my activities for another few weeks.”
Concern jolted through him. How frustrating that, just when the risks from her pregnancy were increasing, his obligations to Dawn limited his ability to assist her. Now he might not even see her at work, and, to be honest, he’d come to rely on her as a friend and a sounding board. “Let me know what I can do.”
“I will.” She folded her hands on the desk. “Now, let’s hear about sports camp. How’s Dawn taking it?”
He sketched the experience, drawing a smile as he described the girls’ busy chatter. “Mia seems very secure, considering the changes in her life.”
“Yes, she does.”
His thoughts turned to the twins. “Do the Gladstones leave their babies in the hospital child center while they work?” He presumed Melissa would do the same with her triplets.
“Harper’s on leave,” she said. “Twins are a challenge, even for an experienced mom, although not having to recover from a pregnancy makes things easier, I’m sure.”
What about you? He wondered how she as a single mother could cope with so many babies alone.
Melissa always seemed organized and in control, the person that everyone else depended on. Only once during their marriage had she fallen apart, after her parents’ deaths, crying in his arms and admitting she felt overwhelmed by the details of arranging funerals and settling their estates.
Edmond had been grateful for the chance to comfort her and take on some of her burdens. Then, just as she was recovering from her grief, his own mother had died, and Melissa had slipped into support mode.
He certainly didn’t wish for her to fall apart again. But he hoped she’d lean on him if she needed to.
Her next question pulled him out of his musings. “How are you coping with fixing meals?”
“Tonight, we’re eating with Dad and Isabel,” he said. “I want her to stay in close touch with them. But tomorrow night, I’ll be cooking—under Dawn’s supervision.”
She smiled. “That’s funny.”
Yes, it was. “The problem is what to do after dinner. How do I entertain her?”
“You can explore your yard with the book,” she suggested.
“Terrific idea.” That should occupy an hour or two. “And we can write about it to Barbara.”
“Also a chance for Dawn to practice her writing skills.”
/> “Right.” So they’d come up with enough activities to fill one evening. That only left 364 in the year. “Any suggestions for what we can do on Wednesday?”
“Edmond!” Melissa started to lean forward, then cried out.
For a shocked moment, he feared she was suffering premature labor and might lose the babies. The intensity of his dread surprised him. So did the fact that he pictured the triplets for the first time not as blurry squiggles but as small precious girls like Dawn. Well, that’s what they would be, eventually.
“Don’t panic,” she said, smiling. “Just normal aches and pains again.”
“What a relief.”
“I was about to point out that you don’t have to entertain children every minute,” Melissa said. “Dawn’s seven, not a toddler. Once you share the book with her, let her poke around the yard on her own.”
“Unsupervised?”
“The yard is fenced,” Melissa said. “If you prefer, you can sit on the patio or watch from the kitchen.”
“I suppose she is old enough for that. Still, I’ll keep a close eye on her until I know her better.” After all, Edmond had never anticipated Dawn would cook breakfast on her own. Who could guess what else she might do? “Now I have clients to meet and I’m sure you do, too.”
“Pardon me if I don’t stand up.”
Rising, he came around the desk for a quick kiss. “I’ll let you know if there’s any news about my father’s condition.”
“Please do. I’ve been reluctant to trouble Isabel.”
As soon as he left, he thought of a dozen other things to mention, the kind of small matters that married couples discussed over breakfast or supper. Would the two of them ever be like that again?
Edmond set the thought aside. Obviously, events had made that impossible.
* * *
MELISSA COULD HAVE sworn she had read fear on her ex-husband’s face in response to her cramp. Had that been purely for her safety, or for the babies, too?
Being around Dawn was changing him or, she believed, bringing out a capacity for fatherhood he’d long suppressed. Edmond cared deeply about his sister, but taking on responsibility for her too young and then running head-on into her teen rebellion had apparently convinced him that parenting brought only disappointment and stress.
Damn his stubbornness! If only he wasn’t too stubborn to see what was so obvious to her. Maybe then they could all be a family....
Voices in the outer office reminded Melissa that she had clients arriving, and her daydreams were getting her nowhere. Opening the notes in her computer, she prepared to guide another couple on their journey to parenthood.
Chapter Fifteen
“What kind of butterfly is that?” Peering into the bushes in the early-evening twilight, Dawn squinted through the camera. It had been her idea to take pictures for her letter to her mother.
Edmond searched fruitlessly for a matching shot in the book. “The plain white kind,” he improvised. “Or else it’s a moth.”
“Uncle Eddie!” she protested as she pressed the button. “Try harder.”
With a sigh, he flipped further into the book. They’d had fun cooking dinner. Dawn had showed him how to stir the pasta and how long to heat the sauce in the microwave. He’d demonstrated tossing the salad, and although some had landed on the floor, he’d been rewarded when she discovered that, to her surprise, she liked salad—with a generous dose of ranch dressing.
Afterward, Edmond had been intrigued by the first half hour of insect-watching, mostly because of Dawn’s excitement. After a long day at the office, however, his energy was lagging.
“We might have to wait till tomorrow to find out what it is,” he said. “We can ask Peter at sports camp.”
“You promised we’d write Mommy tonight!”
Although Barbara wouldn’t care whether they identified the butterfly, it mattered to Dawn, so he tried again. Peering at the book in the fading light, Edmond spotted a prospect. “Here! It’s a Cabbage White butterfly.”
Dawn studied the page. “It’s pretty.”
“Yes, but it’s a pest,” Edmond noted, reading the text. “The larvae—the baby caterpillars—eat vegetables.”
“So do we,” his niece retorted. “Does that make us pests?”
He laughed. “You have an unusual view of the world.” Still, it was getting late. “Now that we’ve identified it, let’s go write the letter.”
“Okay.” Dawn might be stubborn, but she complied readily when he proposed something she’d enjoy.
Inside, they downloaded the picture to Edmond’s laptop, where he opened a blank document. The completed letter would be printed out and sent by regular mail.
He wished phone calls were allowed, but Barbara was still awaiting assignment to a specific prison. Much as he wanted assurance of how she was doing, he was grateful she’d requested no visits until she was settled. The long drive would be grueling, especially while he and Dawn were establishing a routine.
He helped his niece insert the photo into the document and let her write about their insect hunt, taking over only when she became frustrated by her mistakes. Also, he told his sister that their father had set up an appointment with a specialist.
During dinner with his parents last night, only Dawn’s chatter about sports camp had prevented an awkward silence. Mort had been withdrawn and ill-tempered, while Isabel had been unusually low-spirited. Edmond omitted that from the letter, though.
After they proofread, printed and signed it, Dawn kept flexing her fingers. “Is there something else you’d like to write?” Edmond asked as he folded the paper into an envelope.
“I wish I could write to Daddy.” She shot him an apprehensive glance.
Edmond weighed how to respond. Much as he’d despised Simon, the man had been Dawn’s father. Recalling that Dr. Brightman had urged him to validate whatever emotions she experienced, he said, “You must miss him.”
“Yes.” Sitting at the kitchen table where they’d been working, she stared down at her hands. “Is it wrong to love somebody who did bad things?”
“Feelings aren’t right or wrong. They’re natural, and they’re okay.” Therapy had taught him that. “You told me once that you were mad at your daddy. You aren’t still angry?”
“I got mad when he was mean, but he could be nice, too.” Tears trembled on her eyelashes as she gazed up at her uncle.
That raised a topic that worried Edmond, even though Dr. Brightman had detected no indications of abuse. “Did he ever hit you, or touch you in a way that was uncomfortable?”
She blinked, frowning. “He just yelled when I got in the way.”
“Anything else?” He waited, in case she had more to say.
Out the rear window, he had a view of the darkening rear yard, with only a few lights from neighboring houses peeping through the bushes. What a peaceful place, the opposite of the apartment complex where he’d once visited Dawn and his sister. Graffiti had festooned the walls, angry voices had echoed, and a couple of slouching teenagers in gang-style clothing had lounged out front, watching Edmond as if weighing whether he posed a threat. Or perhaps whether they wanted to threaten him.
“Daddy took me to meet Santa Claus at the mall.” Dawn’s little chest heaved. “He said he always wished his daddy had done that for him.”
Even that crook Simon had once been a vulnerable child, Edmond reflected. “If you want, I’ll take you to the mall next Christmas.”
She nodded. “I’d like that.”
Abruptly, Edmond recalled a holiday when he’d escorted Barbara to the North Pole display at the mall while their mother was buying Christmas presents. Although his sister had been older than Dawn was now, her face had shone the same way, full of innocence and trust. If she went so wrong despite my best efforts to guide
her, how can I be sure Dawn’s life won’t get messed up, too?
He’d put that question to Franca a few weeks ago, hoping for a definitive answer. The counselor’s response had been that each person reacts differently to adolescence. Even the most ideal parents have no guarantee of how a child will develop.
Edmond closed his laptop. If only he could wrap Dawn in a cocoon and keep her safe until she was grown.
“Can Aunt Lissa come over?” she asked out of the blue. “I want to see how the babies are growing.”
He searched for an excuse. “Honey, she shouldn’t do any extra driving while she’s pregnant.”
“Then let’s go over there.”
He was tired of beating around the bush. And hadn’t he resolved to be honest with her? “Remember at breakfast yesterday, when we talked about rules?” he said.
Dawn pressed her lips together. “Mmm-hmm.”
“This isn’t exactly a rule,” Edmond admitted. “But Dr. Brightman believes it’s important for you and me to spend time alone together, without anyone else. You’ve lost your dad and have to live apart from your mom. I’m the person who’ll always be here for you.”
“But can’t I still see my aunt?” she asked earnestly.
“Yes, occasionally. But Dr. Brightman’s afraid you’ll be hurt when Aunt Lissa gets busy with the triplets.”
“I can help,” Dawn assured him. “In our old apartment, I used to babysit for the lady next door.”
“You did?” Surely neither the mother nor Barbara had been negligent enough to leave this child alone with an infant. “By yourself?”
“I mean, while Mrs. Lawrence was napping,” Dawn clarified. “She showed me how to change Ginny’s diaper and feed her a bottle, too.”
“Ah.” He supposed that was all right, as long as the mother had been on the premises. “Mrs. Lawrence must have been fond of you.”
The Surprise Triplets Page 15
