by Lilian Darcy
“If you can’t, I’m here. Try.”
And she knew he was asking for much more than simply making it to the couch.
So she tried.
This is my baby. I love her. She’s precious and tiny and such a massive bundle of potential. Dev and I made her. She’s the two of us in combination, but she’s unique. She’s dynamite. She might be president, someday. An Olympic champion, a world-famous musician, a beloved wife. Beautiful and clever and kind and brave.
Who are you, DJ? When will you stop crying? When will you smile at me?
They climbed the steps. The cabin was cool inside, shaded by the nearby woods, its screened windows thrown open so that the breeze came right through. The place was so new it still smelled like cedar and pine.
Jodie reached the couch and sank into its softness. Dev slid a pillow beneath her arm for DJ’s head. She wasn’t so frantic now, but still she was crying. The sound and movement of it consumed her whole body and she didn’t even seem to know that she was cradled in someone’s arms.
Her mother’s arms.
“I have a bottle made up for her,” Dev said. “It’s in the diaper bag. She’ll need it warmed up, but that’ll only take a minute or two.”
They seemed endless, those minutes. DJ’s eyes were screwed tight with crying. Jodie tried smiling down at her. Babies smiled when they saw someone smiling at them. So far it hadn’t worked for her and it wasn’t going to work today. “I love you, precious girl,” she said, wondering what punishment life had in store for a woman who lied to her own baby.
“Here,” Dev finally said, handing her the cylinder of plastic, warmed to blood heat.
Jodie shoved it into DJ’s mouth. Oh, she didn’t mean to do that, but her muscles weren’t cooperating and it just happened. The plastic circle that kept the rubber teat in place bumped hard against DJ’s gums and the baby shrieked.
“Oh, no… Oh, no…” Jodie said.
“It’s okay. Did you slip?”
“Yes.”
“It’s okay.”
“I hurt her.”
“She’s forgotten about it already.”
And she had. Her little pink mouth had closed around the teat and she knew exactly what to do. She sucked it and the bottle began to make a singing sound as it emptied. “Will she get gas?”
“Give her a break. Lift her onto your shoulder and pat her back. Can you do that?”
“I think so.” Clumsy, but still. DJ gave a burp and then a big wobble. Jodie half expected her to start crying again but she didn’t, and with Dev’s help she was soon in that lovely cradle position again, crooked in Jodie’s left arm, beneath her breast, ready to finish her liquid meal.
She slowed toward the end of it. She was getting sleepy again. Jodie thought about enlisting Dev’s help to put her down in the bassinet he’d brought, but decided there was no hurry. Okay, so DJ hadn’t smiled yet, but she wasn’t crying. Okay, so there was no overwhelming wave of love like the one Jodie had caught such a short, lovely glimpse of in her own heart at Oakbank, but still, this felt… It felt…
Peaceful.
Unhurried.
Unpressured.
Worthwhile.
Maybe I’ll close my eyes for a little, too…
She woke up when Dev took DJ gently from her arms. “How long was I—?”
“Half an hour or so.”
“And you’ve been sitting there the whole time in case I let her fall.”
“Not the whole time. I took out some insurance.” He gestured to a big, soft nest of pillows laid out on the floor in front of the couch. “She wouldn’t have gone far. So I did some unpacking, set up the kitchen. It’s beautiful outside. Hot, but there’s a breeze, and the woods are shady. Want to explore?”
DJ did. She was wide-awake, bouncing in her daddy’s arms, a pink frenzy of energy. With a dexterity borne of experience, Dev strapped her into her little front pouch carrier, facing forward so she could see everything that was going on.
“I’d love to explore,” Jodie told him. “Let me change out of this skirt, though.”
Dev screwed up his face and said slowly, “Yeah, about that…”
She gave him a questioning look.
“Remember in the car when you questioned your dad’s capabilities in the packing department?”
“Uh, yes, I do.”
“Well, you’ll see for yourself.”
“You’re scaring me now.” She stood up and made her way to the bedroom at the back of the cabin that looked out onto the woods. It was a lovely room, spacious and clean-lined, with the greenery outside giving it a cool light.
Dev and DJ followed her into the room and she saw that he’d opened the suitcase Dad had packed for her, but had left it on the bed with the top flipped back and everything still in place inside. “Just so you don’t check the contents and decide I sabotaged them,” he said. “This is exactly the way he had it.”
She looked at the tangle of garments in the crammed piece of luggage. “This is it? This is what he packed?”
“I gave him a list, remember? He told me he’d followed it.”
She looked some more, dipped her hands into the tangle and pulled out a pair of scarlet pantyhose she’d once worn as a Moulin Rouge dancer to a fancy dress ball. “Can I ask what was on the list?”
“Underwear and socks, a swimsuit, something warm in case the nights chill down, a couple of outfits for going out, daywear, et cetera.”
She rummaged a little more. “Well, okay, I guess it’s all there.”
She set everything out on the bed, while Dev and DJ watched. DJ seemed to love the color and movement.
Item one—what looked to be the entire contents of her underwear and sock drawer, and she’d had “tidy underwear drawer” on her to-do list for a good six months before the accident. She thought about apologizing for the number of bras, since Dev had been the one to lug the suitcase inside, but didn’t want to call attention to it.
For some reason, he seemed to be smiling.
“Did, um, my family toss any of my stuff when they moved it out of the cottage at Oakbank?”
“You tell me. You seem to own forty pairs of socks now. How many did you own before?”
“What can I say? Horse people need a lot of socks.” She turned back to the suitcase.
Item two—a chocolate-brown halter-neck bikini she hadn’t worn in five years, because on vacation in Florida where she’d bought it, it hadn’t seemed too skimpy, but in Ohio it definitely did. Well, at least it didn’t weigh much.
No comment from Dev.
But he was still smiling. Or had it progressed to a grin at this point?
Item three—the huge, vibrantly colored and fringed silk-and-wool gypsy shawl was warm, for sure, and finely woven and beautiful, but she kept it hanging in her room more as a decoration than something to wear.
“Where’d that come from?” Dev asked.
“Lisa bought it for me when they went to Europe.”
“I think DJ likes it.” Facing out at his chest height, she was kicking her legs and flapping her arms. Not smiling, but close.
Item four—the bridesmaid dresses from Maddy’s and Lisa’s weddings. Maddy had gone for a sophisticated look, and her bridesmaids had worn strapless gold-and-silver sheaths. Lisa had wanted a Victorian feel with a hint of burlesque, which for some reason added up to sage-green satin overlaid with black lace. DJ liked both of those, too.
Item five—a single summer top, one pair of shorts and some hiking boots. “Those will team great with the shawl once the sun goes down,” Dev said.
“Well, as long as I color-coordinate the socks…” She’d reached the bottom of the suitcase. “There’s no pajamas or shoes.”
“Huh. Sorry. My bad.” He spread his hands, but they were grinning at each other, because how could you not? The whole bed was a mess of fabric and balled socks.
“Or toothbrush or makeup.”
“Those were meant to be covered by the et cetera.”
/>
“Not as far as Dad was concerned, apparently.”
“I should have checked.”
“Or brush or comb or shampoo.” She looked helplessly at the mess and thought of Dad, Dev’s coconspirator, his intentions so good and the result so…not. “It’s too funny, Dev. I love it!”
“You do?” DJ jiggled her little legs some more, against his front.
“It’s so Dad. It’s— Mom and Elin would have packed perfectly and sensibly and used up three suitcases. Dad just wanted us to make a clean getaway and didn’t think it through.”
“The clean-getaway part was pretty important.”
“Yep.”
“So…shop first and then explore the place, or the other way around?”
“The other way around. I didn’t come all this way to buy a toothbrush. Even the hospital gift shop had those.”
“And dinner out tonight, I’m thinking. Some low-key kind of place where they won’t hate us for bringing a baby.”
“Is there any other kind of place in Southern Ohio? Not sure I’ll be wearing either of those dresses, though.”
They took an easy ramble around the cabin, finding the start of the trail through the woods, a bench for sitting and looking at the view over the rolling woods and farmlands, a stone birdbath, and a newly planted stretch of garden that would look fabulous in a few years, especially in spring when the dogwood trees came into their extravagant white and pink colors.
With the baby right in the thick of things against Dev’s front, Jodie expected him to push her a little, the way he had earlier when she’d been crying in the car, but he didn’t and she was thankful for that. She needed breathing space. She couldn’t bear to rush, or push herself.
In case DJ felt her tension and doubt.
In case Dev guessed just how blocked and lost she was, and despised her for it.
“It’s so peaceful here,” she said, aware of him watching her too closely, as he sometimes did. Did he see as much as DJ? She mustn’t let him see. “So beautiful.”
Look at the beauty, Dev, don’t look at me.
Beyond a field of tall corn, they could see the farmhouse belonging to this piece of land. Jodie wondered if they’d meet the owners during their stay. She’d like to thank them for this place. “We’ll definitely be back,” she would want to tell them, but she didn’t know if that would be possible. Who was “we”? Herself and DJ? All three of them?
“Like it, then?” Dev asked.
“Very much.”
“DJ seems pretty happy, too.” Okay, that was a push from him. The baby dangled against his front, completely at home in that position.
Because Dev expected it—and because she knew he was right—Jodie said to her, as brightly as she could, “Are you happy, DJ? Are you having fun?” And DJ gazed back at her with those big, wise eyes and didn’t smile.
Chapter Eleven
That night, as planned, they went to a family-style place where no one minded that DJ lay in her stroller right beside the table and sat on Dev’s lap for her bottle, and where there was a change table in a space of its own adjacent to the bathroom. The place quickly filled up with groups of all sizes, parents and grandparents and kids, couples with toddlers, dads with daughters, moms with sons.
An older couple came past on the way to their table, while Dev and Jodie waited for their entrées, and paused when they saw the baby, back in her stroller and growing sleepy. “Oh, she’s beautiful!” the woman said.
“I’m sorry,” the woman’s husband apologized, standing back a little. “She never can resist a baby.”
“It’s fine,” Dev said. “We think she’s pretty hard to resist, too.”
Jodie smiled and nodded and felt so exposed.
“How old is she?” The woman turned instinctively to Jodie.
Because I’m the mom.
“I— She’s—” Her mind went blank and she didn’t have the right answer. Did she say four months? DJ looked too small for that. So did she explain right away that the baby was born early?
“Almost four months,” Dev answered easily, before Jodie had solved the dilemma in her head. He’d met these kinds of questions before. “She’s tiny!”
He’d met this reaction before, also. His answer was as easy and cheerful as before. “Getting bigger as fast as she knows how.”
“What’s her name?”
“We call her DJ.”
“Oh, but that’s short for something, right? My niece is CJ, short for Caroline Jean.”
“We haven’t decided yet, so for the moment it’s just DJ.”
“You haven’t decided? And she’s four months old? Well, if that don’t beat all!” The woman laughed, not unkindly but definitely in surprise, as if today’s new parents were a mystery to her, in a cute sort of way.
Jodie said quickly, “I like DJ. I can’t imagine calling her anything else.”
“Well, she is adorable.”
“You make a beautiful family,” her husband said, and the couple moved on.
“You like DJ?” Dev echoed quietly, once they were out of earshot. He leaned a little closer across the table and she felt their complicated connection like honey melting over her.
“I do. It belongs to her now.” She remembered that shocking day four weeks ago when she’d found Dev at his front door with his crying daughter in his arms. “It’s…how we were introduced.”
He sat back again. “I’m sorry, it just worked out that way.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“We do need to find something, though, or she’ll get that woman’s reaction about her initials for the rest of her life.”
“Dani Jane,” Jodie blurted out, because suddenly it seemed important for DJ to have a proper name, one that came from her mom, one that was chosen with joy, even if no one used it very often.
“Yeah?” The intent look came again, coupled with a spark deep in his eyes. “You want it to be Dani Jane?”
“I don’t know where it came from. But I just had a feeling. It’s kind of sassy and strong, as well as being feminine. It’s not too big a step away from DJ. When she’s older, it gives her some choices about what she calls herself.”
“I like it. What do you think, baby girl?”
But DJ had fallen asleep and couldn’t give an opinion. Their meal arrived, in the form of two steaming plates of home-style meat and vegetables—one meat loaf, one sirloin tips. The other adult diners were tucking into similarly hearty fare, while kids mostly had plates of nuggets and fries or spaghetti with meatballs. There were at least four high chairs in use, and lots of messy kid faces streaked in ketchup or sporting milk moustaches.
“We fit right in,” Jodie said.
“Weird, huh?” He frowned, suddenly.
“Not so weird.”
“Different, then.”
“You don’t like it?” All Jodie wanted right now was to fit in, to be a normal mom.
“Let’s just say, I’m a little suspicious when I fit in too well.”
“You’re an outlaw at heart?”
“I like a little adventure, for sure.”
“This gravy is an adventure, as far as I’m concerned. What is that?” She speared a dark blob.
“Mushroom, I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay, not such an adventure. Well, but it is, actually. Just being here. When a few months ago I was…nowhere. Something strange happened at first, Dev, although it’s ebbing now. Sometimes when I smelled or tasted or touched something, the sensation was so strong and new. The day of the barbecue, when Dad was cooking those onions. It was as if no one in the world had ever smelled fried onions before, and the ketchup, too. It was like discovering gravity or gold.”
“I’ve had that feeling sometimes with DJ,” he answered slowly. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. As if I’m the first person in the world ever to take care of a baby. Just the smell of her hair…”
“Adventures and experiences don’t have to be big and sp
lashy, do they? The tiniest moments can be precious, and so fresh they sparkle.”
“That’s true…” His eyes had gone smoky and thought ful.
I just wish I could find those moments with our baby, she wanted to tell him. I wish the smell of her hair would make me feel as if the whole world was new. I wish I could see her smile for me.
Should she say it?
But she left it too long and the moment passed and she was too scared. It was good being here with Dev. She couldn’t bear to spoil it, couldn’t stand the idea of seeing his face change if she said too much about what was and wasn’t in her heart.
DJ stayed asleep for the whole of their meal but wakened and grew fussy as they drove back to the cabin. Dev could tell that Jodie was tired, she knew, and he gave her the kind of easy way out she’d come to expect from her mother and sisters, not from him.
“You need a good night’s sleep. Find something to read from that shelf of books to lull you off, and I’ll take care of DJ. She can sleep in my room upstairs, and that way we won’t disturb you if we’re up in the night.”
She should have argued. A normal mom would. A normal mom would never have reached the point where her baby was four months old and she’d never yet wakened in the night to handle a feed or a diaper change. But she didn’t want to argue. What if she did wake for DJ and couldn’t get the baby to settle again? What if she ended up calling for Dev because nothing was working, including her left hand as she attempted a solo diaper change?
To hide her feelings, she teased, “I must have worked pretty hard today to get that kind of a break.”
But he was very serious when he answered. “You did great today, Jodie. You named her.”
“I—I guess I did. Must have really taken it out of me, because I’m wiped.” Don’t cry, Jodie. Don’t let him see. Step back so he doesn’t feel how close you are to the edge. “Thank you,” she said, falling back on those very useful words, not even knowing what she was thanking him for, right now. “In that case, I’ll see you in the morning.”
For nearly an hour she lay in bed listening to the sounds he made as he took care of DJ, settled her in her bassinet, then relaxed in the living area with music playing.
