by Holly Jacobs
Mrs. Martin smiled. “Jamie. I like that.”
“Then you don’t mind that he has the last name Martin?” Laura had worried about that. She knew it might be easier if she and the baby had the same last name, but she and Jay had always intended for both Jamie and herself to be Martins. And even if she’d never be, she could give that legacy to her son. “I mean, Jay and I never…”
“Jay was married to you in his heart,” Mrs. Martin said. “A piece of paper wouldn’t have made his commitment or feelings any stronger. He’d love that you named the baby after him.”
“Well, then, I can tell the nurse it’s official. I was waiting until I checked with you.”
“Laura, we need to talk—” Mrs. Martin said.
Laura couldn’t do it. She couldn’t talk to them right now. Her emotions were too close to the surface. “No. Not now, please. Not yet. I want to take my son home.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. But later, please.”
Laura didn’t agree. She knew that Mrs. Martin wanted to talk about Jay’s death. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. Images kept assaulting her, especially here in the hospital. The same hospital where Jay had been.
One week after Mrs. Martin had blown up at her about Jay, she’d called Laura, frantic. Laura remembered that day and the days that followed with frightening clarity.
In her experience, memories faded. They grew soft around the edges. But this memory stayed clear and strong. As if someone had adjusted the focus and held it tightly there. She’d gone back to that room, to that instant so many times.
“The doctor said he’s dying. Despite the machines, his body’s shutting down,” Jay’s mother sobbed over the phone.
Laura’s first inclination was to tell her that Jay had been dead for more than a week, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “I’ll be right there.”
She’d visited every day, even though she knew in her heart that Jay was already dead.
She’d walked into the hospital, with its brightly lit lobby, and down the hall to the elevator bank, through the labyrinth of halls to Jay’s room. And every day, it had been the same. His mother would be there and inform her there were no changes in his condition. No improvements.
When she said the words, Laura wanted to snap that of course there were no improvements, he was dead. How did you improve on that? She’d watch his chest rise and fall because of the ventilator, and know this wasn’t what he wanted. And she’d blame his parents.
But she knew arguing with them wouldn’t work, so she didn’t say the words.
As she navigated the corridors, she admitted it could be for the last time. If his body was finally acknowledging what the doctors had known for a week, he’d let go and she wouldn’t be back here. Instead, they’d take his body across the street to the funeral home.
She’d known it was coming, but thinking it made her shake.
She went into the room. The Martins were sitting on the opposite side of the bed. She gave them a brief nod, then took Jay’s hand in hers, and gently kissed his cheek.
She waited the next hour until, finally, Jay went into cardiac arrest. A medical team came into the room and started trying to restart his heart. It was brutal and so senseless. “Stop,” Laura cried. “Stop.”
“No,” Jay’s mom choked out. “No. I can’t lose him yet.”
The team continued to work, then, without discussing it, they arrived at some sort of mutual agreement. One of the nurses listened to Jay’s heart. “He’s gone.”
Mrs. Martin sank into cries of uncontrollable anguish. Mr. Martin stood stoically behind her without saying anything. Laura simply stood and looked at the lifeless body of the man she loved. He’d died.
And all their dreams for the future had died with him.
NOW, SIX MONTHS LATER, Jay’s mother held his son. Cradling him. Cooing over him until the nurse came in with a wheelchair. “It’s time to go now, Mom.”
“We could take you home,” Mrs. Martin offered.
“Thank you, but Seth is here for that.”
“Laura, we’d really like to stop in and see you and the baby,” Mrs. Martin asked apprehensively.
Laura didn’t doubt they wanted to see the baby—Jay’s son—but they’d proven six months ago that they didn’t care about her. When they’d cut her out of the decisions about Jay, they’d treated her like the outsider she was. “That would be fine, though I’d appreciate it if you phoned first, in case Jamie’s sleeping.”
“If you need anything in the meantime, you call. Night or day, it doesn’t matter,” Mr. Martin said.
“I’m sure I won’t, but thank you.”
“Laura, I’m sorry. I—”
Laura knew the Martins hurt as much as she did. She knew they’d thought they were doing what was best for Jay, but in her heart, she couldn’t get beyond the anger over what they’d put Jay through. She didn’t want to hear her apologies. She didn’t want to have this conversation, so she cut her off. “The nurse is waiting, Mrs. Martin.”
Jay’s mother looked disappointed, but nodded. “Yes, yes. I’ll call in a few days.”
“That would be fine.”
“Laura,” Mr. Martin said. “We really are sorry.”
“I really have to go now, Mr. Martin. I don’t want to make Seth wait any longer.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Slowly, Mrs. Martin handed the baby back to Laura and let Mr. Martin lead her from the room. Laura waited to feel guilt, anger or even pity for Jay’s parents. She felt a mixture of all those emotions, but couldn’t sort them out. At least not yet. She stared at her son instead and let the rush of love calm her. Center her.
Moments later, as Laura settled herself in the wheelchair, Seth was there. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Fine, fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” She realized how defensive she sounded and added, “Really, I’m fine.”
Seth’s expression said he didn’t believe her, but he let it go. “Come on then. Let’s get this little guy home.”
The nurse packed up a cart with Laura’s bag and the flowers that the teachers at school had sent, and the ones that Jay’s group had sent.
Laura had given Seth a key to the house to get the car seat for her, and he already had it installed like an old pro in the backseat of the truck. When she commented, he said, “The police department pairs up with the different organizations in town and does car seat checks for parents, so I’ve had a lot of practice.”
With Seth’s help, she got into the truck. As he closed the door, the cloying scent of flowers was overpowering. That’s how Jay’s funeral had smelled. Seth drove past Kloecker’s Funeral Home. Sitting in a car that smelled of flowers, having seen Jay’s parents and now driving past the funeral home was too much. Laura felt tears well up in her eyes. She turned toward the window, not wanting Seth to see her cry.
The smell of flowers. That’s what stood out most in her memory of Jay’s funeral.
Lines of people. Some she knew, some she didn’t. All hugging her and expressing their sympathy.
That very nice funeral director who seemed to sense the tension between her and the Martins. Though they’d offered to let her sit in the limo with them after the service on the way to the cemetery, she declined. She’d opted to drive alone. Standing amidst all those strangers, listening to the minister talk about seasons, and how it was Jay’s time, she’d wanted to scream: no. No, it wasn’t his time. This shouldn’t be his place.
He should be alive.
He should be here.
With her and his newborn son.
Tears ran freely down her cheeks as she stared out the window heading home with her fatherless son.
CHAPTER SIX
SETH KNEW LAURA WAS UPSET about the chief and his wife’s visit, but he didn’t know what to say. Laura and Jamie were both quiet on the ride home.
As they pulled into her driveway, Seth broke the silence. “I’ll confess, I let JT into the house to finish Jamie’s mural.”
“She didn’t have to do that.”
“But she wanted to.” He got Laura’s bags and the flowers, while she got the baby.
They walked into the house and sniffed. “What’s that?” she asked.
“Beef stew. It’s in the Crock-Pot, so it’s ready whenever you’re hungry, and there will definitely be leftovers for tomorrow.” He paused. “You do like stew, right?”
“I do. But, Seth, you didn’t have to.”
She was wrong. He did have to. Oh, he wanted to walk away. He’d stayed with her at the hospital, he’d been there for her while she gave birth. That should be enough. More than enough. But rather than leaving, he followed her farther into the house.
“It’s just stew,” he said. “I work tonight and wanted to be sure you were fed. I remember when my mother brought home my youngest sister. We were all adopted, so Mom hadn’t given birth… She said those late-night feedings did her in. All us older kids pitched in and helped. I wanted to do the same for you.”
He was certain Laura would protest that she could manage on her own, but all she said was, “Thank you. I think I’m going to put Jamie down in his bedroom.”
“Wait till you see what JT did.” He saw her delight as she studied JT’s wall.
“Look how she managed the bubble tree. She’s right, it’s so much harder than an apple tree. It’s beautiful.” She seemed deep in thought, then asked, “When did you let JT in?”
“This morning. She called about nine and said since there was no school, she wanted to get the mural done.”
“She lied.”
“What?”
“There was school today,” Laura explained. “I called in last night and my sub took over for me.”
“She lied,” he repeated. It hadn’t occurred to him that JT would do it to his face. He felt stupid. He knew enough people in the school district now that he should have called and checked out her story.
He was still processing the information as Laura put the sleeping baby down in the crib and covered him. “Welcome home, Jamie.”
Seth was mesmerized by the sight. There were no thoughts of his past, of his what-might-have-beens. His world had narrowed to Laura gazing at the baby. He couldn’t tear himself away.
Laura grabbed the baby monitor and led him from the room.
“So what are we going to do about JT?” Seth asked, returning to full-on cop mode, which was a far more comfortable feeling than whatever it was he’d felt watching Laura with Jamie.
“Well, skipping school will definitely mean more detention,” she said as she walked into the living room. “I’ll talk to the principal next week. I know it’s out of the ordinary, but I’m hoping that he’ll let her do her detention here at home with me, at least for a few weeks, until I’m comfortable taking Jamie out. Then I can meet her at school after classes.”
“So you’re still going to work with her?”
She nodded, then sank back into the couch, curling up on herself. “I’m going to try.”
She looked tired. Which was no wonder. She gave birth a day ago. Seth got up, pulled an afghan from the back of the couch and covered her up.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re sure you can manage JT and the baby?”
“I might not know much about this motherhood thing yet, but I suspect that as much as I love Jamie, I’m going to need more than his company to keep me busy.” She yawned.
“Speaking of company. I know the guys from Jay’s group plan to stop in. Thought I’d give you the heads-up.”
“They won’t give up, those guys.”
“Jay was well liked. I didn’t know him really, but everyone on his group speaks highly of him.” She didn’t say anything, but he could see the tears welling up in her eyes and wanted to change topics.
“Can I do anything else?” he asked.
“No, Jamie and I are fine. Sometimes I get so wrapped up in missing Jay that I forget that other people are missing him, too. I’ll remember when they come over next time. And you’ve done more than I had a right to expect. I want to thank you for taking me to the hospital and staying. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. I thought I could do it on my own, but…” She blinked her eyes hard, as if to fight back tears.
Seth thought most of the time he pulled off the tough-guy routine, but the sight of a woman’s tears could destroy the facade in an instant—especially if it was Laura crying.
“Laura, I have no doubts that you could have managed on your own if you’d had to.” He resisted the urge to brush away the one tear that had escaped to run down her cheek.
“Thank you. Sometimes I don’t feel like I could.”
“Well, if you forget, I’ll remind you. Are you certain that I can’t do anything else before I go?”
“I’d really love to take a shower in my own bathroom, but I don’t want Jamie to wake up here alone. Could you wait a few minutes and listen for him? I know I’ll eventually have to risk him crying while I shower, but not today.”
“No, not today. I’ll stay until you’re settled.” He had his uniform in the car, so he didn’t need to go home before he started his shift.
Laura got up gingerly from the couch, walked over to his chair and kissed his cheek. “Great. I won’t be long.”
He heard doors opening and closing, and finally he could hear the sound of water coming from the bathroom. He ran a finger over the spot she’d kissed. Before he could dwell on why he wished the very platonic kiss was more than that, he heard the baby stirring on the monitor.
Seth hurried down the hall and leaned over the crib. Jamie stared at him. He picked the baby up and went to sit in the rocking chair.
He murmured a rhyme near Jamie’s ear, until the sound of clapping pulled him from the song. Laura was standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, with her damp hair twisted into a messy bun. “That was lovely.”
He felt self-conscious. “I don’t normally sing for audiences, well, other than babies.”
“Hmm, maybe you should start?”
He didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply skirted the compliment.
“Having so many siblings must be why you look like an old pro rocking Jamie, while I still worry about dropping him or goofing up.”
“You’re a natural. You’ll feel like a pro in a couple days. But you can always call me if you need anything. Night or day. I’m on second shift the rest of the month and don’t get off until ten or eleven. When you account for wind-down time, I’m up late.”
He stood carefully and handed Jamie to her. She didn’t look nervous or like a novice at all. She looked like a mom as she took her son and sank into the rocking chair.
“Speaking of work, I’d better go.”
Jamie squawked and Seth laughed. “I think he’s hungry, and while I can help with many things, I can’t help with that.” He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek without thinking. The fact that he’d done it surprised him, and despite the fact Laura had done as much earlier, she looked as startled as he was. He hurried toward the door. “I’ll leave the spare key on the hall table.”
“Maybe you should hang on to it? I don’t have a spare key with anyone else, and if I have the new mom brain-dead moments and lock myself out, it would be nice to have someone who could come let me back in.”
Seth nodded. “Sure. I’ll hold on to it for now. Night, Laura.”
“Night, Seth.”
SETH PATROLLED THE STREETS of Erie.
It was after eleven, and Seth should have long since gone home, but third shift was running short on staff, so he agreed to work some overtime. Third shift could be a busy one, but the late November night was crisp and cold. So much so that even the worst of the nighttime elements preferred staying inside.
He drove by Laura’s house and wondered, not for the first time, why they’d kissed. Granted, they weren’t exactly steamy kisses. They were about as platonic as kisses could get. But despite the fact they barely qualified as k
isses, he kept coming back to them. Worse, he kept wishing there were more.
Seth hadn’t been with any woman since Allie. And if he were going to jump back into that particular pool, he couldn’t pick a worse person to dive in with than Laura, who was a brand new mother, as well as in mourning.
Thinking about Laura was too confusing, so he turned his thoughts to JT. He’d have to leave a little early for work on Monday and go to the school to check on her. Ever since assuming his new responsibilities as school liaison, he’d come to believe that if everyone took an interest in just one kid who wasn’t theirs, the world would be a better place.
His radio squawked. “Erie to Lima Eight.”
“Lima Eight,” he answered.
“Go to Kennedy School’s playground and assist units on scene.”
“Lima Eight, copy. En route.” And that’s what he got for even thinking it might be a quiet evening.
A few minutes later he pulled up to the school’s playground. O’Donaldson and Hawley had two boys in the back of their cruiser. “We caught them spray-painting the school,” O’Donaldson said. “We need to take them in. These other four,” he nodded at two girls and a boy standing next to the car. “We found them sitting on the swings, talking. Unfortunately, it’s way after curfew.” Erie had instituted a 10:00 p.m. school night curfew a few years ago, and in Seth’s opinion it was a great policy.
“They need to go home,” Hawley said.
Seth nodded. “I’ll get them all home while you deal with our graffiti artists.”
“Thanks, Seth.”
“No problem.” He walked up to the four. “The officers explained you all broke curfew?”
The boy took a half step forward and replied, “Yes, sir.”
Seth looked beyond the boy to the group of girls. “JT?”
“Hey, Lieutenant.” Rather than looking embarrassed or at least apologetic, she gave him a cocky look that set his teeth on edge. She was back in her goth apparel. Black on black, with her piercings in and her makeup heavy. She hadn’t dressed this severely in a while and he’d forgotten the look.
