With horror and shock clanging inside of him like air-raid sirens, Henry reached out and grasped her wrist, clamping down. Eve gave a startled gasp of surprise, her eyes whipping to his face, but his grip was like iron as he pulled her hand, which still clung to the pillow, raising it up and away from the baby’s face.
Noah blinked up at him. Without looking at Eve, Henry gave him a small smile in return. He reached down with both hands and gently took the child from Eve’s arms.
“Henry . . . ,” Eve began, but he didn’t dare look at her. His heart was racing, and anger was pumping through his muscles and his veins. It took everything he had inside of him not to reach down and shake her, scream at her, take her by the arm and toss her out the front door.
“Don’t,” he said sharply. He saw her flinch backward at the tone in his voice, but he found he didn’t care.
With the baby in his arms, Henry walked back into the bedroom. He laid the child on the bed, then stretched out next to him.
Henry didn’t know where Eve spent the rest of the night. He didn’t get up again to look. Instead, he stayed by Noah’s side, protected in Henry’s circle of warmth and care. The baby eventually gave a great yawn, and his eyes fell shut. He slept.
But Henry didn’t. He lay awake throughout the night, his eyes on the sleeping child. Eventually the sun rose and brightened the room, but inside Henry’s mind, it was still very, very dark.
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
Henry sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter at the kitchen sink, staring out the window. Unwittingly, he was mirroring the way his mother had started most of her days.
He could have used her guidance just then. Or simply her presence. But she was gone. Henry alone would have to untangle the mess they’d made.
Eve was ill. She was sick. Too sick for him to mend. He was going to have to accept that.
The possibilities rattled around, bumping into one another and flying in opposite directions. He could throw her out. He knew he probably should. Most people would.
And yet . . . Eve would never get the help she needed on her own. He didn’t even know if she’d survive.
As Henry had inspected the broken pieces of what their life had become over the course of the long night, he’d had to face the horrifying fact that he still loved her. In spite of everything, this hadn’t changed. He’d promised her he would be there, by her side, no matter what. She’d told him she was no good for him, and he was forced to admit she was right. But he’d known that. She was still part of him. He couldn’t abandon her.
No more than he could put Noah in danger. And Eve was a very real danger. It was his responsibility to see the child was safe.
A hospital? The police? Both possibilities would be abandonment, albeit under a different name.
By the time Noah had woken, fussy and crying for his early-morning bottle, Henry had made some decisions. He could only hope they were the right ones.
After feeding and changing the baby, he’d gathered some of his things and taken the child to Alice’s house. Noah would be safe there, until things were settled.
He’d seen no sign of Eve when he’d pulled the truck back into the drive, and again, he didn’t seek her out. There would be plenty of time for them to deal with one another after he got some sleep.
Henry had lain on the couch, his mind turning over the course of action he’d decided on, but eventually exhaustion had won out.
He’d woken in the early afternoon, alone.
After a shower, he’d made a pot of coffee. But now the time had come. He’d put it off long enough.
With a clink, Henry set the empty cup in the sink and went to find the woman he still loved.
Eve was in the shed. He was almost surprised to see her there at Mama’s old loom. If he’d found her there the day before, he would have been pleased, seen it as a sign that she was healing.
Today, he knew different.
“Noah is with Alice,” Henry said without preamble. “He’s not safe here, with you.”
Eve turned toward him, her hand laid gently across the shuttle of the loom. She said nothing, but he correctly took her silence as assent.
“He can’t stay here. Not with you in this state.” Henry watched her face, searching, longing to see some sign that he was wrong.
She gave him not a single one.
“Why, Eve?” Henry said in a ragged voice. “Why would you do such a hateful, terrible thing? Is it so hard to love him?”
Her face clouded and she looked away from him, her eyes on the ground. Her hands tightened and loosened around the shuttle.
“I tried,” she whispered. “I did. But I can’t bear to look at him. To hear him cry. He comes from before, and he’s stained this life with you. Every sound he makes takes me back there. I look at him and I see the men who hurt me. Over and over again. I look at him and I feel nothing inside. He reminds me . . . He reminds me of who I am.”
Henry walked toward her and dropped to his knees. He turned her chin gently to face him. He desperately wanted to fix this, fix her, but he knew better than anyone. Sometimes broken can’t be fixed.
“He’ll never be safe with you, will he?”
There were tears in Eve’s eyes when she shook her head quickly back and forth.
“No,” she said with a sob.
His heart was already broken, but with her answer, he felt it shatter a little more.
He had only one more thing to try. A Hail Mary pass.
“He can’t stay with Alice,” Henry said. “Not forever. I’ve spoken with her. It would be too hard for her, after losing Del.”
With a final squeeze of her hands, Henry stood, then ran his hands through his hair. “But Ms. Watson will take him. She’ll take him and raise him like her own.”
Henry waited to see what kind of effect his words might have on Eve. Her shoulders slumped a bit more, but other than that, she gave no indication that she couldn’t hand her child over to be raised by another woman.
“Come with me,” Henry said. “We’ll pack his things. Collect him from Alice. You should be there.”
Eve nodded, and what little hope Henry had left faded into a flicker, the smallest candle flame. All it would take was the lightest puff, and it would die, vanishing into darkness.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
When they arrived at Alice’s house, Eve stayed in the truck while Henry collected Noah.
“Thank you,” he said to his sister-in-law.
“Of course,” she said, without hesitation, but the worry was clear in her expression.
Opening the driver’s side door, Henry gently placed the baby carrier on the bench seat between him and Eve. There was a blanket thrown over the top of it, rising over the handle.
“He’s sleeping,” Henry said quietly, but the admonishment wasn’t needed. Eve made no move toward the baby, only gripped her arms tightly around herself and stared out of the passenger-side window.
The ride across town to the marsh went by in a series of images, flashing by the windows like a silent movie. No one spoke, and the baby never made a sound. But both of them were acutely aware of him there, between them. No matter what happened next, he would always be there, always between them.
The day was beginning to fade as Henry pulled the truck over next to the bell hanging in the tree. He opened the door to step out and ring the bell but stopped and took the baby carrier by the handle, bringing Noah with him. He didn’t meet Eve’s eyes, but he wasn’t willing to leave the child alone with her, even for a moment.
He gave the rope attached to the bell a pull, once, twice, three times. Jonah would come and collect them.
Eve stood on the other side of the truck, waiting, while Henry lifted the edge of the blanket, checking that the child still slept. He glanced at Eve, but again, her face was turned away. With a sigh, he leaned against the front of his truck and waited for the boat to arrive.
Jonah was cheery, happy to see them, as always, seemingly unaffected by the s
omber mood that surrounded them.
“Jonah, there’s a load of stuff in the back of the truck,” Henry said to him. “Could you do me a favor and unload it for me while I take Eve and Noah over? I’ll be back in just a bit and help you load it into the boat. We can take it over together.”
“Sure thing, Henry,” Jonah said and set himself to the task.
Henry assumed that Ms. Watson hadn’t told him of the plans that had been made, not yet. He was glad of that.
After they made it across the marsh, Henry led the way into the house, where Ms. Watson waited.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Henry said. “I know it’s a lot to take on.”
She waved his thanks away, but her face was serious when she spoke. “Nonsense. A baby is a gift,” she said, peering at Eve’s face. “A precious, precious gift.”
Eve didn’t look up from the floor. Henry was overcome with the urge to shake her. To yell. Look, he thought. Look at what you’re doing! He’s your son, how can you just leave him here? How can you do that?
But whatever reaction Henry was hoping to see, it wasn’t there.
Helen Sue Watson wasn’t about to give up that easily. She stepped in front of Eve, forcing her to look up.
“Look at me, girl,” she said. “I want to see your eyes when I say this.”
Eve slowly lifted her head, doing as she’d been told.
Ms. Watson reached out a hand, and for just a moment, Henry thought she meant to slap the younger woman across the face.
Instead, she laid the gnarled old hand gently on Eve’s cheek.
“I will raise your child while you can’t. I will do that, and I’ll do it gladly. But you should know, child, when you leave here tonight, that this doesn’t have to be forever. My door will always be open to you and to Henry.”
Eve looked away, but Ms. Watson moved her head and put her face in front of Eve’s, forcing her to look at her.
“And when you’re well enough, when you’ve got a handle on things again, remember that we’re not that far away. This child will be here, waiting for you to come back and take him by the hand.”
Henry had known this unbreakable woman his entire life. He thought he’d seen every facet of her imaginable, but he’d been wrong. Because he’d never seen such tenderness. It was a thing they didn’t deserve, neither he nor Eve. But there it was, all the same. It was mercy. And it was forgiveness.
It brought Eve to tears.
She choked out a sob, lifting her hand to her mouth. Henry watched her struggle to hold it back, but it was like trying to catch the ocean in a sieve.
Eve collapsed onto her knees, crying into her arms.
Ms. Watson placed her hand on the back of Eve’s bent head and met Henry’s eyes.
This was the breakthrough he’d been hoping for, and that dim flame of hope brightened, just a little.
He dropped to his knees next to Eve and placed a hand over hers. He ran his other down her cheek, wiping at her tears.
“Eve,” he said. “Eve, we don’t have to do this. We don’t have to leave him here. He’s your son. He’s my son, if you’ll let him be. Eve, look at me.”
She raised her tearstained face to his, and he rejoiced at the pain he saw there. Pain was real. Pain was life. Pain was love.
“It won’t be easy. You’ll have bad days, but I’ll be there. You won’t be alone. We’ll get you help, we’ll get you well, and we’ll raise our son. Together.”
Henry pulled her close and held her in his arms while she cried.
“Do you want to go home? All of us, Eve?”
Once more, Henry held his breath. Lives teetered in the balance, and the moment stretched into infinity.
Finally, finally, he felt Eve nod.
“Yes?” he asked, pulling back so that he could look at her face. “Was that a yes?”
She nodded again. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Yes, then.” He smiled, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “Let’s go home. All of us.”
He turned his face up to Ms. Watson, who was smiling down at them through her own tears.
It worked, he thought in amazement. He’d closed his eyes and thrown the Hail Mary with the final seconds ticking off the clock, and against all the odds, Eve had caught the ball in the end zone.
He laughed, hugging her tightly to him.
They were going to be okay.
Everything was going to be okay.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Henry had embraced Ms. Watson, thanking her again before they left.
There wasn’t a peep from the baby carrier as Henry carried it back down to the boat, no sign that Noah’s fate had hung so tenuously by such a frayed thread.
He held Eve’s hand, smiling down at her as he helped her into the pirogue, the carrier settled on the bottom of the boat between them.
Jonah had unloaded the baby’s things from the back of Henry’s truck unnecessarily, he thought, as he pushed the boat through the dark water that teemed with life. He heard a soft splash somewhere behind them. An alligator, dropping down into the water, looking for a meal.
Things would be better, Henry told himself. He’d get her help. He wouldn’t leave her alone with Noah, not until he was certain her soul was on the mend. But she’d taken the first step tonight, and Henry was filled with a new sort of hope. Eve’s unwillingness to leave her child had been the gust of air that his candle needed, and it lit up the darkness around them.
The boat was pulling close to the other shore, and he could see Jonah waiting patiently for them.
“Jonah, I have some bad news, fella,” Henry said with a laugh as the other man held out a hand and helped him maneuver the pirogue onto the shore. “All that stuff’s going to need to go back in the truck, my friend. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Ah, course not, Henry, if that’s what you want. You have a nice visit?” Jonah asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, you might say we did, Jonah.” Henry looked back over his shoulder at Eve. He couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face, and he knew he was acting like a fool.
Eve didn’t notice, though. She was looking back over her shoulder, staring into the deadly beauty of the swamp in the darkness.
“You leaving Noah at our place for a sleepover, then? That’ll be a treat. Me and Aunt Helen, we sure do love that little guy,” Jonah said.
Henry turned back to Jonah and tilted his head a bit to the side. Ms. Watson must have said something to him after all. Henry hoped Jonah wouldn’t be disappointed.
“Jonah, I’m sorry, man. There’s been a change of plans. Noah’s not staying. He’s coming home with us. Isn’t he, Eve?”
As Henry turned his head to smile at Eve again, he barely noticed the confusion on Jonah’s face.
Eve was still looking away, back at the swamp in the direction they’d come.
It was then, only then, that Henry recognized that something was very, very wrong.
Eve didn’t look like a woman who’d just discovered a connection to her young child, in spite of everything. She looked like a woman haunted.
The baby carrier was gone.
Henry stared at the place it had been, the place where he’d set it himself, safe and secure to make the trip back across the marsh. He’d put it right there. Right there between them.
It was gone.
His head whipped around, his eyes searching the ground on the shore next to Jonah. He must have handed it over without thinking about it.
But there was nothing. Only his friend. Jonah was speaking again, but Henry couldn’t make out the words. A rushing sound was filling his ears. If he’d had time to examine it, he would have said it was the sound of the world catching fire. His world. Theirs.
“Where’s Noah?” Henry asked frantically. He rushed at Eve and grabbed her by the shoulders. The movement pulled the little boat away from the tenuous hold it had on the shore, and they began floating through the water, drifting. He was yelling, screaming in her face. He didn’t know what w
ords he was saying, he’d never know. They were like blackbirds released from a cage, fluttering and pecking at both of their faces.
It didn’t matter. Eve only stared off into the darkness, not even acknowledging Henry as he shook her by the shoulders.
“Where is he? Damn it, Eve! Where’s Noah?!”
Henry turned to search the darkness, looking for any sign.
His eyes followed Eve’s. And there it was, floating on top of the water yards behind them. He could barely make it out. Then, like an optical illusion that finally comes into focus, he realized what he was looking at.
There, with just enough moonlight to illuminate its whiteness, was the blanket that had been laid over the top of Noah’s baby carrier. Just the blanket. The rest was gone.
The splash, Henry thought dazedly. The splash. That was no alligator. That was Noah’s carrier going into the water. Eve had picked up the carrier that held her son, and without saying a word, she’d dropped it into the water behind the boat.
But that was so long ago, Henry thought. So, so long ago. Minutes, hours, a lifetime ago. And she’d stayed silent through the rest of the trip, letting him move the boat farther and farther away from where she’d dropped him into the water. She’d never made a sound.
“What have you done?!” Henry screamed into her face. “What have you done?!”
Slowly, she turned her face to his.
There were no tears now. She’d left those behind at the house on the swamp with Ms. Watson, the friend who’d tried to help them. Now, there was only Eve. Broken, broken Eve. The girl with no name.
She tilted her head and looked up at him.
“I left him behind,” she said, in a maddeningly calm voice. “He couldn’t come home, Henry. If he came home, he’d only grow up. Like a weed, he’d grow, and he’d breathe, and he’d take. Men only take.”
“Why?! Why couldn’t you just leave him there? She was willing to keep him, Eve! Why?!” he yelled.
She shook her head at him slowly, and her brows drew together at his confusion.
“It was too close,” she said. “Too close. He would always be between us. You love him now, and your love would only grow. But he’d always be a monster, don’t you see? He could never be anything else. He couldn’t deserve your love.”
The Unremembered Girl: A Novel Page 27
