by Rula Sinara
Anna shook her head in spite of the rhetorical question.
“‘You’re more important to me than all the genetic material on earth,’” Mrs. Harper quoted.
Anna broke into laughter, the kind that released with an unraveling of nerves, and Mrs. Harper joined her. Pippa looked at them and clapped, thinking all the commotion was for her successful turn at the slide. Anna waved.
Mrs. Harper was right. Jack had always been such a bookworm. Even as a kid, he loved reading. Books had always been a big deal to him, especially science books. In fact, he’d always had a book with him whenever they hung out.
“That’s so like him.” Anna laughed. “I guarantee, he won’t live that down.”
“Don’t tell him I told you.”
“Fine. I won’t. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep a straight face when he gets back,” Anna said. They both laughed, and this time Pippa ran up and barreled into Anna’s knees.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Nothing, sweetie,” Anna said. “Go back and slide some more. I’m watching.” Pippa ran off to perform.
“I guess I’m trying to say that not everyone shows love the same way,” Mrs. Harper said, then softened her voice. “And I don’t want to see Jack hurt. Not again.”
Anna was saved from commenting. Maddie opened the screen door and helped her little brother crawl backward down the steps into the yard. It would be interesting to see how well Pippa did at taking turns now that she didn’t have the play set to herself.
Zoe followed them out and plopped down next to Anna. “He is so-o-o excited,” she gushed. “He can’t wait to hear if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“It won’t be long,” her mom said. “I’ll come with you to the appointment if you want.”
“Of course I want you to, but I just wish he was going to be here for the ultrasound,” Zoe said. She cradled her cheeks in her hands, with her elbows on her thighs.
“But at least he’ll be here full-time before the baby turns one,” Mrs. Harper pointed out. Well, that was good news Anna hadn’t known. All three women looked at the kids.
It was the first time Zoe had sounded sad. Anna thought about her pregnancy in Kenya. Until she’d met Niara, she had no one to share it with. Still, when it came to hearing heartbeats and seeing ultrasounds—and hearing Pippa’s first cry—she’d been alone. And scared to death.
Zoe was married and surrounded by family, yet the one person she wanted to share those moments with was on the other side of the world. Anna hadn’t expected to feel so connected to Zoe. Their lives were so different, yet their pregnancy experiences were parallel. Zoe didn’t have a choice. Anna had, but still, she wished Jack had been there. She wished he’d shared those moments with her. She wished she’d known at the time how much he would have sincerely cared about his baby girl. She didn’t doubt that now, but she also didn’t doubt that there would have been issues with her working in Kenya and him working here. Same issues as the present.
Chad tripped and fell into the grass.
“I’ll get him,” Mrs. Harper said, waving at Zoe to stay where she was.
“Thanks, Mom.” Zoe leaned back. “I don’t know how you do it,” Zoe said, once Nina was out of earshot.
“Me?” Anna asked. Zoe was the Wonder Woman.
“Yes, you. Getting through pregnancy and delivery, then raising a baby, all in the wilds of Africa. I don’t know what I’d do without the convenience of magic diaper bins or a dishwasher, or anything, for that matter.”
“I had a dedicated, giant pot for boiling cloth diapers, and no, it wasn’t a fun task, but it beats elephant funk.”
Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Like I said, I’m in awe.”
“You’re the one who’s the perfect mom. You handle everything so well...on your own, too.”
“Well, that’s something I know you can empathize with,” Zoe said. “Even with family or friends around, it’s not the same. They’re not there at two in the morning and again at four. And heaven forbid one of the other kids wakes up in between or gets sick. I’m convinced I keep the coffee industry alive.”
“That makes two of us,” Anna said.
“I’m so tired, though. So tired. And here I am complaining when you...you’re like Jane Goodall or Dian Fossey.”
“Only I work with pachyderms, not primates.” Anna grinned and Zoe chuckled.
“Point taken, but still.”
“Trust me, Zoe. Life here is more complicated in a lot of ways. You’re doing an amazing job.”
They watched the kids chasing their grandmother while she pretended she couldn’t outrun them.
“I can’t do this,” Jack’s sister suddenly blubbered. She dropped her face into her lap.
“Oh, Zoe. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
She shook her head. “No, it isn’t you.” Zoe’s voice came out muffled.
Anna put her hand on her back. She wasn’t sure what to say. The last thing she expected was for Zoe to admit she couldn’t handle things. She seemed to have a routine down and then some. Maybe this required a mother–daughter moment. Anna glanced at Mrs. Harper, who was oblivious to what was going on, and then back to Zoe. “Are you okay?”
Zoe looked up and wiped her face on the hem of her shirt. “I’ll be okay. Let’s blame it on hormones. That and seeing Ben. Hearing his voice. It gets me every time.”
Anna put her arm around Zoe and gave her a squeeze. She remembered the hormones, all right. She remembered hearing Jack’s voice in her head, seeing his face when her eyes closed...and feeling uncertain about everything. She also remembered that sometimes words weren’t as necessary as the simple reassurance that someone understood. That someone appreciated what you were going through.
And boy, did she remember the call she’d made to her mom, ready to tell her, needing her to be a mom. Instead, Anna had ended up listening to her mother cry, and consoling her worries that something would happen to Anna in Africa, that she’d lose her only other child, and only family since the divorce. The panicked sobs Anna had listened to from her hotel room in Nairobi, right before her first ultrasound appointment, had confirmed that she couldn’t tell her. She’d made her mom promise to keep seeing her psychologist.
Anna had been on her own, overwhelmed with what-ifs. What if something happened to her baby? What if she, like her mom, ended up with postpartum depression, or the chronic depression that ensued after the loss of her child? A depression that tore up everyone around her. Anna understood the fears of pregnancy and motherhood as well as what it was like to cope with a parent struggling with anxiety and depression. And Anna had caused enough pain and loss. She so wished she’d been able to have her mom around.
Anna and Zoe sat in silence and watched everyone play. This felt right. It felt like a normal family. Down to earth. Together for one another. Safe. Anna missed that.
But here, she felt like a bird-watcher with foggy lenses. She missed Busara.
* * *
ANNA PUT HER HAND against Pippa’s head. Burning hot. But just how hot, she didn’t know. Jack didn’t have a thermometer. Not even the old-fashioned in-the-rump kind. She’d hated going through his bathroom cabinet, but there were priorities at hand. All she found out was that there wasn’t any child medicine in there, either.
She brushed her hand across Pippa’s cheek. She was fast asleep. Finally. After being rocked for half an hour with a cool washcloth on her brow.
Anna slipped off the edge of the bed and sneaked out of the room. She still needed to get Pippa something for the congestion and fever. The poor thing was miserable.
Jack had gone into work to check on things, and hadn’t answered his cell. She’d tried calling it six times, and didn’t have the lab’s number. The kitchen. Anna hurried to the kitchen and started with the cabinet closest to the f
ridge. No luck in any of them. He didn’t keep any medication in the house? In the third drawer from the fridge, she found a box of Band-Aids and a tube of Neosporin, but that was it. She gave up and walked into the living room. This not-answering-his-phone business was seriously annoying. Cells were for emergencies. Who didn’t answer their cell?
Anna picked up the house phone and tried to call him again. Still no answer. She was done trying. Zoe. Zoe would have sick-kid supplies, or maybe she’d give Anna a ride to the drugstore. She was about to scroll through Jack’s contacts for Zoe’s number when he walked in.
Anna shoved the phone back in its charger. “Why don’t you ever answer your phone?”
Jack stopped midstep, the door still ajar. He gave her a what-got-in-your-socks look.
“I was driving and I hate those earpieces.”
“You’ve been driving for the past four hours?”
“Uh, no. But I had my hands full...at the lab.” Jack rubbed his jaw, then scratched his ear. “I forgot to check before leaving the parking lot. I was just checking it on my way up the steps and saw your missed calls, but I’m here now, so what’s wrong?”
“Pippa has a really bad cold and fever.”
Jack dropped his keys on the counter and went to Pippa’s room. He touched her face with both hands and swore.
“She’s pretty warm. We should take her to the emergency room,” he said.
“I’m sure it’s a cold. I’m not taking her to the E.R. for a cold.”
“What if it’s not a cold? She could be coming down with something she caught in Kenya. What if it’s malaria, or something worse?”
“She’s been in Kenya all her life, then gets on a crowded plane with recirculated air, spends time with her cousins—who are probably walking petri dishes inoculated with viruses from school—and has had her hands on just about every visible surface in a toy store and animal park, and you think she has some exotic African disease?”
“If you’re so sure it’s a cold, why are you on edge? You’re biting my head off, Anna.”
Anna put her hands on her temples and sighed.
“I’m sorry.” She slumped down next to Pippa and laid a hand on her tiny shoulder. “I called Mom earlier. I wanted to take Pippa to see her. I needed to see her, but she seemed, I don’t know, reluctant? It was odd, like she didn’t want us dropping by so soon. I thought she’d be happy, but I guess with Pippa sick, it’s a moot issue.
“Chad had a runny nose when we were over there. She’s not used to being around so many different people, remember? The weather changes. The sleep pattern changes. You know the signs. You can’t panic the first time you see your child sick. Trust me on that. It doesn’t help.” Anna put her hand against Pippa’s forehead for the umpteenth time. The fact was, her heart gave out every time Pippa got sick.
Jack nodded. “I still think we should take her to see a doctor.”
“I’ll tell you what. Just go to the drugstore for me. All I need is a thermometer and some child-strength fever medicine. And get her some nasal saline, too. If her fever gets worse or she’s not doing better by tomorrow, we’ll take her to a doctor or an urgent-care clinic.”
All she needed was for Jack to walk into an E.R. spouting words like Africa, malaria or whatever came to mind. They’d end up spending the rest of their short visit in quarantine, with Pippa being tested for every disease possible when she had no signs of anything but a cold.
Jack stiffened and held up a hand.
“Um...I’ve never bought kid medicine. I wouldn’t know which brand—”
“Jack, you work in a lab. You can handle a drugstore. Just ask the pharmacist for help.”
“Or you can come and get whatever works for her.” He gave his collar a tug. He was nervous? Because of medications...drugs. Anna recalled his reaction at the hospital.
“Okay,” Anna said. “I guess we’ll go together and take her along. You can wait in the car with her while I run in to get what we need.”
A relieved Jack followed her to the bedroom. He scooped Pippa up gently and pulled a small pink throw off the bed to cover her with. Anna grabbed his keys from near the door and locked it behind them, then opened the car so he could set her in the car seat.
Pippa woke up while Anna was buckling her in, and started fussing and crying. It was going to be a long day and night. Anna thought of what Zoe had said about not having anyone to help at two in the morning, and suddenly felt grateful that Jack was here, even if he was jumping to paranoid diagnoses. At least she wasn’t alone.
* * *
IT WAS LATE, but Anna couldn’t fall asleep. She took Jack’s cordless house phone and slipped out onto his balcony. He was out cold on the sofa, with Pippa draped across his chest. Bless his heart, he really was a great father. Anna would miss him more than he’d ever know.
How she wished he could let go and love her, but he didn’t, not that way. After the way her dad closed himself off to her and her mom, Anna couldn’t settle for anything less than soul-penetrating love. Love that would last through sickness and health. Especially the sickness part.
Pippa was snoring. Poor thing was so congested, the beat of Jack’s heart and the warmth of his chest were the only things that made her feel better, and had eventually lulled her to sleep. He was a living hot water bottle. A comfort Anna wasn’t getting.
She slid the glass door slowly shut, so as not to wake them, and dialed the numbers she’d jotted down on the back of a toy store receipt. Her mom had moved since the divorce and Anna didn’t have the new number memorized.
“Hello?” Her mother’s voice dragged.
“Sorry, Mom. Did I wake you?”
“Almost, but not quite. I’m in bed reading. I think I started dozing off.”
“I can call tomorrow,” she said, but she really wanted to talk now.
“Anna, what’s up? Is Pippa okay?”
“She’s fine,” Anna lied. A white lie worth its weight, because she didn’t want her mom worrying and getting in a car half asleep and in the dark. “I just wanted to talk. We missed seeing you today and we’re not here that long, so I thought maybe we could plan something.”
There was a momentary pause where all Anna heard was the hum of cars along the street in front of the complex and the sound of a book slapping shut.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I want to see both of you as much as possible. I, um, the place was a mess and I hadn’t showered and all. I knew Jack would be bringing you. I didn’t need him seeing me like that.”
A car horn honked in the distance and Anna watched the headlights of someone coming home late turning into a parking spot across from Jack’s. Anna shivered in the night air. She’d been concerned for nothing. Her mom simply wanted time to clean up. After all, she had been a neat-freak before she started having episodes. Caring was a good sign.
“That’s okay. Mom?”
“Yes, Anna.”
“Do you still have my old things? My books and the animal figurines I had on the shelf over my bed?”
“Actually, I do.” Her mother sounded relieved at the change of topic. “I boxed them carefully and put them in storage when I moved.”
“I’d like Pippa to have them. I thought I’d pick them up and leave them here at Jack’s, since they’d probably get ruined at Busara.”
“Anna, why Jack’s place? Why not leave them here at mine? She could stay with me when she visits. Jack would be at work most of the time, anyway.”
Anna tapped the phone against her chest and took in a cool breath of night air. She couldn’t leave Pippa alone at Sue’s. What if her mom had a bad day? Pippa was too young to handle that. Anna had been older and it had been tough enough. And what if there were prescription drugs lying around?
“Mom, she has a bedroom here. You’d see her all the time, and I’m su
re Jack will need both you and his parents to help out when she’s here. But he’s her father.”
“Okay. That makes sense, I suppose, but Anna, be careful. Don’t let him take her from you.”
“We’re just talking visits, Mom. We haven’t gone beyond that.”
“You know I love you and only want you to be happy. I’m simply saying don’t let him get more than visits. And for God’s sake, Anna, learn from my life. Don’t set yourself up for disappointment. Don’t marry him. If you can do anything to put my mind at rest, promise me that.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
PIPPA WAS DOING much better.
Her fever had broken the following morning and the saline washes were helping tremendously with her stuffy nose. After a day of chicken noodle soup and cartoons, she had slept soundly all night. Anna had given her a morning bath, steaming up the bathroom beforehand with her own shower. That had helped, as well. As did driving around. Pippa loved the feel of gliding on smooth, paved roads. Not a pothole in sight.
Jack had dropped Anna off on campus for her meeting. He said he had errands to run, but assured her that he could handle taking Pippa with him. Anna was positive he and Pippa were having a lot more fun riding around and doing chores than she was having facing Dr. Miller right now.
Miller laced his fingers together and settled them across his paunch. Anna gripped the arms of her chair and tilted her head, as if changing her angle would change what she was hearing.
“It is what it is, Anna,” he said. Unbelievable. She narrowed her eyes at him, fury drying her mouth.
“How can you sit there and say that?”
“Watch it, Anna. You’re sounding ungrateful. I may no longer be able to support your research, but I’ve given you years of backing. Don’t forget who advised you freshman year. Who helped you with your senior project. Who helped establish your career and reputation.”
He wanted to play politics, did he? Family, work—she couldn’t escape it. Anna hated politics. She let go of the chair and clasped her hands in her lap.
