by Donna Fasano
There simply wasn’t a more adorable, more precious child in all of the whole wide world. Sean might be exhausted from his day, but as he sat on the one chair in the cramped hotel room, his heart pounded furiously in his chest, emotion lodged firmly and thickly in his throat.
This was real. This was happening. He was a father. He was Sona’s daddy.
His jaw clenched as he forced back the overwhelming disbelief threatening to engulf him. He needed to keep himself composed, relaxed. For Sona’s sake. Several times since they had left the Child Services office earlier today, she had been on the verge of crying. Her tiny chin would quiver, her eyes had grown fearful and teary, yet in each instance he had been able to divert disaster by distracting her. Quickly. With whatever had been close at hand—a small chip of ice from his cup, a spoon from the dinner table, the new rattle he’d purchased for her. Boy, keeping Sona’s mind occupied with new and interesting things was hard work.
But even with the difficulties, he was unable to get over how happy he felt at this moment, how completely joyous he’d been since the moment Sona had been placed in his arms. This adoption felt so right to him. So very right.
His daughter sat on the roll-away bed he’d had brought in by the hotel housekeeping. There hadn’t been a crib available. Ah, well, he’d thought, they only had to make do for one night. They would be flying home to America—tomorrow.
Sona played with the new rattle, turning it this way and that, smiling tentatively whenever it made a noise. The inexpensive toy enthralled her, and Sean could easily see that she hadn’t had access to many playthings in the orphanage.
He’d taken her shopping for a few things: two bottles, a new dress, a little nightgown and, of course, some diapers. He’d also bought her some toys. Just a few small, colorful items. He didn’t want to have to carry a lot of stuff on the airplane. But his own favorite was the small, redheaded doll he’d bought… a doll that reminded him of Nicki.
Several times this afternoon the woman had breezed into Sean’s thoughts. His gratitude for what she had done for him was so immense; he didn’t think he’d ever be able to repay her. Well, he’d just have to see what he could do when she finally contacted him about her travel arrangements.
He gazed across the room, remembering how the morning sun had turned Nicki’s hair to copper fire, wondering what would compel a woman to give so much of herself to him—a total stranger? She’d gone to great lengths to help him. She’d actually married him. He wondered if—
A bubble of baby laughter broke into his thoughts, and his attention returned to his daughter. He smiled, content to simply watch Sona play with her rattle.
Late that afternoon, Sean and Sona had stopped in the hotel restaurant for some dinner. The menu didn’t cater to children at all, so he’d ended up special ordering several different kinds of soft-cooked vegetables and he’d mashed them with his fork. Sona had eaten like a voracious little horse. He’d focused so much of his attention on feeding his little girl, the chicken Kiev and kasha he’d ordered for himself had grown stone-cold before he’d taken a single bite. But that really didn’t matter, especially when he knew his new daughter’s belly was full. However, being satiated, Sona had quickly lost interest in the food, the utensils, and the napkin, and she had begun to squirm. So Sean had had to gobble his dinner and quickly find something else to hold her interest. He just chalked it up as being one more thing a new parent must do: eat cold, hasty meals.
Bath time had been an experience. As he had washed from Sona the sticky remains of dinner, she had splashed and squealed with glee. Sean’s shirt-front had ended up as wet as she by the time he’d gotten the soap rinsed off her.
All in all, it had been a long and hectic day. And although he was still experiencing the effects of the adrenaline high caused by his successful adoption, he had to admit he was glad it was time for bed. Because he was dog-tired.
The cot Sona sat on had seemed soft enough, but as soon as it had arrived Sean had realized that it was much too narrow for Sona to sleep on without the fear of her falling onto the floor in the night. So he’d done his best to barricade all three exposed edges of the mattress. He’d used the pillows off his bed, rolled up his blankets, too. And he’d found an extra pillow in the closet. He studied the soft enclosure he’d created for Sona and sighed. That should keep her safe.
The bare mattress he’d left for himself caught his attention and he couldn’t help but grin. Heck, he didn’t need a pillow. He could cradle his head on his arm. And he didn’t need blankets. The summer night was warm. He doubted that he’d sleep much tonight, anyway, he was so excited. A spontaneous and utterly delighted chuckle rumbled deep in his throat, and the sound had Sona gazing at him with her huge, dark eyes.
She didn’t seem half as frightened as she had earlier this afternoon. She handled being with strangers well, and Sean guessed that had come with her experiences since her parents had died. She probably never knew from day to day who would be caring for her. But he wouldn’t be a stranger for long. Each day would bring him and Sona closer. He could feel it in his heart.
Sona tossed the rattle aside and gazed up at him. Then she rubbed her eyes with her tiny fists. Lord, but she was just too cute. She was tired. Any fool could see that.
“It’s time to lie down, sweetheart.” Speaking softly and approaching her slowly, he picked up the rattle and set it out of reach. Then he eased Sona back until she was lying down in the safe little nest he’d created. Her bottom lip quivered. Her huge, brown eyes welled with the biggest, wettest crocodile tears he’d ever seen in his life.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” he crooned. “It’s time to go to sleep. You’re tired. We’ve had a long day. Daddy’s tired, too.”
As soon as he’d uttered his new title, a joyous chill coursed across his skin. He was this child’s daddy. He picked her up, cradled her head against his shoulder, but her tears continued. Sean slowly filled his lungs with the soft, baby scent of her.
“Shhh,” he said. “Hush, now. It’s okay.”
“Pisne,” she said, her crying making her hard to understand.
“What? You want your rattle?” He picked up the toy and gave it a little shake, but Sona only became more agitated.
She pushed away from him, her weeping developing into hiccupping sobs. Taken off guard by her struggles, Sean’s eyes widened and he dropped the rattle, pressing his hand against her back so she wouldn’t slip from his grasp.
“Whoa there,” he said. Due to his surprise, his tone was louder than he’d intended.
Sona howled. ‘‘Pisne,’’ she repeated over and over between her sobs.
He placed her on the cot, and that calmed her. But only a little. She seemed to be expectant, waiting.
Soon, her tears continued to flow. And Sean felt suddenly inept.
Her distress magnified. She obviously wanted something.
“You’re thirsty?” He ran to the bathroom where he’d placed a bottle filled with juice in the ice-packed bucket to keep it cold.
“Here, sweetie.” He offered her the bottle, only to have her slap it away.
Again, she repeated the word he didn’t understand.
Okay, she didn’t want her toys. She didn’t want a drink.
An idea came to him…maybe she was too warm. Immediately, he reached down and removed the fluffy pink knitted booties he’d bought her this afternoon.
Still, she cried.
He checked her diaper and found it dry.
Her sobs rang like loud, grating bells in his ears. Sean paused, rubbed the back of his neck, raked his fingers though his hair, his feeling of incompetence swelling with each passing moment.
It wasn’t as if he’d thought becoming a parent was going to be easy. He’d known the responsibilities of raising a child would be immense. Even before he’d left America, he’d spent hour upon hour planning what he could do for this little girl when they finally became a family.
He’d clothe her, see that she ate a well-ba
lanced diet. He’d care for her when she was sick. He’d laugh with her when she was happy. He’d teach her games. Catch lightning bugs on hot summer nights. He’d bake peanut butter cookies with her on cool autumn afternoons. They would stream Sesame Street and Blue’s Clues and Wonder Pets. Learn the names of colors, and to count, and recite the alphabet. He’d hold the seat of her bicycle, run alongside her, as she learned to ride. And when she got old enough, he’d send her to the best private schools. He’d see that she got piano lessons and dance lessons. And if she didn’t like playing or dancing, he’d sign her up for t-ball. He’d make certain she participated in any activity that interested her. He’d save money for her college fund.
These were only some of the plans he had made during the weeks preceding the adoption. But standing here, seeing his little girl sobbing with the want of… something. And him not knowing what it was she was asking for.
Sean thought his heart would rip clean in two. And then panic set in.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a dense shadow rolling over him, smothering him like a wet wool blanket. How could he have ever believed he could do this? How could he have thought he could even begin to tackle the enormous responsibility of this small child’s life? His heart raced, but this time it wasn’t caused by euphoria or joy or happiness—it was due to an overwhelming doubt in his ability to do right by this utterly vulnerable child.
When he raised his eyelids, his gaze fell on the redheaded doll he’d bought for Sona, the doll that had reminded him so much of…
Nicki. Her name whispered through his mind like a fresh, spring breeze.
Surely, she would be able to help him. She would know what it was Sona was asking for. She would be able to stop his little girl’s tears.
He snatched up his cell phone and made the call, but after three short beeps, the phone went silent. He tried twice more. Connectivity had been a problem every day that he’d been in this damned country.
Sona’s cries wrenched his gut and ratcheted up his frustration. He needed help.
He swallowed, remembering that he knew Nicki’s address. He’d picked her up earlier today in a taxi so they could be married.
Checking his watch, he decided it wasn’t too awfully late. She would probably be up. If she was at home.
Refusing to think anything else but that she’d be there for him, that she’d be willing to help him, he picked up Sona.
“Let’s go, honey,” he told her softly, knowing full well she couldn’t hear him over her crying. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Nicki sat at the table in the small kitchen of her tiny basement apartment. The cheese she nibbled on, along with the delicious and hearty seven-grain bread, was her dinner. She studied yet another online employment site, and every so often she’d absently reach up and fluff her damp hair.
Sharing a bathroom with the two other basement apartments wasn’t all that bad. But Nicki didn’t like to take too much time in the shower, so she only washed her hair every other day. Tonight was one of those evenings.
After swallowing the last bite of cheese, she wiped her hands on a cotton towel and then slowly, meticulously combed her fingers though her long, wavy tresses. She always let her hair air dry. The heat from a blow dryer only made the natural waves kink into frizzy curls.
A long sigh issued from her throat. All evening she’d busied herself with the most mundane tasks: straightening her already-tidy apartment, hand washing a few underclothes, taking a quick shower, eating her dinner, reading and re-reading the same job descriptions she’d found on the web.
Focusing on the ordinary, the routine, was keeping her mind tightly reined. Preventing her thoughts from wandering. To the craziness of the past couple of days. To her marriage to a man who was a complete stranger. Shaking her head, she realized that wasn’t the entire truth. It wasn’t thoughts of the marriage she was avoiding, but the stranger himself. The devastatingly handsome man with whom she had exchanged wedding vows.
Sean. Just thinking his name conjured in her mind a clear and vivid image of his chiseled, swarthy features.
She had known that, in marrying her, Sean Hudson had been using her. But then, she had offered herself to be used. She’d wanted to help him. No, she realized, she had wanted to help that little girl. The child with whom she had more in common than she cared to admit.
However, in working together with Sean to secure the adoption, Nicki couldn’t help but feel she’d formed a kind of bond with him. It wasn’t an idea that was totally ludicrous, was it? There were many reasons that people were drawn together. And she and Sean had found one. Little Sona.
Closing her eyes, Nicki effortlessly remembered Sean’s powerful, dark gaze when he had thanked her for her help. He’d reached out to her. Touched her cheek. And even now, she tilted her head in some vain effort to recapture the feel of his strong-yet-tender fingers on her jaw, sliding along her neck. But all she met was empty air.
Her eyelids flew open. A vague, almost shadowy fear churned in her belly. The emotion confused her, had her looking around the room, her gaze wide as she searched for something with which to busy her mind, some mundane task to occupy her thoughts, divert her attention.
She got up, took her plate and glass to the sink, washed them, dried them, and put them away on the shelf. But the strange foreboding remained in her stomach, making her feel as if she’d eaten, not a delicious dinner of bread and cheese, but a bowl of dry and tasteless clay that had lodged in the pit of her stomach in a hard lump.
This was absurd. She’d helped an orphan find a home. She’d helped a man adopt a child. She should realize the goodness in what she’d done and leave it at that.
But Sean had stirred in her some profound emotions—feelings she didn’t quite understand. The undercurrent of attraction was clear, she realized. But then any woman would have found the man appealing. However, it was the fearful feeling, the shadowy apprehension that she couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t like she was afraid of Sean. No. That wasn’t it at all. The feeling came from somewhere inside herself. Somewhere deep inside…
Nicki shook the thoughts away, rushing into the modest sitting room and snapping on the television. It was high time she put all this out of her head.
Sean Hudson had already moved on. She had better stop dwelling on the incident—on him—and do the same.
A knock at her door had Nicki automatically perking up. Rarely did she have visitors. It was probably Antonetta. The tea bags in her neighbor’s cupboard seldom lasted to the end of the month. But Nicki didn’t mind offering her friend a cup of tea. Especially tonight. This evening she would welcome the diversion.
The toddler’s wails could be heard even before Nicki opened the door. The sound made her frown in confusion, but the sight of Sean and Sona on her threshold made her lips part in utter surprise.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, as she tugged on his sleeve to get him inside. “What happened? Is she hurt?”
Sean’s eyes were wide with panic. He shook his head. “She’s not hurt. But she’s upset. She wants something. Kept saying it. Over and over. I couldn’t understand. She’s been crying. And asking. For something.”
“What?” Nicki asked above Sona tearful sobs. “What was she saying?”
Again his dark head shook. “Dunno. Peez-something.” His frustration mounted.
Nicki soothed her hand down the toddler’s leg. “Okay, baby doll, tell Nicki what you want.”
Sona screeched, hiding her face in Sean’s neck. “Lord, help me.” His whispered prayer was accompanied with a quick glance heavenward. “Honey,” he crooned to Sona, “it’s okay. Everything is okay.”
But the tension in his voice, in every muscle of his body, conveyed a far different circumstance to Nicki.
Sean’s gaze implored her. Help me, it silently asked.
Touching Sona, or trying to take the child from Sean would only make matters worse, Nicki feared. She decided that even addressing Sona when the child was so upset was the wro
ng course of action. So she decided to focus her attention on Sean. If she could get him to calm down, then maybe Sona would as well.
“Sit down,” Nicki quietly told Sean, pointing to an old, worn easy chair.
“I can’t,” he said.
He jostled the toddler, evidently hoping to rock her into a calmer state. Nicki sensed that the anxiety he was feeling was keeping him from realizing just how vigorously he was jiggling Sona.
“You can—” she took him by the sleeve of his shirt and directed him closer to the chair “—and you will.”
He sat and the jostling stopped. But Sona’s tears did not.
“What do I do?” he asked. “Tell me how to calm her. She’s been crying for nearly thirty minutes. She’s going to make herself sick.”
“She looks so tired,” Nicki observed.
“We’re both exhausted.”
He had faint circles under his eyes and his jaw was shadowed with the day’s growth of beard. Nicki couldn’t help but remember how clean and smooth his face had been that morning when they had stood together and…
Stop, she silently chided.
“I’m afraid I might have made a mistake.”
His voice held enough doubt and insecurity to melt Nicki’s heart. Crouching by the chair, she reached out and stroked his arm lightly, taking care not to touch Sona.
“All I wanted was to give her a good life,” he continued, miserably. “To make her happy. But how can I do that when I can’t even tell what it is she wants?”
“You’re going to be just fine,” she told him. “You can’t have expected every minute to be sunshine and roses. Especially at first. She’s got to get used to you.”
“But we did just fine this afternoon.”
The three of them sat for a moment, Sean seeking solace from Nicki, Nicki trying to silently comfort him and Sona, who was releasing distressful sobs.
Then the little girl did the most extraordinary thing. She pressed her tiny palm to Sean’s face and looked him directly in the eye. For a split second the room was filled with an utter and profound silence.
“Pisne.” Sona’s voice sounded thick from her tearful spell.
