Don't Go (10 page)

Bob’s arms stayed folded, and his lips formed a businesslike line. “I can work around her, and I admire her for stepping up for Emily the way she is. It’s the right thing to do.”

“Yes, totally, it was, it is. I mean, it’s great and I appreciate both of you. The only reason I hesitated was because I didn’t want to impose. Do you really want a baby around, when it’s not your own?” Mike realized he’d said the wrong thing when Bob and Danielle looked at each other. He remembered too late that Danielle couldn’t have children, which was a sore spot. “Guys, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I meant it’s a huge burden to take on, that’s all.”

Danielle reached across the table and patted his hand. “I know that’s what you meant.”

Bob unfolded his arms, softening. “You’re not pushing the burden on us, we’re happy to assume it. Don’t you think it would be best for Emily if she stayed with us? What more do you need to know to make your decision?”

“Nothing, really,” Mike answered, defensive. “There’s been so much to deal with, I feel like I haven’t had a second to focus on it.”

“So, focus now.” Bob’s tone softened. “What do you think?”

“Okay, then, Bob and Danielle, you’re on.” Mike felt put on the spot, but there was no point in delay. “I think it’s a wonderful offer you’ve made, and I accept with gratitude. I appreciate you both more than I can say.”

“Oh, Mike.” Danielle came around the table and hugged his shoulders. “Thank you so much. We appreciate your confidence and trust. You know we’ll take the best possible care of her. We love her more than life itself.”

“We sure will.” Bob smiled with relief. “You had me worried. I don’t want to see my niece taken out of this family. You never know what you’re getting with agencies. Danielle wouldn’t sleep a wink.”

“It’s what Chloe would want, too.” Mike reached for his water, taking a sip.

“Then we’re all agreed.” Bob clapped his hands together, as if to dispel the tension between them.

“We’re all agreed.” Mike nodded, and Danielle went back to her seat.

“I promise you, I will always do what’s best for that child, no matter what.” Danielle looked him in the eye, and Mike returned her gaze, touched.

“I know you will, and I thank you for it. She’s a lucky baby to have you both, and so am I.”

Bob sat down noisily. “Well then, there’s some papers you should sign, if we’re going to take care of the baby until you get back.”

“Like what?” Mike asked, chewing his stew.

“A temporary guardianship, in case she has to be taken to the hospital, God forbid, while you’re away.” Bob went into lawyer mode, his manner official. “We don’t want to be in a position where we can’t get her the medical care she needs because we’re not the parents.”

“Okay, how do we get those papers? Can you draft them, like you did the wills?”

“Of course. I didn’t want to push the button until you had decided. I’ll email one of my associates and get her started, so we get them signed before you go back.”

“Sounds good.” Mike’s heart eased for a brief moment. He knew he was doing the right thing for Emily, and the baby would be happy here. He took another bite of stew, telling himself he didn’t need to know why Danielle was so late that night.

Chapter Seventeen

Mike tossed and turned, sleepless. The mattress felt so wide and cushy, and he’d grown accustomed to this skinny, unforgiving rack in Afghanistan. He closed his eyes, trying not to think. It seemed impossible that Chloe was lying apart from him, somewhere else, not even of this world. The only part of life left for him was the baby, sleeping down the hall. On impulse, he got out of bed and padded to the door. He had on his boxers and undershirt, so he didn’t bother with the robe that Danielle had hung on the hook for him. He went down the hall, keeping his footsteps light.

He reached her room, put his hand on the knob, and turned it as slowly and quietly as possible, then crept inside, tiptoed to a rocking chair in the corner, and sat down carefully. He didn’t want to terrify her or bring Danielle running; he just wanted to be with his daughter. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t awake; it mattered only that she was breathing, and he could hear that, her soft little puffs of respiration, one after the other. It made him smile because it was louder than he’d expected. He wondered if Emily would grow up to snore, like Chloe.

I don’t snore,
she had said.

Honey, face it. You snore.

How dare you? Girls don’t snore.

I know one who does.

Mike smiled at the memory. He leaned his head back in the rocking chair and found himself rocking, silently. The chair didn’t squeak, and the rug was thick. It soothed him on some primal level, the rhythmic motion and the regular breathing of his child, not six feet away.

He wished he could go over and pick her up, but even that wish ebbed away with the rocking of the chair. It was his need to hold her, not her need to be held by him. He was her father, but he was also a stranger, and in a few days he would be gone. It would be selfish to barge his way into her life, temporarily, insisting. Much better to stay in the chair, being in her tiny presence.

His gaze wandered around the dim room, taking in the crib, the changing table, the chest of drawers, the baby monitor with the glowing button, and the diaper pail, all of which he had bought with Chloe. It was an odd sensation, to be sitting in the room he knew, but in a completely different house, and to have Danielle, an almost-Chloe, now in Chloe’s place.

He felt dislocated and strange again, as if he existed betwixt and between, a life in the interstices of time and space, not on earth but somehow suspended in the air, one of a haphazard family of leftover people. There was no mother to hold them altogether, nothing to keep them in orbit, no sun at all. It was cold and dark as outer space, and they floated aimlessly in the void, holding onto each other’s hands, pulling each other’s fingers and arms, stretching each other’s limbs like taffy, moving in blackness without path or direction, seeking a gravitational pull to order them and give them something they could safely encircle, like a center, or a home.

Later, Mike woke up in the rocking chair, at the sound of a tiny cough. The chintz curtains were light from the morning sun behind them, but there was no clock and he didn’t have a watch. He didn’t want to disturb the baby, so he stayed still.

“Bbb,” Emily said, like a little motorboat in her crib.

Mike felt charmed. It sounded ridiculously cute.

“BBbbbb bha.”

Mike smiled as Emily kept making happy little sounds in her crib, all of which seemed to start with B. He tried to figure out what she was saying. Ball? Box? Boy? Baby?
Bob?

Mike felt a tug in his chest. It better not be Bob. He put it out of his mind; it wouldn’t help to be jealous of Bob or anybody else.

“Bbb BAH!” Emily raised her voice, and it sounded more like a cry, as if she wanted to get up.

Mike straightened up in the rocking chair, slowly. He couldn’t get out in time and he didn’t want to escape, anyway. He wanted to try again.

“Bah! BAH!” Emily said again, loudly. She had a strong voice for a little baby. She was something, this kid, he could tell. Made of sterner stuff.

“BAHHHHH!” Emily seemed to be calling out, and Mike saw his chance. He got up, walked to the crib, and peeked over the rail, ducking down so he didn’t seem so imposing.

“Hi, honey,” Mike whispered. “How’s my little baby?”

Emily looked at him. Her eyes flared, then widened, and her little arms flew backwards. Her tiny chest heaved once or twice, and she began to cry.

“Aw, Emily, it’s okay.” Mike picked her up and held her close, against his chest, rocking her the way Danielle had the other night. “Emily, Emily, it’s okay. Everything is okay. I love you, and you don’t have to worry.”

Emily only wailed.

“It’s okay, baby.” Mike spotted a pacifier in the crib, scooped it up, and tried to put it in Emily’s mouth, but she turned her head this way and that. “Emily, take your pacifier, it’s okay.”

Suddenly the bedroom door opened, and Danielle appeared in a chenille robe covered with cartoon coffee cups. “Mike, I could get her, I was just coming in to get her.”

“I know, but I want to try.” Mike cuddled the crying baby. “Let me just give it a try. I’m supporting her head, I got it.”

“All right, sure.” Danielle smiled, uncertainly. “She always wakes up cranky, but she likes the pacifier.”

“The pacifier is my friend.”

“Right.” Danielle ducked out of the bedroom. “Good luck,” she said, closing the door softly behind her.

Emily wailed louder, twisting her head. She seemed to be looking for Danielle, but Mike walked away with her, to the window.

“It’s okay, Emily, it’s okay.” Mike cradled her, trying to get the pacifier into her mouth, but she turned her head back and forth, then raised her hand and almost batted it away.

“Wow.” Mike felt almost proud. “I didn’t know you could do that, honey. What a good arm. You’ll be a great little pitcher someday.”

Still she cried.

“Here you go, honey. Here’s your pacifier.” Mike watched her twist her head back and forth, then predicted when she’d turn to the left, so he took the pacifier and plugged it in her mouth, then he held it there, fighting the sensation that he was going to suffocate her. “Don’t you want your pacifier?”

Emily cried and tried to push the pacifier out of her mouth with her tongue, while she twisted her head back and forth. Mike started to sweat, not wanting to force the pacifier on her, so he took it out, giving her a break.

Emily bawled, full-bore. Tears streamed down her soft cheeks. Snot leaked from her nose.

“Honey, it’s okay,” Mike soothed, but it wasn’t working. His mouth went dry. He felt unreasonably nervous. He couldn’t believe how hard this was. He was amazed that mothers did this every day. He just didn’t know what to do.

Emily cried at the top of her lungs. Her little face burned bright red. Her chest heaved, and she began to make hiccupping sounds, like she was entering a baby danger zone.

“Mike?” Danielle opened the door. “Can I help?”

Emily burst into new tears, reaching for Danielle, hiccupping and heaving.

“Danielle, what do I do? What am I doing wrong? She won’t take the pacifier.”

“Give her to me.” Danielle took the howling baby from Mike’s arms. “If she keeps going like this, she’ll throw up.”

“She’ll what?” Mike asked, but in the next second, he had his answer.

Chapter Eighteen

“Good morning, Bob.” Mike came downstairs, showered and shaved as Bob was leaving, slipping a topcoat over his suit.

“Morning. Unfortunately, I’m off to work.” Bob grabbed his laptop and slid it into a messenger bag that read
THE RIDGEWAY GROUP.
“I’ll be home by three, and the wake’s not ’til seven. We’ll go over a little early, at six.”

“Bob, don’t be late,” Danielle called out from the kitchen. “Mike, come have some eggs.”

“Be right in,” Mike called back. “I owe you a new bathrobe.”

Danielle chuckled. “Stop, I’m christened, is all.”

Bob winked. “She has other bathrobes, believe me. I’ve gotta meet a client, but I could be finished at noon if you wanted to go over and clean the house. I’d be happy to help.”

“Clean my house? Why?” Mike hadn’t been planning to go back home. He wanted to stay here and try to make progress with Emily.

“I’m just saying, because of, you know, the way it was left.” Bob lowered his voice, glancing toward the kitchen.

“Oh, okay. I guess you’re right, but you don’t need to come back. Maybe I’ll go over there myself, I’ll see.”

“If you want me to go with you, gimme a call. If not, I’ll stay at the office and finish up. I’m taking Danielle’s car, so you can keep mine. I don’t think we need to get yours out of the garage. By the way, I put those documents for the temporary guardianship in the living room.” Bob gestured at the coffee table, and Mike looked over, surprised to see a thick stack of papers.

“That was fast.”

“Thanks.” Bob went to the front door and opened it, letting in some cold air, despite the storm door. It looked cold and gray outside. “All you have to do is sign them, but don’t date them. My notary will take care of that. They’re self-explanatory, but if you don’t understand something, make a note and we’ll talk about it. I gotta go.” Bob called back to the kitchen, “See you, honey, love you.”

“Love you, too,” Danielle called back.

“See you, Bob, and thanks,” Mike said, as Bob left, then he walked to the coffee table, sat down on the couch, and skimmed the first page.

“Mike?” Danielle called from the kitchen. “Are you coming in?”

“After I see these, okay?” Mike started to read the papers, and the one on top read
TEMPORARY GUARDIANSHIP AGREEMENT
:

I, Michael Patrick Scanlon, of 637 Foster Ave., Wilberg, PA, as custodial parent of my minor child, Emily Voulette Scanlon, do hereby grant temporary plenary custody of the abovementioned minor child to Robert and Danielle Ridgeway, the uncle and aunt of the abovementioned minor child.

Mike wasn’t sure what plenary meant, but it didn’t seem like it mattered, so he read on:

I, Michael Patrick Scanlon, believe that it is in the best interest of the aforementioned minor child that she remain in the physical and legal custody of her uncle and aunt, the aforementioned Robert and Danielle Voulette, and that they be granted full and plenary powers of temporary guardianship, including but not limited to the following …

Mike scanned the list, which seemed to cover every conceivable situation:

In the event of an emergency or nonemergency situation requiring medical treatment, I hereby grant permission for any and all medical and/or dental attention to be administered to the aforementioned minor child.

In the event of an accidental injury or illness, I hereby grant permission for any and all medical attention to be administered to my minor child.

This permission includes, but is not limited to, the administration of first aid, ambulance, and the administration of anesthesia and/or surgery under the recommendation of qualified medical personnel …