Don't Go (28 page)

“Really?” Bob asked.

“Sure, why not? It gives you guys a break.”

“Don’t be silly.” Danielle rose, tying her bathrobe tighter, but it wasn’t loose. “We don’t need a break, and we like to take her. Everyone loves to see her, even Father Hernandez.”

Mike was about to give in, to make them happy, but he noticed Emily’s gaze fixed on him, and in the next second, she scrunched up her nose in another Emily-wink. It was so cute he felt his heart jump, which he knew wasn’t medically possible. “No, really, I’d like to stay here with her. I’ve hardly seen her.”

“You sure?” Danielle lingered beside the high chair, resting her hand protectively on the plastic tray. “She’ll have separation anxiety. I don’t leave her very often.”

“It’s only for an hour or so.” Mike wanted to be closer to Emily and he had to start somewhere.

“It’s not easy, you know.”

“Nobody’s shooting at us, are they?” Mike smiled more confidently than he truly felt. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Chapter Fifty-one

Mike had expected Emily to be upset after Danielle and Bob left, but not
this
upset. He sat cross-legged on the floor, and she stood in her yellow sleeper at the front door, pounding it with her little fists, as if she could break it down and run after them. She cried hysterically, her face turning red, her eyes pouring tears, and her nose streaming.

“Mommy!” Emily sobbed. “Daddy!”

“It’s okay, Emily. They’ll be back soon, you’ll see.” Mike kept his tone soothing, though she couldn’t hear him anyway. She’d burst into tears the moment they closed the door, twenty minutes ago, and showed no signs of flagging. Mike had no idea how to calm her down and had never felt more useless in his life.

“Mommy! Daddy!”

“Don’t cry, Emily. Want to read a book, honey?” Mike picked up a book called
Spot Goes to School,
from a pile on the floor. “Look, sweetheart, here’s a book about Spot the dog. The teacher wants to sing, but where’s Spot? Look, open the flap and here’s Spot. Aw, Spot is sad because he can’t sing.” Mike rejected that as unhelpful, picked up another book, and held it up.

“Here’s one about Spot at school. What did you bring, Spot?” Mike lifted the flap. “Look, Emily. Spot brought his bone!” He held the book high, but she didn’t turn around, so he turned the page. “Here’s Spot on the playground. Where’s Spot, Emily?” He opened the flap. “There’s Spot, in the tree!”

Emily bawled harder.

Mike gave up on Spot, found a book about cats, and held it up, shifting into her field of vision. “Emily, look at the cats. Don’t cry.” He opened to the first page. “Here’s a picture of a cat and a lion. See?”

Emily hiccupped tears, inconsolable, and Mike was sad, for her. He could see that she thought her parents had just walked out on her, never to come back, and he couldn’t imagine how awful that felt, until he remembered that his father had done just that. He never wanted Emily to feel that desolate, ever.

“Aw, honey, don’t be sad, I’m here, Daddy’s here, and we can read books and have fun. Just give it a chance.” Mike heard himself begging, but that was fine, if it worked. He turned a page in the cat book. “Look, Emily, here’s cats cleaning themselves. They lick their feet to make sure they’re nice and clean.” He spotted a Maine Coon Cat that looked exactly like Jake. “Look, Emily, here’s Jake the cat. Remember Jake, our cat?”

Emily looked over miserably, resting her hands on the front door. She didn’t stop crying, but Mike could see he had gotten her attention. Last night, he’d seen plenty of photos of Emily with Jake, and it was possible that she remembered him.

“Hi, Jake the cat. I love you, Jake. Jake was a great cat.” Mike turned the page, and there was a picture of a calico cat playing with a mouse toy. “Look at the cat with his toy! I love cats. Do you like cats, Emily?”

Emily sniffled, but her sobs slowed, and Mike sensed the cat book was doing the trick. He turned the next page. “Emily, look at the kitten. There’s two baby kittens. This is an Abyssinian cat and kittens.” He eyed the photo of a mother cat with two kittens and edited it on the fly. “There’s two kittens with their daddy. Look at the kittens with their daddy. They love each other. Isn’t that so nice?”

Emily looked over, heaving a final sniffle. Tears wet her cheeks and mucus leaked from her nose, but her crying fit was ending. Mike wanted to jump for joy, but he was learning that he did better if he stayed calm. He didn’t want to jinx himself, like a pitcher on a lucky streak.

“Emily, look at the cat, rubbing on the person’s leg. Jake did that. I love cats.” Mike turned the page, which showed a picture of a lion. Emily had only one hand on the door now and was trying to see the book, so he turned the page. “Here’s the lion, king of the jungle.” He worked the propaganda angle. “He’s the daddy lion, and he takes care of his family. The daddy lion loves his family.”

Emily toddled over, keeping her distance but focusing on the book with teary eyes, and Mike felt so relieved that she was finally relaxing around him, and he turned the page. “This shows a leopard. It says that leopards live in Africa. Wow, I love leopards.” He kept his voice warm and happy. “Look at all the spots on this leopard. It’s just like Jake. All the cats are alike, whether they’re big or little. I love them all.”

Emily stood silently beside him, wavering slightly, her arms hanging loosely at her sides and her eyes brimming, though no new tears were flowing. Mike flipped to the next page. “Here we go. These are cats that live in the forest. Aren’t they cute? Here’s one who lives in South America. He sleeps in the trees during the day.”

Emily pointed a goopy finger at the page. “Big.”

“Right, big.” Mike realized she had spoken to him, for the third time in her life, after “no” and “snow.” He wanted to keep his streak going. “He’s a big cat. This is a whole book about big cats. Isn’t that so nice? I love big cats.” He turned the page, skipped the scary cheetah, and went ahead. “Oh look at this. Here’s a Scottish wildcat, an African wildcat, and an Indian Desert cat. There are so many different kinds of big cats in the world.”

Emily kept her glistening eyes on the page, but plopped down, tucking her legs under her, and Mike couldn’t believe it. She sat right next to him, but he acted natural and turned to a picture of an orange Persian cat. “Look at this cat. He has eyes that are nice and orange, aren’t they? I think he’s beautiful. Don’t you?”

Suddenly, Emily got up, toddled over to the book pile, and started to paw through them. “I want metamin.”

“Which one, honey?” Mike asked, but Emily found a small white book and was having trouble with the pages. He shifted toward her and saw its cover. “Oh,
The Tale of Benjamin Bunny.
” He realized she’d been saying Benjamin. “I like Benjamin, too. Would you like me to read that book to you?”

“Yes.” Emily handed him the book, and Mike wanted to cheer. He was up to four words. They were actually talking to each other.

“I would love to read it to you, honey. Let’s read about Benjamin.” Mike shifted over, rested his back against the couch, and opened the first page. “Oh, look at this little brown bunny rabbit. That’s Benjamin, I bet.” He began to read, and by the third sentence, Emily was standing beside him, looking down at the book, listening. He continued, and Emily sat down beside him, quietly, but he didn’t show any reaction. He merely kept on, and it struck him that he was reading to Emily for the first time, his first “first.” There were tears in his eyes when he read, The End.

“Again!” Emily said suddenly, and Mike smiled, delighted.

“You want me to read it again?”

“Yes.” Emily looked up at him with shiny blue eyes, and Mike’s throat caught.

“Great, let’s read it again.” He went to the beginning of the book and started to read, this time showing her different things in the illustrations. He noticed her eyelids getting heavy, so he pulled a big pillow from the couch onto the floor, leaned back, and rested his head, leaving room for her. “Honey, let’s lie down. Put your head here, and we’ll finish reading about Benjamin, okay?”

Mike held his breath, fearing he’d pushed his luck, but Emily scooted down, stretched out her little legs, and plopped her curly head beside him on the pillow, an act so trusting and tender that he fell completely in love with her. His heart filled with a happiness he’d never known.

Mike read until Emily fell asleep, her miniature chest rising and falling, then he closed the book and let his gaze travel over her beautiful face, taking in her features as if he were memorizing them, like the curl of her eyelashes, the hillock of her nose, and the gentle curve of her cheeks, where her tears had dried. She really did look like some sort of angel, a golden child with a halo of blonde curls. He felt so blessed to have her, and he understood as an epiphany that the state of fatherhood was a state of grace. He vowed silently, then and there, that he would love Emily, take care of her, and always put her first, until his very last breath.

He drifted off with peace in his heart and a smile on his face, feeling that, in a way, he had gone to church, after all.

But he woke up to the sound of screaming.

Chapter Fifty-two

“No!” someone shrieked, and Mike shot up from the floor, with a thousand panicked thoughts. Insurgents. IEDs. Gunfire. Wounded. He came to his senses in a flash. Bob and Danielle were charging up the stairs, toward the sound of crying.

“Emily!” Mike yelled, running up the stairs after them. He didn’t know what was going on.

“Thank God, thank God!” Danielle dropped to her knees on the landing, holding a crying Emily. “Thank God she didn’t fall, thank God.”

“She’s all right.” Bob stood panting on the stairwell, his hand resting on the banister. His chest heaved up and down in his suit. “Everything’s all right.”

“I must’ve fallen asleep.” Mike sank to the step in the middle of the stairwell, against the wall, his stump aching. “We were on the floor, side-by-side, reading—”

“You can’t
do
that!” Bob shouted, whipping his head around to glare down at Mike. “You can’t
fall asleep
on her. When we came home, she was at the top of the stairs, crying. She could have fallen down the stairs. She could have broken her neck!”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” Mike swooned with the horror of what could have happened. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized—”

“What happened?” Bob shouted. “Did you
nod out
? Was it the drugs? What? Are you a freaking
addict now
?”

“No, it wasn’t the drugs,” Mike said, defensive. “I was tired and I fell asleep. I shouldn’t have, but I’m not a drug addict.”

“I don’t know what your problem is!” Bob’s upper lip curled with scorn. “You begged us to leave her with you and you fell asleep on her. You’re with her for two hours and you can’t even stay awake? What’s the
matter
with you?”

Danielle held Emily close as Emily wailed, full-bore. “Bob, you’re making it worse, stop it.” She turned to Mike, with frightened tears. “Mike, you can’t fall asleep when you’re babysitting, if she’s not in her crib. I told you, you have to keep an eye on her. Why do you think we babyproofed everything? She’s an active child.”

“I know, I know.” Mike sighed, miserably. “It was a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”

Bob scoffed. “You’re damn right it won’t! We’ll think long and hard before we leave you alone with her again!”

Mike recoiled. “She’s my child, Bob. I know I made a mistake—”

“A mistake that could have
killed
her!”

“I know that—”

“So don’t let yourself off the hook so easy!”

“I’m not.” Mike wanted to go to Emily, but she was crying too hard. “Emily, it’s all right. Everything is all right. Daddy’s here. Daddy loves you.”

Bob snorted. “What a joke.”

“Bob!” Danielle’s eyes flared. “That’s enough. Go cool down. I don’t want you to say anything you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret any of it.” Bob stormed up the stairs past Danielle and Emily, and the tension went down in the stairwell. The only sounds were Emily’s sobs and Mike’s heart, beating in his own ears.

“I really am sorry, Danielle,” Mike softened his tone. “We had fun, we read. She fell asleep, I fell asleep. I assumed she’d stay asleep, but that was the wrong assumption.”

“Was that the painkillers? Tell me the truth.”

“No, absolutely not,” Mike answered, then a wave of guilt washed over him. “I don’t know—” he added, without finishing the sentence.

“You don’t know what?” Danielle rubbed Emily’s back. “Talk to me. We need to be honest with each other.”

“Okay, the meds could have been a factor, but I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I just felt so peaceful after she fell asleep that I just conked out myself.” Mike looked at Emily, who was looking down at him. Her frightened eyes told him that her trust in him had vanished, which killed him. “Emily, I love you and I’m sorry. I took a nap and that was not a good thing for Daddy to do.”

Emily twisted away, and Danielle held her tighter. “Her diaper smells. Did you change it?”

“No, she was fine when we fell asleep.”

“Oh.” Danielle stood up, her lips an unhappy line. “What time are you going to the office? I thought you said one o’clock, and it’s almost eleven.”

“Oh, right.” Mike checked his watch. “I better get going, if I’m going to stop at the police station.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m going to change her diaper. See you later.” Danielle walked down the hallway with Emily, and Mike felt as if his heart had been torn from his chest.

“See you later, Emily!” he called after her.

Chapter Fifty-three

Mike sat in his car, stricken, having parked a few blocks away from Bob and Danielle’s. The street was cold, sunny, and lined with brick McMansions. The sidewalks were blown, the driveways plowed, and the cars snug in their garages, with fake windows. His head was pounding, his stump throbbing. He would have taken another pill, but it was risky to go to the police station in an altered state, and he didn’t have that many left.

Are you a freaking addict now?