The Mommy Miracle (12 page)

She slowed toward the end of it. She was getting sleepy again. Jodie thought about enlisting Dev's help to put her down in the bassinet he'd brought, but decided there was no hurry. Okay, so DJ hadn't smiled yet, but she wasn't crying. Okay, so there was no overwhelming wave of love like the one Jodie had caught such a short, lovely glimpse of in her own heart at Oakbank, but still, this felt… It felt…

Peaceful.

Unhurried.

Unpressured.

Worthwhile.

Maybe I'll close my eyes for a little, too…

She woke up when Dev took DJ gently from her arms. “How long was I—?”

“Half an hour or so.”

“And you've been sitting there the whole time in case I let her fall.”

“Not the whole time. I took out some insurance.” He gestured to a big, soft nest of pillows laid out on the floor in front of the couch. “She wouldn't have gone far. So I did some unpacking, set up the kitchen. It's beautiful outside. Hot, but there's a breeze, and the woods are shady. Want to explore?”

DJ did. She was wide-awake, bouncing in her daddy's arms, a pink frenzy of energy. With a dexterity borne of
experience, Dev strapped her into her little front pouch carrier, facing forward so she could see everything that was going on.

“I'd love to explore,” Jodie told him. “Let me change out of this skirt, though.”

Dev screwed up his face and said slowly, “Yeah, about that…”

She gave him a questioning look.

“Remember in the car when you questioned your dad's capabilities in the packing department?”

“Uh, yes, I do.”

“Well, you'll see for yourself.”

“You're scaring me now.” She stood up and made her way to the bedroom at the back of the cabin that looked out onto the woods. It was a lovely room, spacious and clean-lined, with the greenery outside giving it a cool light.

Dev and DJ followed her into the room and she saw that he'd opened the suitcase Dad had packed for her, but had left it on the bed with the top flipped back and everything still in place inside. “Just so you don't check the contents and decide I sabotaged them,” he said. “This is exactly the way he had it.”

She looked at the tangle of garments in the crammed piece of luggage. “This is it? This is what he packed?”

“I gave him a list, remember? He told me he'd followed it.”

She looked some more, dipped her hands into the tangle and pulled out a pair of scarlet pantyhose she'd once worn as a Moulin Rouge dancer to a fancy dress ball. “Can I ask what was on the list?”

“Underwear and socks, a swimsuit, something warm in case the nights chill down, a couple of outfits for going out, daywear, et cetera.”

She rummaged a little more. “Well, okay, I guess it's all there.”

She set everything out on the bed, while Dev and DJ watched. DJ seemed to love the color and movement.

Item one—what looked to be the entire contents of her underwear and sock drawer, and she'd had “tidy underwear drawer” on her to-do list for a good six months before the accident. She thought about apologizing for the number of bras, since Dev had been the one to lug the suitcase inside, but didn't want to call attention to it.

For some reason, he seemed to be smiling.

“Did, um, my family toss any of my stuff when they moved it out of the cottage at Oakbank?”

“You tell me. You seem to own forty pairs of socks now. How many did you own before?”

“What can I say? Horse people need a lot of socks.” She turned back to the suitcase.

Item two—a chocolate-brown halter-neck bikini she hadn't worn in five years, because on vacation in Florida where she'd bought it, it hadn't seemed too skimpy, but in Ohio it definitely did. Well, at least it didn't weigh much.

No comment from Dev.

But he was still smiling. Or had it progressed to a grin at this point?

Item three—the huge, vibrantly colored and fringed silk-and-wool gypsy shawl was warm, for sure, and finely woven and beautiful, but she kept it hanging in her room more as a decoration than something to wear.

“Where'd that come from?” Dev asked.

“Lisa bought it for me when they went to Europe.”

“I think DJ likes it.” Facing out at his chest height,
she was kicking her legs and flapping her arms. Not smiling, but close.

Item four—the bridesmaid dresses from Maddy's and Lisa's weddings. Maddy had gone for a sophisticated look, and her bridesmaids had worn strapless gold-and-silver sheaths. Lisa had wanted a Victorian feel with a hint of burlesque, which for some reason added up to sage-green satin overlaid with black lace. DJ liked both of those, too.

Item five—a single summer top, one pair of shorts and some hiking boots. “Those will team great with the shawl once the sun goes down,” Dev said.

“Well, as long as I color-coordinate the socks…” She'd reached the bottom of the suitcase. “There's no pajamas or shoes.”

“Huh. Sorry. My bad.” He spread his hands, but they were grinning at each other, because how could you not? The whole bed was a mess of fabric and balled socks.

“Or toothbrush or makeup.”

“Those were meant to be covered by the et cetera.”

“Not as far as Dad was concerned, apparently.”

“I should have checked.”

“Or brush or comb or shampoo.” She looked helplessly at the mess and thought of Dad, Dev's coconspirator, his intentions so good and the result so…
not
. “It's too funny, Dev. I love it!”

“You do?” DJ jiggled her little legs some more, against his front.

“It's so Dad. It's— Mom and Elin would have packed perfectly and sensibly and used up three suitcases. Dad just wanted us to make a clean getaway and didn't think it through.”

“The clean-getaway part was pretty important.”

“Yep.”

“So…shop first and then explore the place, or the other way around?”

“The other way around. I didn't come all this way to buy a toothbrush. Even the hospital gift shop had those.”

“And dinner out tonight, I'm thinking. Some low-key kind of place where they won't hate us for bringing a baby.”

“Is there any other kind of place in Southern Ohio? Not sure I'll be wearing either of those dresses, though.”

They took an easy ramble around the cabin, finding the start of the trail through the woods, a bench for sitting and looking at the view over the rolling woods and farmlands, a stone birdbath, and a newly planted stretch of garden that would look fabulous in a few years, especially in spring when the dogwood trees came into their extravagant white and pink colors.

With the baby right in the thick of things against Dev's front, Jodie expected him to push her a little, the way he had earlier when she'd been crying in the car, but he didn't and she was thankful for that. She needed breathing space. She couldn't bear to rush, or push herself.

In case DJ felt her tension and doubt.

In case Dev guessed just how blocked and lost she was, and despised her for it.

“It's so peaceful here,” she said, aware of him watching her too closely, as he sometimes did. Did he see as much as DJ? She mustn't let him see. “So beautiful.”

Look at the beauty, Dev, don't look at me.

Beyond a field of tall corn, they could see the farmhouse belonging to this piece of land. Jodie wondered if they'd meet the owners during their stay. She'd like
to thank them for this place. “We'll definitely be back,” she would want to tell them, but she didn't know if that would be possible. Who was “we”? Herself and DJ? All three of them?

“Like it, then?” Dev asked.

“Very much.”

“DJ seems pretty happy, too.” Okay, that was a push from him. The baby dangled against his front, completely at home in that position.

Because Dev expected it—and because she knew he was right—Jodie said to her, as brightly as she could, “Are you happy, DJ? Are you having fun?” And DJ gazed back at her with those big, wise eyes and didn't smile.

T
hat night, as planned, they went to a family-style place where no one minded that DJ lay in her stroller right beside the table and sat on Dev's lap for her bottle, and where there was a change table in a space of its own adjacent to the bathroom. The place quickly filled up with groups of all sizes, parents and grandparents and kids, couples with toddlers, dads with daughters, moms with sons.

An older couple came past on the way to their table, while Dev and Jodie waited for their entrées, and paused when they saw the baby, back in her stroller and growing sleepy. “Oh, she's beautiful!” the woman said.

“I'm sorry,” the woman's husband apologized, standing back a little. “She never can resist a baby.”

“It's fine,” Dev said. “We think she's pretty hard to resist, too.”

Jodie smiled and nodded and felt so exposed.

“How old is she?” The woman turned instinctively to Jodie.

Because I'm the mom.

“I— She's—” Her mind went blank and she didn't have the right answer. Did she say four months? DJ looked too small for that. So did she explain right away that the baby was born early?

“Almost four months,” Dev answered easily, before Jodie had solved the dilemma in her head. He'd met these kinds of questions before. “She's tiny!”

He'd met this reaction before, also. His answer was as easy and cheerful as before. “Getting bigger as fast as she knows how.”

“What's her name?”

“We call her DJ.”

“Oh, but that's short for something, right? My niece is CJ, short for Caroline Jean.”

“We haven't decided yet, so for the moment it's just DJ.”

“You haven't decided? And she's four months old? Well, if that don't beat all!” The woman laughed, not unkindly but definitely in surprise, as if today's new parents were a mystery to her, in a cute sort of way.

Jodie said quickly, “I like DJ. I can't imagine calling her anything else.”

“Well, she is adorable.”

“You make a beautiful family,” her husband said, and the couple moved on.

“You like DJ?” Dev echoed quietly, once they were out of earshot. He leaned a little closer across the table and she felt their complicated connection like honey melting over her.

“I do. It belongs to her now.” She remembered that
shocking day four weeks ago when she'd found Dev at his front door with his crying daughter in his arms. “It's…how we were introduced.”

He sat back again. “I'm sorry, it just worked out that way.”

“You don't have to apologize.”

“We do need to find something, though, or she'll get that woman's reaction about her initials for the rest of her life.”

“Dani Jane,” Jodie blurted out, because suddenly it seemed important for DJ to have a proper name, one that came from her mom, one that was chosen with joy, even if no one used it very often.

“Yeah?” The intent look came again, coupled with a spark deep in his eyes. “You want it to be Dani Jane?”

“I don't know where it came from. But I just had a feeling. It's kind of sassy and strong, as well as being feminine. It's not too big a step away from DJ. When she's older, it gives her some choices about what she calls herself.”

“I like it. What do you think, baby girl?”

But DJ had fallen asleep and couldn't give an opinion. Their meal arrived, in the form of two steaming plates of home-style meat and vegetables—one meat loaf, one sirloin tips. The other adult diners were tucking into similarly hearty fare, while kids mostly had plates of nuggets and fries or spaghetti with meatballs. There were at least four high chairs in use, and lots of messy kid faces streaked in ketchup or sporting milk moustaches.

“We fit right in,” Jodie said.

“Weird, huh?” He frowned, suddenly.

“Not so weird.”

“Different, then.”

“You don't like it?” All Jodie wanted right now was to fit in, to be a normal mom.

“Let's just say, I'm a little suspicious when I fit in too well.”

“You're an outlaw at heart?”

“I like a little adventure, for sure.”

“This gravy is an adventure, as far as I'm concerned. What is that?” She speared a dark blob.

“Mushroom, I'm pretty sure.”

“Okay, not such an adventure. Well, but it is, actually. Just being here. When a few months ago I was…nowhere. Something strange happened at first, Dev, although it's ebbing now. Sometimes when I smelled or tasted or touched something, the sensation was so strong and new. The day of the barbecue, when Dad was cooking those onions. It was as if no one in the world had ever smelled fried onions before, and the ketchup, too. It was like discovering gravity or gold.”

“I've had that feeling sometimes with DJ,” he answered slowly. “I hadn't thought of it that way, but you're right. As if I'm the first person in the world ever to take care of a baby. Just the smell of her hair…”

“Adventures and experiences don't have to be big and splashy, do they? The tiniest moments can be precious, and so fresh they sparkle.”

“That's true…” His eyes had gone smoky and thought ful.

I just wish I could find those moments with our baby,
she wanted to tell him.
I wish the smell of her hair would make me feel as if the whole world was new. I wish I could see her smile for me.

Should she say it?

But she left it too long and the moment passed and she was too scared. It was good being here with Dev.
She couldn't bear to spoil it, couldn't stand the idea of seeing his face change if she said too much about what was and wasn't in her heart.

 

DJ stayed asleep for the whole of their meal but wakened and grew fussy as they drove back to the cabin. Dev could tell that Jodie was tired, she knew, and he gave her the kind of easy way out she'd come to expect from her mother and sisters, not from him.

“You need a good night's sleep. Find something to read from that shelf of books to lull you off, and I'll take care of DJ. She can sleep in my room upstairs, and that way we won't disturb you if we're up in the night.”

She should have argued. A normal mom would. A normal mom would never have reached the point where her baby was four months old and she'd never yet wakened in the night to handle a feed or a diaper change. But she didn't want to argue. What if she did wake for DJ and couldn't get the baby to settle again? What if she ended up calling for Dev because nothing was working, including her left hand as she attempted a solo diaper change?

To hide her feelings, she teased, “I must have worked pretty hard today to get that kind of a break.”

But he was very serious when he answered. “You did great today, Jodie. You named her.”

“I—I guess I did. Must have really taken it out of me, because I'm wiped.” Don't cry, Jodie. Don't let him see. Step back so he doesn't feel how close you are to the edge. “Thank you,” she said, falling back on those very useful words, not even knowing what she was thanking him for, right now. “In that case, I'll see you in the morning.”

For nearly an hour she lay in bed listening to the
sounds he made as he took care of DJ, settled her in her bassinet, then relaxed in the living area with music playing.

Aching for him.

Aching for herself and what she was missing.

Aching for DJ, who had the best dad in the world.

 

The baby had a good night, Dev said. They ate breakfast out on the deck, just cereal and fruit and coffee. Since it would be kind of useful to have a toothbrush and more than one pair of pants, they drove half an hour to a major store and picked up a few essentials. Jodie would have bought more, but DJ began to signal that she thought shopping was way overrated, so the one extra pair of shorts and a strappy tank would have to do.

After lunch and naps for both mom and baby, Dev suggested exploring the trail through the woods, and that sounded safe. A family thing to do. A time when the dad carried the baby in that little front pouch.

“Time to break out the new shorts, you mean?” she said, so that he wouldn't guess what she was thinking.

“Sounds like a plan.”

He left her alone to change. She was getting faster at it, but Ole Lefty still made some of the movements a challenge at times. In ten minutes or so, she met him back in the living area and they left the cabin, found the start of the marked trail leading into the woods and lost themselves in the cool greenery.

They walked slowly, because that was all she could do, but the pace didn't matter. Side by side, Jodie could hold on to Dev when she needed to, and he seemed to have an instinct about that, turning a little whenever the terrain grew too uneven. There were simple wooden benches at intervals, really just two tree stumps with a
plank nailed across the top, but they gave her the chance to sit and regroup, and meant that they could go farther.

There was a stream gurgling just out of sight, tantalizing them with its delicious sounds. There were cardinals and warblers, and they saw a greenish-brown salamander flick itself beneath a rock. The air had a fresh, peaty smell and it was so peaceful and quiet, just the sounds of water and leaves, their footfalls on the mushy earth, and Dev talking to DJ about the things they saw.

“See the cardinal? It's red. Look at it flashing through the trees, baby girl.”

Jodie felt shut out of his ease with the baby, even though she was right by his side. How could he talk to her like that, so unselfconscious about it, when DJ couldn't possibly understand? Red? Cardinal? How old would she have to be to learn colors and birds? She looked so happy there against his front in her pink outfit, with his voice so familiar in her ears.

I'm jealous….

Jodie felt the painful, complicated twist of it and hated herself. How could she ruin such a perfect afternoon with her own messed-up feelings? She'd thought a walk in the woods would be so safe, but instead she felt as if she'd walked into an ambush.

“She's a little young for the nature talk, isn't she, Dev?” The sour twist of shame and disappointment came out in her tone, despite her best efforts.

“I hate when I hear parents talking to kids as if they're not really people,” he answered easily, as if he hadn't heard the tone. He must have.

“But you coo at her.” Her throat was tight. She'd cooed at DJ, too, but it felt as if she were acting a role that she'd been cast in by mistake. Faking it. And badly.
Like last night, when she hadn't been able to answer a simple question about DJ's age.

“I coo at her,” Dev said. “I talk to her, I sing to her, I even confess things to her, sometimes.”

“Confess things?” What did Dev have to confess? He had become the most amazing father in such a short time. He was doing everything right, the way he always did, without making a big deal out of it in any way.

He mimicked himself. “Man, honey, I'm not so keen on this diaper change stuff. I'm hoping you'll potty train real early.”

She gave an upside-down laugh, disappointed. “Oh, that kind of confession.” She blinked fast, feeling the wash of tears.

“Why, what did you think?” He leaned a little, his shoulder giving a gentle, playful push against hers. He couldn't have seen the tears. She'd blinked them away. He mimicked again. “DJ, don't tell the cops, I wrapped the gun in a rag and buried it in the backyard under the red rose bush.”

But she couldn't laugh about it. “Thank you for kidnapping me,” she said, her voice even tighter, unsteady now.

“We're back to that?” He put his arm around her.

“I need this. I'm not getting it right yet. You're being…so patient. But I need it so much.” She stopped and pressed her lips together. Could she tell him? A part of her wanted to hold it back. Because what would he think if he knew? But then the words just came. “I'm afraid I'll never get it right.”

“Get it right?”

“The love. Loving her. Being her mom.” She was crying now. “It was a bad start. But that shouldn't matter. Other mothers have bad starts. A difficult birth, or
a baby in the NICU so they don't get to hold her right away. I don't know why it matters for me, what's gone wrong, why I can't feel it. Don't tell me I need professional help. I have a ton of that with the rehab, and it's great, Trish and Lesley are both amazing, but I don't need any more of it. I just couldn't bear to have a therapist teach me how to be a mom, no matter how sensitive and skilful and well-meant.”

“Hey… Hey…” He half turned her to him and she buried her face against his shoulder so he wouldn't see just how much she was crying.

Oh, who was she kidding? He didn't need to see. He could feel.

Her shoulders were shaking and she couldn't make them stop. For a long time she just let herself cry about everything in the whole world. About the accident and Dev's suffering that night and the birth. About the struggle with her body and brain. About Mom and Dad and Elin and Lisa and Maddy caring so much but understanding so little. About Dev putting his high-flying career in New York on hold, whether temporary or permanent, so he could be DJ's dad.

Oh, and why not just throw in war and the environment and a few natural disasters at the same time, and cry about those, too? She couldn't remember when she'd cried this hard.

Finally she spoke again. “I love her.” DJ made the third side of their triangle. She'd gone quiet now, against Dev's chest. “I must. I do.” Those little legs had stopped jiggling. “But I can't feel it. That's the most awful thing, Dev, such a terrible thing.” Of course Dev talked to DJ like a grown-up, because those big, swimmy eyes of hers seemed to be taking in every horrible word Jodie
spoke, every sobbing gasp of breath. “You must hate me right now.”

Both of you.