Resurrection
Page 19
Just not by him.
* * *
“I’d forgotten how small infants are.” Kayla unstrapped Grace from her car seat and picked her up, supporting her neck with one hand. “Welcome, Grace. Welcome to your new home.”
Lily glanced anxiously toward the house. “The party guests?”
“Gone. My husband, Dimity, and Seth played the Pied Piper scam. Follow us to a hip bar. Jared texted a few minutes ago to say they’ve broken free and are on their way home.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Lily said.
“Is Moss okay?”
Recalling his shell-shocked expression, her throat tightened. She shook her head. “He’s devastated.”
“Are you okay?”
She had been, but her friend’s warm concern broke through her stoicism. “I don’t know Jess, but packing up Grace’s stuff…” Her voice cracked. “She loves her baby so much and Moss is so angry and lost. It’s breaking my heart.”
Kayla put a free arm around her. “You did good.”
Lily rested her forehead on her friend’s shoulder. “I bring a baby home and you end up mothering me. Thank you, I’m okay now.” She straightened to see the kids running down the path toward them.
“It doesn’t have to be the end for you and Moss,” Kayla said seriously.
“What?” She was stunned. “No, you’ve got it wrong, we’ve never—”
Maddie reached them and tugged on her mother’s red dress. “Mom, I wanna see.” Kayla bent to show her the baby. “Can I hold it?”
“Let’s get her inside first.”
“We’ve never,” Lily repeated firmly.
“Okay,” Kayla said, in that ‘we’ll see’ tone she used on the kids, and headed to the house with Grace.
“Where’d you get it?” Maddie asked, grabbing Lily’s hand as they followed.
Uh-oh. She stuck with the truth. “I’m looking after Grace for a friend.” There was a lot to talk about, but not in front of the kids. Maddie had a big mouth. “Hear that, Kayla?” she called.
“A friend,” Kayla said over her shoulder. “Got it.”
Rocco, who’d stopped to play with the pebbles between the pavers, caught sight of his mother with another baby and clamored to be picked up.
Passing Grace to Lily, Kayla hoisted her jealous toddler into her arms. “Hard to believe you were once that small, you bruiser.”
But once inside, he and Maddie quickly lost interest.
“I asked Jared to stop by our place and pick up the Porta-Cot,” Kayla said. “It will do until Moss gets a chance to reassemble Grace’s.” She glanced toward the kids, who were opening and closing kitchen cupboards and drawers, and added quietly, “He’s in for a steep learning curve, isn’t he?”
Lily was about to reply when the others walked in the door. Dimity carried the dog, who immediately absorbed the children’s attention. Seth confiscated Grace, and Jared assembled the Porta-Cot.
Dimity took one look at the baby and kept her distance. “I thought I was making progress with my phobia, but she’s way too small and helpless. Hi Grace, I’m just going to wave hello from here and try and free your daddy’s schedule so he can spend time with you.” To Lily she added, “It’s not looking good in the short term.”
When Grace had been put to bed in Lily’s room—she made a mental note to buy a baby monitor so the little girl could have a nursery—the adults settled around the dining table, their mood somber, and ate canapés left over from the party. Every one of them had a whisky.
“I still can’t believe it,” Jared admitted, nursing his glass, “so I can only imagine what Moss is going through. Have you heard from him?”
Lily nodded. “He texted while I was driving home to say he’ll be late at the hospital and not to wait up.”
“The media will go apeshit over this,” Dimity said. “But I don’t see what we can do about that.”
“I do.” Lily piled canapés on her plate. Her last meal had been breakfast and she needed to keep up her strength. Apparently, Grace woke multiple times a night. “I’m established in the household, invisible. Grace can be invisible with me.” The press were not going to do to Moss and Grace what they’d done to her. “I stop driving Moss, I don’t go out in public with any of you for the time being. Outside this property, Grace and I are our own unit.”
“That would work,” Kayla said. “But you don’t need to ditch me and the kids. If anything, we can spend more time together. You’re another of my mommy friends.”
Everyone looked at the master strategist. If there was a hole in this, Dimity would find it.
“Who knows you as Seth’s cousin?” she demanded.
“No one I’ll see again if I’m not driving Moss.” Rhonda, his hook-up, Bob the diner manager, Toby the asshole paparazzi who’d dismissed her as a nobody.
“What about the party guests?” said Jared.
“Never got beyond, ‘Hi, I’m Lily.’” Hiding out in the kitchen had paid off in an unexpected way.
Dimity looked thoughtful. “The downside of secrecy is that we’ll have no excuse to cut down on Moss’s launch commitments.”
They were silent.
“It’s a trade-off,” Lily said finally, “but it’s more important he gets to know his daughter away from the public.”
“And we’re all here to help,” Kayla reminded her. “He doesn’t have to do this alone.”
Across the table, Lily met Seth’s eyes and knew they were thinking the same thing. Their willingness to help wasn’t the issue. The real question was, would Moss let them?
Chapter Nineteen
It was three a.m. when Moss paid the taxi driver at the top of the driveway. When the taillights disappeared he walked the half mile to the house, using his cell light as illumination.
All he wanted to do was find a bottle of liquor and burn away the chill in his gut. The exterior lights flicked on as he neared, silhouetting the cacti against the curved concrete. This place had never been a home, but it had been a refuge of sorts, his sanctuary. No longer.
Somewhere behind these walls, a small human slept. His small human.
His emotions were still careering all over the place, but in the past hour he’d made a decision on Grace’s future, and was at least steering clear of wild panic.
He had a plan now, and it settled cold, implacable, and reassuring in his bones.
Pulling off his boots at the door, he padded to the kitchen in socks. The backsplash was backlit, and a lamp glowed in the adjacent living room, but to his relief no one was waiting up for him. He was in no mood for questions. Quietly, he opened the liquor cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Glenfiddich and a crystal tumbler.
“I’ll have one, too,” Seth said from the living room.
“Fuck.” Moss nearly dropped the glass. “Give me a heart attack why don’t you.” His bandmate was reclining on the couch in semi-darkness. Uncapping the bottle, he poured two drinks, filling his own to halfway.
As he carried the tumblers over, Seth carefully raised himself to a sitting position. The drummer was holding Grace in the crook of his arm, and a bottle in his free hand.
Moss froze. “Why is she up?”
“Babies this young need night feeds.” Seth adjusted the angle of the bottle. “I told Lily I’d do this shift. You get tonight off.”
“Why are you really up?”
The other man gave him a level look. “Because I’m your friend.”
For some crazy reason his eyes got wet; he gulped his liquor and attributed it to the smoky burn of alcohol.
The baby was sucking rhythmically on the bottle. As Moss placed Seth’s glass on the side table she tracked the movement to his face, her blue-gray eyes drowsy and unfocused. He still felt as if he was looking at someone else’s child.
“Have you held her yet?” Seth asked.
“No.”
“Would you like to?”
“Not tonight.” His daughter, who was supremely oblivious to the fact she ter
rified him.
“Fair enough.” In the dim light his friend’s dark-blue eyes were impossible to read but his tone held no judgment.
Moss took a seat opposite and nursed his drink, watching his bandmate tend to Grace. “I should’ve known you’d be a natural.” This was the kind of father she needed. Open-hearted. Fearlessly loving.
“I’ve had a lot of practice,” Seth reminded him. A picture of his baby niece was his screensaver, and when Kayla and Jared visited with the kids, Rocco made a beeline for the drummer.
Jesus, we launched an album today. “I’ll do whatever I can to minimize the impact on the band.”
“Forget that, it’s sorted. How are you doing?”
He drained his glass. “Jess died an hour ago.” She’d asked to see Grace and he’d put her off. Something else to regret.
Seth took a moment to respond. “Mate, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged, but it was a poor effort. “I hardly knew her and she would have kept Grace’s existence a secret if she could.” But he was paying lip service to his anger now and they both knew it.
“Mate.” Seth waited until he looked up. “I’m sorry.”
A lump in his throat, Moss reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a silver chain with a heart locket. “This will be Grace’s when she’s grown.” Rest in peace, Jess, she’ll be okay. I swear to it.
“Jesus,” Seth said raggedly. “You’re breaking my heart.” His big hand cupping the baby’s head protectively, he kissed her forehead gently.
It should have been touching but Moss had reached emotional overload and had no feelings left. He went and poured himself another whisky. “I’m not the right person to raise her,” he said bluntly. “As soon as I can, I’m starting the adoption process.”
“A few hours after you’ve discovered you’re a father isn’t the time to talk about giving her up.” Unwittingly, Seth echoed the hospital’s chaplain. “You’re not the hopeless case you think you are.”
“You sure about that?” He might not remember much of his mother but he knew what a family should look like. Lily at the airport crouched in front of a child. Seth soothing a baby who carried Moss’s DNA. Jared with Maddie on his shoulders, and Kayla trying to keep a stern face while she told their toddler not to drink out of the dog bowl. I could screw up this little person’s whole life.
“Yes,” said Seth emphatically, “I’m sure.” The baby whimpered at his vehemence and he murmured words of nonsense to settle her.
Of course Seth wouldn’t understand. He’d been raised right—nurture and nature had combined to make him one of the best men Moss knew. “Okay.” He changed strategy. “Let’s keep this between ourselves until I’ve had more time to think.”
He had no intention of changing his mind. Or taking that time. Grace had lost her mother tonight and she needed settling with a good family before she got too attached to Lily. Because Lily was so very, very easy to get attached to.
She’s going to hate you for this. Regret was a bone-deep ache and yet, for the first time since discovering he was a father, Moss felt at peace. There was one thing he could give his daughter that no one else could.
The perfect family.
* * *
It was a week before Lily considered asking Moss to spend more time with his daughter, because the album’s immediate success had meant there was so little time he could spend with her.
Within days of its release, industry forecasters were predicting a top five ranking on the Billboard 200 album chart. Requests for interviews and appearances doubled, tour venues needed to be reconsidered for size, and second concerts scheduled. Dimity started using smiley emoticons in her update texts. Upward of 60,000 album units sold!
“The way you’re counting down to the official chart release you remind me of a kid with an advent calendar,” Lily teased her over the phone.
“If it wasn’t blasphemous I’d liken it to a second coming,” Dimity admitted. The band had returned from doing the Tonight Show in New York two days earlier but as their manager she was staying on to work some East Coast deals and visit her mother. “So, how’s Moss doing with Grace?”
“Still more of an observer than a participant,” Lily admitted. But she’d expected him to approach a relationship with his daughter slowly and cautiously. Putting her cell on speaker phone, she placed it on the kitchen counter and squirted a drop of baby formula on her wrist to test the temperature. Too hot. She held the bottle under the faucet to speed up the cooling. “He’ll come around.”
Grace’s squawk from the car seat on the kitchen floor suggested she wasn’t buying it. Lily rocked the seat with her foot and the baby settled. Jess hadn’t wanted a funeral, nor her estranged family notified. Moss had paid for her requested cremation and—in accordance with her wishes—shipped her ashes to an old schoolfriend in Seattle who’d scattered them in Elliott Bay. One day Lily hoped Moss would take his daughter there.
“I’m rearranging his schedule where I can,” Dimity said, “but we really need to ride the wave while we’re getting this amazing publicity. At least he has today and the weekend free.”
“Today’s already half over.” Lily shook the bottle to mix the formula. “It’s eleven-thirty a.m. in California.”
“You’re frustrated.”
“Sleep-deprived. Grace isn’t sleeping.” The baby had caught Paula’s flu, and while she’d recovered well, she’d become stubbornly nocturnal. It figures that she takes after her daddy in the one respect I’m least suited to deal with.
Moss had put himself in quarantine to protect his vocals, decamping to Zander’s mansion for two nights before the band flew to New York for their talk show performance. But he’d phoned twice a day to check on Grace’s health, raising Lily’s hopes that he was ready to engage with his daughter. Hopes that had strengthened when he returned from New York and thrust Winnie the Pooh at her, saying, “For Grace.” They’d barely seen him since.
“There are a few days that aren’t critical next week. I can make up an illness for him if you like.”
Turning off the faucet, Lily wiped the bottle dry on a dish towel. “Tempting, but I’d rather he came around in his own time. And there have been positive signs—the home visit with the case worker, Janelle, went well.” Moss had said all the right things in terms of wanting the best for his infant daughter and Lily had covered for him when he drew a blank on Grace’s daily routine. “He even took Janelle aside for a private conversation.”
It had hurt a little to be excluded, but it was only natural that his wariness around Grace would extend to Lily, as the baby’s caregiver.
“Is the case worker young and attractive?”
“You’re such a cynic.”
“We suffer less disappointment than optimists.”
She had a point. Grace started to fret again. “I gotta go, our girl needs feeding.”
“Kiss her for me.”
“One day you’ll have to do that yourself, you know.”
“I’m inching closer. Did she like the bear I sent home with Moss?”
Dimity sent it? Grace was really howling now. “Loves it,” Lily said. “Later.”
The baby calmed as soon as she latched onto her bottle, staring at Lily with wide, solemn eyes.
“Yeah, I’m bothered about the bear thing too,” Lily admitted. Walking to one of the living room couches, she settled them both comfortably. “We shouldn’t have assumed it was from your daddy.”
Mentally she respooled through the past week, trying to pinpoint the reason for her uneasiness. When he had been around Moss had helped out—heating bottles, making Lily coffee and snacks, clearing baby debris—but she couldn’t recall him holding his daughter longer than a minute before he passed her on. Why didn’t I notice this before? Too tired, too busy, too hopeful.
I’ve been had.
Moss finally emerged from his room as Grace was finishing her bottle.
“Hey,” he said brightly, barely sparing his daughter a glance.
“How is everyone this morning?” He headed into the kitchen where he opened the fridge and removed a jug of iced water.
“I think you’ll find it’s nearly afternoon,” she said pleasantly. The cab hadn’t dropped him home last night until two. She knew that because she’d just resettled the baby in her nursery and fallen into bed.
He glanced at the oven clock. “Shit, I overslept.”
“Nice for some.”
He gauged her mood as he shut the fridge door and she tried to look sunny and nonjudgmental. Confrontation would only make him defensive.
“She kept you up again?”
“Five times last night.” There was nothing remotely sexual about the comment but the moment it was out there it became so. For a fraction of a second their gazes held, then they both looked away. “It would be great if you could take the night shift tonight.” She threw in some guilt, because hell, it had always worked for Dee Dee. “And I could do with some sleep.”
Moss turned his back, opened the cupboard and found a glass. “If you need extra help we can hire someone.”
So there’s two people between you and caring for your daughter? No. Aloud she said, “I’m sure you and I can manage, with your schedule easing.”
Immediately he was wary. “What makes you say that?”
She wasn’t going to squeal on Dimity. “It’s after midday and you’re still here.”
“Oh. Right.”
He drank three glasses of water. Hungover, she thought. Which meant he hadn’t done an informal patrol. He never drank much if he was walking the streets.
The bottle was empty. She smiled at Grace and said, “Good girl, you’ve got your appetite back…want to go to Daddy?”
Because she was watching him closely she saw Moss’s shoulders stiffen, but when he spoke his tone was casual. “I was going to make you coffee, you look like you need it.”
“I’ll do it.” She rose as she spoke. “You can burp your daughter.”
He took the baby without comment, holding her against his shoulder and supporting her back. Had he ever made eye contact with Grace or talked to her? Lily was too tired to remember.