Sleep Like a Baby

by Charlaine Harris

  I wiggled down in the bed, listening to Sophie’s regular breathing over the baby monitor. I checked the clock. Phillip should be home in an hour, give or take a few minutes.

  I didn’t exactly go to sleep, but I lay curled up in a stupor, rising in and out of awareness. When I hit my next upswing, I had yet another surprise. My friend Angel Youngblood was standing by the bed. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

  “Phillip let me in,” Angel said.

  “Good.” I struggled to rouse myself.

  “I heard you were sick. So I brought some soup and some bread.”

  “Oh, thank you. That’s so nice! I’m really beholden.”

  “Bullshit. Like you didn’t have a baby shower for me when I was expecting Lorna. Like you didn’t bring three meals’ worth of food to the house after I brought her home.”

  I didn’t know what to say. That was what anyone would do. I was Angel’s friend. Besides, this relationship ran two ways. I could have one-upped her by reminding her how she and her husband, Shelby, had done everything for me when I’d had to get Martin’s body back to Lawrenceton, and people had been coming into town for the funeral, and my life had been chaos.

  “Angel, I love you,” I said.

  She smiled, a fleeting grin that made me happy, too. “I’m going to have a word with Phillip before I go home. Shelby’s watching Lorna. She’s a terror. Got him wrapped around her finger. Good-bye. Get better.” And she was gone, as abruptly as she’d appeared.

  I heard her talking to Phillip. Angel was saying, “You make sure she takes some Tylenol every four hours.” But I drifted off to sleep again.

  Angel had put the fear of God into Phillip, who brought me a bowl of tomato soup and some crackers about thirty minutes later. They were on a bed tray, which I barely remembered having. “Sophie’s in her swing,” he said. “She’s fine. Virginia should be here in an hour or less.”

  I made myself scooch up against the headboard so the tray could span my lap. The soup was redolent of red peppers and basil, and it tasted wonderful. This was the first food I’d enjoyed in what seemed like forever. I couldn’t complete the bowl (or eat the crackers), but I felt better after I got something in my stomach.

  Phillip even remembered to come back and get the tray without any prompting. I wondered what Angel had said to him; not that Phillip wasn’t ordinarily thoughtful, but this evening he was extra careful with everything he did for me.

  Whatever she’d told him, I liked the result.

  Chapter Four

  Virginia was right on time. I guess I was so miserable I thought I’d cornered the market, but I found out very quickly that I had been wrong. My babysitter/house help was in a sour mood. Though she was dressed in her usual exercise chic, her scowling face didn’t match. Clearly, something had riled her: but just as clearly, she didn’t want to talk about it. With no pleasantries and without uttering a single extra word, Virginia determined that Sophie did not need a bath, that she would want to be fed pretty soon, and that I had decided to live.

  As I answered her questions, I never saw even the slightest smile. But that’s not a job requirement, I reminded myself. She took excellent care of Sophie; that was the important thing. Despite Virginia’s blend of unhappiness and anger, I felt a profound relief now that I had competent backup on-site.

  Phillip drifted into my room an hour later. It was apparent he had showered and changed into a newer pair of jeans and a nicer shirt. It was also apparent he had something to tell me.

  “Sarah’s coming over tonight, remember?” He looked down at me doubtfully. “Is it okay if she comes in to say hello? She really likes you.”

  I thought there was a subtext here. Then I realized I must look like hell, and Phillip was hoping I would brush my hair (at least). “I showered,” I protested. “But maybe I forgot to brush my hair while it dried.” My hair had a mind of its own, and managed to be both curly and wavy. “Okay, I’ll try to get neater. Sarah can stand in the doorway to speak. Bring me my brush.”

  Phillip looked relieved, and fetched it from the bathroom. “Okay, Sis.”

  “I’ll be glad to see her,” I lied. I felt marginally more human, but that wasn’t going to last. Despite the Tylenol, my fever would go up. I could still feel it lurking, ready to pounce. And I’d used a whole box of Kleenex. After Phillip brought me a new one, he wandered away. I refluffed my pillows and lay back, enjoying a moment of comfort and content.

  Inevitably, I thought about Robin. By now, he’d be at the cocktail hour before the banquet. It seemed unworthy to pray that he won, so I compromised by praying for his happiness. Surely that was okay? Then I discovered I had to look in a mirror to brush my hair. I made a trembly trip to the bathroom.

  After I crawled back into bed, grateful to pull the covers up around me, I decided to read. But it was no good. No matter how many times I read a page, I couldn’t retain the sense of it. With regret, I laid my book down and reached for the remote. I watched a couple look for a house in Guatemala, I watched Jeremy Wade try to land a giant killer fish, and I stared at a few minutes of an old sitcom. I was thinking about turning off the television and burrowing down in the bed when Virginia knocked perfunctorily on the doorframe. I smiled in what I hoped was a welcoming way, and she took a step in.

  “Did you get up and clean your kitchen today?” she said, with stern disapproval.

  “No, a friend came in,” I said, wondering if it had been Emily or Angel who’d been so thoughtful. If I’d had the energy, I would have been a little piqued by Virginia’s attitude.

  “Because I would have done it. You don’t need to be wasting your energy on something like that.”

  “I don’t think I’ve actually been in the kitchen for a couple of days,” I said, as mildly as I could. The realization was an unpleasant surprise.

  “Those roses? They’re looking like they’re on their last legs.” She’d taken it down a notch, herself.

  “I’d forgotten all about them.” It seemed like a month ago I’d found them on the doorstep. “Pitch them, please. By the way, Phillip’s friend is coming over tonight.” I assured Virginia she was welcome to go in and out of the living room/kitchen area as frequently as she liked while Phillip and Sarah watched the movie. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Phillip; and after all, to a great extent, his dating life was his business. But at least while they were under my roof, I didn’t want the two to get overwhelmed by a surge of teenage lust.

  Then I felt terrible for even thinking of such a scenario. It showed a lack of reliance in Phillip’s judgment, to say nothing of Sarah’s.

  But Virginia was smiling. Her face came to life. I felt I was seeing the real woman.

  “I’ll make sure to walk through every ten minutes or so,” she said, and I felt reassured. And guilty. She was harder to get to know than most people.

  I wondered if I was spoiled; most people warmed to me quickly. It was the first time I’d ever thought about it. But I didn’t think about it long. I thought about sleep, and Tylenol, and Robin’s big evening.

  In a few minutes, it was time to feed the bottomless pit, otherwise known as Sophie. It was comforting to hold her, now I was secure in the knowledge that I could pass her off to Virginia right afterward and be sure Sophie my baby would be well taken care of.

  I heard Sarah arrive right on time. Because she had good manners, and maybe because Phillip had glanced in to see I’d upped my game with the grooming, she came back to say hello. I’d been impressed with Sarah every time I’d talked to her, and tonight was no exception.

  Sarah seemed sensible, smart, and articulate (on the character end), and on the physical end I thought she was very attractive, with a big smile, lots of curly hair, and caramel skin.

  “I hope you don’t get scared around babies,” I said.

  “I have two little brothers. I’m baby-proof.” She grinned at me. “I hope you feel better. Phillip told me not to get close.”

  Phillip called, “Sarah, the movie
is ready,” from the living room. She gave me a little wave and vanished. I snuggled down in the bed, trying to persuade myself I felt better. But I felt hot again. It was good enough to simply lie there and feel no necessity to make a decision or make myself rally. I could hear the movie beginning, but the sound was distant enough not to bother me. Closer, I could hear Virginia talking to Sophie, who’d evidently decided to have a play period. Virginia began singing in a pretty soprano. I recognized the tune of a familiar hymn. Sophie must be enthralled; my own singing was pretty dreadful.

  I lived my life at one remove that evening. I didn’t sleep, but I was in a waking trance. From time to time, I could hear Phillip or Sarah laugh. The movie was funny; their date was going well. I roused myself a little when Virginia brought in Sophie about ten o’clock. As I fed her, I heard Virginia’s voice again, but not raised in song. She was having a long conversation on her cell phone, and it was not a happy one. Again.

  Obviously, something was wrong in Virginia’s life. Should I ask her about it? I decided not to. Because (a) it wasn’t any of my business, and (b) she’d shown no inclination to become my buddy, so she wouldn’t appreciate me trying to dig into her troubles.

  I glanced at the clock as I switched Sophie to the other side, prodding my slow brain into calculating what Robin was doing now, in the central time zone. I had dimly noted when the banquet started. I figured the awards ceremony would begin maybe an hour and half later. There were at least eight awards to be handed out, if I remembered correctly. Best Novel was the last category, of course.

  After Virginia had come in to get Sophie, maintaining a tight-lipped silence, I struggled to stay awake. My eyelids closed without my volition. I jumped when my cell phone rang. “Robin?” I said, full of hope.

  “I won!” Robin yelled. “Roe, I won!”

  Faintly, I could hear the sound of many voices.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. You really deserve it. Where are you?” I began crying from sheer relief and weakness as I tried to shake the cobwebs from my head.

  “I’m in the men’s room,” Robin said.

  That was unexpected. “Is this a trend?”

  “It’s the quietest place I could find. I can’t believe it!” Suddenly he went quiet and reflective. “I never thought Panel of Experts would win. After all, Lee had a book. And Sara. And Tim Hallinan.” All three were writers Robin held in esteem.

  “This is huge. I bet Harry was ecstatic.” Harry Holderman, who’d become Robin’s agent five years ago, had proved to be a powerhouse in Robin’s career.

  “You should have seen his face!” Robin was back to exclamation points.

  “Was Jill just as excited?” Jill had been Robin’s editor for his past three books.

  “She called her boss as soon as we heard.”

  “I could not be more thrilled,” I told him, trying very hard to sound it. “You earned that Anthony. But I’ll bet a lot of people are waiting for you, honey. You need to go do a victory lap around the bar. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” Thank God.

  “Are you all right? Your voice sounds kind of scratchy. How’s the cold?” Robin no longer sounded excited, but anxious.

  “I’m fine, Sophie’s fine, Phillip’s fine,” I said, lightly, doing my best to sound hale and hearty. “Safe trip home! And congratulations again, from the bottom of my heart. It couldn’t have gone to anyone else.”

  “I love you,” Robin said, suddenly and forcefully.

  “I love you, too.” I was so happy for him. After I ended the call, I wondered if it was time to take some more Tylenol, but when I figured up the hours, it wasn’t. I slid down in the bed, the covers pulled up to my chin.

  If Sarah came to tell me good-bye, I didn’t know it. If Virginia came in to check on me, I didn’t hear her. Now that I’d talked to Robin, and rejoiced for him, there was no reason for me to stay awake. I was so relieved to let go of the nagging worry that he might be disappointed. I got to relax in the knowledge Robin had gotten the reward he deserved.

  I reached up to switch off my lamp. Descending immediately into crazy fever dreams, I woke just long enough to realize I was sweating. But the dreams pulled me under again.

  Chapter Five

  A baby was crying, but that must be another fiction of my fevered mind. When the crying continued, an alarm bell went off inside my head. I had to wake up.

  I surfaced, gasping. Something was very wrong. Sophie was crying, for real, and she was very upset.

  Why hadn’t Virginia brought her in to me, if Sophie was hungry? That was why Virginia was here. How could she sleep through Sophie’s piercing wails? I was really angry, almost as angry as Sophie. Weirdly, it sounded as though there were two Sophies.

  Disoriented and upset, I managed to sit up. I was hearing Sophie cry in stereo. The baby monitor was on my bed table. That made no sense, either. Virginia should have it with her.

  I didn’t hear Phillip stirring—but in his deepest sleep, a tornado could touch down in the front yard, and he wouldn’t know about it.

  I struggled to throw off the covers and swing my legs out of the bed. A nasty clammy feeling overwhelmed me. My pajamas were wet with sweat. Ugh! But I couldn’t take the time to change. I put on my glasses, grabbed my robe, and stepped into my slippers. I staggered across the hall. The little turtle night-light showed me Sophie was thrashing with agitation. Her face was scrunched up and red with the force of her protests (Robin called that her demon face).

  She seemed so heavy when I lifted her out of the crib. I was alarmingly weak. I managed to get Sophie to the changing table, pull up her nightgown, and change her soaked diaper. The harder I tried to do it quickly, the more I was fumbling and slow, especially with the gloves and the mask. By the time I’d gotten her changed, Sophie had worked herself into a fury.

  “Come on, little missy, you and I are going to have a feeding session,” I whispered. As soon as I picked her up, her cries changed to hiccups. I went past the smooth fold-out bed—the covers hadn’t been turned down—to sit in the rocker in the corner. The minute I introduced Sophie to her favorite feature, she latched on like a remora.

  The abrupt silence was a blessing. You would think she hadn’t eaten in a week, I thought, and I glanced at the nursery clock. It was after 2:00 A.M. She had slept for about five hours, God bless her.

  It was the fourth time she’d stayed down five hours or more, which meant it was a welcome trend. I was the world expert on Sophie Crusoe.

  As she calmed, the shuddering breaths flattened out into a regular pattern. I relaxed, too. It felt good to make Sophie happy, and I hummed to her as she fed.

  But below that surface contentment (both mine and Sophie’s), I was wondering, Where the hell is Virginia? My eyes fell on the fold-out bed again. I couldn’t imagine why Virginia would have fallen asleep out in the living room, unless she remembered the fold-out to be really uncomfortable. Even if she hadn’t heard the baby crying with her ears, she should have had the monitor. I was surprised the Hermans and the Cohens on either side of us hadn’t heard Sophie. As if to comment on that idea, I heard a distant bark from one of the neighbor dogs.

  Why had Virginia put the monitor in my room? Had she actually left the house? But why, when it was her job to take care of Sophie all night long? I was absolutely outraged. And I was scared.

  What the hell was going on?

  When Sophie was through, I carried her in my arms when I knocked on Phillip’s door.

  “Roe?” His voice was heavy with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find Virginia.” I hadn’t switched on a light yet, and I was still talking in the lowest voice I could manage. I don’t know whom I was afraid of waking. But something was very wrong, and it was time to get all hands on deck.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding a lot more awake. “Okay. I’m coming.” After a moment, the door opened. Phillip looked at me blearily. By the tiny glow of the hall night-light, I could see that he was wearing pajama bottoms and
a T-shirt. His hair was a rumpled mess.

  “You’ve lost Virginia?” he said, as if he couldn’t get the idea through his head.

  “She’s lost herself,” I said impatiently. “I can’t find her.”

  Phillip looked a bit more alert. “Have you gone over the whole house?”

  “No. Sophie woke me up crying, and I had to take care of her.” I was jiggling her gently, and for the moment, she was content.

  “Okay,” Phillip said valiantly. “Okay.” He shook himself, trying to wake up. I could see him assume the mantle of the man of the house. Phillip walked briskly into the living room and switched on one of the lamps while I hung back a little. “No one here,” he called.

  If there had been something awful out there, I hadn’t wanted Sophie to see it. I knew that was ridiculous. If Phillip was trying to be brave, I had to try, too. We had to find out where Virginia had gone; I had been angry at the woman, but now I was frightened for her. I deposited Sophie on the playmat on the floor and ripped off the mask and gloves.

  We began to search the house, room by room.

  Phillip looked in Robin’s office. I could hear him opening the closet, which held all kinds of office supplies. I checked the hall bathroom, which was very simple. Nowhere to hide. Or be hidden.

  I opened Sophie’s closet. I glanced under her crib. I went into my own room and looked in the closets there, and scanned every inch of the bathroom. I went in Phillip’s room, since he was such a heavy sleeper it was possible Virginia could have gone in without him knowing it. But all I learned was that Phillip needed to pick up his dirty clothes.

  That was the end of that wing of the house, so I carried Sophie back to the kitchen area. I looked behind the big island, the only space I couldn’t see from the living room.

  Phillip was with me by that time. He was wide awake.