by Alie Garnett
“Nice, Harrison. He’s still sleeping.”
“So not missing you?”
“Who wouldn’t miss me, Harrison?” Agatha joked, not wanting to say too much, not with Sera listening and disapproving.
Without waiting for an answer, she headed out, leaving the family behind. They needed time to bond with the new arrival, and Agatha was sure Harrison wasn’t in a hurry to take the girls to school.
Back at her house, she found Chris already gone from her bed. He had made it so that she didn’t have to, even putting every extra pillow back on like she liked. All she wanted to do was crawl in and sleep the day away, but she decided to do something else instead.
Up in her studio, Agatha picked up the wooden box that was stored on the shelf where she kept her books. Opening the cedar box, she inhaled deeply and took out the envelope on top. The box contained at least six others, each as precious to her as the last.
Agatha pulled out the picture from the envelope of a baby in a highchair. Her entire face, hands, and bare chest were covered in long noodles and red spaghetti sauce. The baby was grinning and had dark black curls and brown eyes. And Chris’s crooked smile.
Running her hand over the picture, she was filled with sadness to have missed the moment it captured, just like every moment in her life she would miss. Her baby was nine months old, and Agatha had spent less than an hour with her. She had given her up to parents that would love and care for her like Agatha couldn’t at the time. The baby’s new parents sent her letter after letter, letting her know how the baby was doing.
A month later, she had sold her books, but she hadn’t known that would happen the morning Poppy had been born. That morning she had been at the lowest point in her life and had nothing to give a baby. Less than nothing. Her only job had been given to her by her sisters, and she wasn’t even any good at it. Her dream of publishing a book was so far off she had stopped believing it would even happen. She had gotten pregnant by a man who didn’t remember her eighteen months later.
Calling Chris about the baby had led her to his agent. The man had coldly told her Chris wasn’t interested in her alleged baby and that if she was serious, she would demand a paternity test. Then they would discuss how much money she wanted. Hanging up, she knew she had tried to tell him, and it was now her decision, which she had already made. She couldn’t keep the baby.
If Sera had been there, she would have forced Agatha to take the baby home, but Sera had just married Harrison days before and was on a honeymoon/family vacation with the two youngest girls. For months her head had been elsewhere and not focused on Agatha, who had turned more into her art as she ignored her body.
Lucy and Buzz at that point were the only ones at home, but they had not thought anything was wrong with their little sister. The others had been focused on settling into their married lives. It had been the right decision; she would not regret it now that her life was in order. The baby was with her loving parents, who wanted nothing more than to raise her as their own. They didn’t care what kind of a mess Agatha was; they loved Poppy anyway.
For their part, they didn’t know anything about Agatha, or they would never have named her baby Poppy, such an uplifting, fun name. Poppy would have the personality of Sera with a name like that. Nothing like Agatha.
Nine months before, she had only looked at the baby she and Chris had created. Now she was a wiggly bundle of dark hair and already had dark eyes, nothing like what she had always imagined of Jet since she had lost him. She always pictured him blond like his father. Lightly she touched the baby’s cheek in the picture and knew she was better off without Agatha. Others could give her everything she deserved in life. Agatha couldn’t give her anything but love, but love didn’t buy diapers and clothes.
Now she could buy her everything, but she was gone. Forever just a picture of a baby who was growing up somewhere in the city, completely lost to her. Her only chance to see her was a phone number, a number she had never called.
Today she needed to make sure that her baby was where she needed to be, loved like she deserved to be loved. Pulling out her phone, she called the number for a family who never wanted to hear from her.
After the call, she tucked the picture back in the envelope and put the box back where it lived, in plain sight but hidden. She headed out of the house before she lost the nerve that seeing Benjamin had caused. She needed to see her Poppy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The living room was small and cozy, with not as many toys as Agatha would have liked the baby to have. But that didn’t matter; Agatha wasn’t looking at the house or the toys.
Little hands were holding on to the coffee table as she wobbled on her feet, all smiles at her accomplishment. Two little teeth showed on her wide smile. Her hair was curly and standing on end and was as black as Agatha’s. The baby looked at Agatha with big brown eyes that Agatha knew were Christopher’s, not her own.
“You’re very good at that, Poppy.” She touched her chubby arm in wonder. Her baby was amazing.
In the kitchen, both the parents were watching her and whispering to each other. Agatha knew they were worried, but there was nothing Agatha could do. The adoption was final. Though Agatha had the ability to visit the baby with her parents’ consent. When she had called that morning Steven and Ronni had been more than willing to let her come for a visit.
When she had knocked on the door, the woman who answered had a blonde baby in her arms. Ronni had said the baby’s name was Emma, and Agatha had told her she had a sister named Emma. Since then, Ronni had remained in the kitchen with the smaller baby until her husband had come home from work.
Taking Poppy’s hand, Agatha held it so that the baby could walk away from the table, but Poppy did not trust her to not let her fall. The baby had been right to not trust her because when the chunky little legs gave out, Agatha wasn’t fast enough to catch her, and she fell onto the carpeted floor. But it was enough to make Poppy cry.
When her parents didn’t rush into the room, Agatha picked her up, holding her tight, wanting to make her better, wishing her baby never cried. Feeling the warm body against hers, she wanted to cry herself, not knowing how she was going to walk away from her today. This was exactly why she had never come before.
Poppy’s tears subsided, and Agatha continued to hold her. She would have to give her back soon but wanted to hold her forever. Agatha cradled her head with its fine, curly hair and hoped the baby was soaking up the love Agatha was giving her.
“How is it going?” her daughter’s mom asked, coming into the room.
“Good,” was all Agatha could respond to the woman who was lucky enough to raise this amazing little person.
“She must know you’re her mom.” Ronni nodded at Poppy still in her arms.
“No, you are her mom. I won’t take her away.” Agatha promised, but still held her tight.
“Steven and I have been talking, and we think that you coming to see us today is a sign,” Ronni said as the man came into the room.
Agatha stiffened. They were not going to let her see the girl again. It was their right to say no to her in the future; they only had to let her see Poppy when they wanted to, and if they didn’t want her to, there was nothing she could do. They must have felt as awkward about her being there as Agatha did, that her being there would disrupt everything in their family. Tightening her grip on the baby she just fell in love with, she wanted to cry, right there in a stranger’s living room.
“You see, Agatha, Ronni has her hands full with the two babies. We were lucky enough to get pregnant on our own and only found out after Poppy came to us.” Steven looked over to the hallway to the bedrooms.
“Emma.” Poppy’s baby sister, just like Agatha. They had that in common.
“Yes, Emma. And the doctors said that it happens that way sometimes. The pressure to have a baby is lessened when you adopt, and then you finally get pregnant. They don’t think having more will be as difficult as having her.” Ronni smile
d.
“That’s good. I’m from a large family. It was a great way to grow up,” Agatha said, still rocking her baby, hoping the couple would let her see Poppy again, just one more time.
The couple traded glances, making Agatha’s heart sink. She had only gotten to see Poppy once. It was more than she had ever thought she would want to see her, but one visit had made her realize once wasn’t enough. Agatha had even taken a few pictures on her phone so that she can look at her in the future.
“What my wife means is that we will be having more children of our own. When we adopted, we thought we would never have kids of our own. Now we have Emma and will probably have more.” Steven’s face was serious.
“What does that mean for Poppy?” Agatha couldn’t figure out what they were getting at. They loved her baby as much as she did.
“It means that we would like to back out of the adoption,” Stephen said calmly, like he wanted his chicken sent back at a restaurant. Or maybe even with less caring in his voice.
“What? You don’t love her?” Agatha demanded as she scrambled to her feet.
“We do love her, but we realize that we love our own daughter more,” Ronni said, as if that was possible.
“You don’t love her anymore? Now that you have another kid, this one is not good enough for you?” Agatha turned Poppy away from them, protecting her, not wanting her to see what was happening, even if she could hear it.
“You don’t understand you don’t have children,” Stephen said, as if Poppy wasn’t hers even if she had put her up for adoption.
“I don’t need to. I am a feeling human, one who thought my kid was in a loving home. That’s why I gave her up, so she could have a loving home.” Agatha tried to stop the tears but couldn’t.
“I have a folder containing the information your lawyer will need to get custody changed back to you.” Stephen held up the file. “We already signed everything that is needed. I’m a lawyer and had it drawn up after you called. We knew it was a sign.”
“You’re just returning her? Like a shirt you outgrew?! My kid?” Agatha stomped over and grabbed the file from him. No way was she leaving her baby with these people.
The couple exchanged looks again and Stephen got up. “I’ll get her car seat.”
By the time Agatha drove away, she had enough food for a few days and a dozen diapers. Poppy was secured in the back seat of her car, and the paperwork was on the seat beside her.
Agatha drove straight to her lawyer’s office. She hoped that Aspen was still there. If not, she would have to go to Harrison. This all needed to be done today. No way was she letting those two change their minds and take her baby again.
Walking into the office, she asked the receptionist for Aspen and was told she was busy this afternoon. Luckily, when Agatha broke down crying, Aspen was able to make time for her. In the same conference room she had bought her house on Monday, she watched Aspen and another lawyer looking over the paperwork in the file.
It was taking far longer for them to read the papers. She knew she should have looked at them, but her mind was full of other things. There was a long list of things she would need for the baby, and it was going to take a while to buy everything and then get it all organized. It was going to be a long day.
“It looks like everything that is needed is here. Sebastian’s calling Steven and Ronni Chambers to make sure everything is done correctly. But let’s get this stuff signed so when he comes back, we can just fax everything where it needs to go before the weekend.” Aspen handed over the paperwork and had Agatha sign in seven places to get her daughter back.
That was all it took—less signing that she had done for her house, and she was a mother. Again.
Now she just had to tell everyone about it. Another secret she had kept from her stepmom and sisters. And what about Chris? How was she going to tell him he was a dad?
Chapter Twenty-Three
At 3:10 p.m., Chris saw Violet sitting on the front step of Agatha’s house. The house had been quiet all day. He hadn’t seen Agatha except when she had woken him to tell him she was leaving with the girls. Now she was ten minutes late to meet Violet, and it looked like Violet had already checked around the house.
Jogging over to her, he asked, “No Agatha?”
Violet was on the verge of tears. “No, I can’t find her in the house, and her car is gone. I think she forgot me.”
“She would not forget about you. She must have got caught in traffic or something. Can I sit with you?”
“Yes. She doesn’t have cookies out.” Violet got up and walked into the house. Agatha always had cookies out for Violet when she got home from school. Just like the pop and mail, it was a ritual.
Chris wondered where Agatha could be. For the first time, he started to worry that she had been in an accident or something. No way would she miss Violet coming home from school.
“Where is Emma?” he asked.
“A friend’s house,” Violet said and rolled her eyes. “A new friend Mom thinks is a nice girl but isn’t.”
“Do you know where the cookies are?” He followed her through the kitchen.
“In the freezer. Lucy makes them for Agatha.” The girl went into the freezer and pulled out a bag of four cookies.
Both he and Violet looked at the frozen peanut butter cookies. It said “B Ratt” on the bag, making Chris chuckle, but not Violet. Lucy was the one behind the shirts.
He poked at the frozen dessert. “We’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll check the studio one more time,” Violet said and was gone. After a moment, she was back with a sad face, no Agatha up there.
Chris had no idea where a studio would be in the house, but he hadn’t been in every room yet. Agatha was still nervous that he would break her house and always kept an eye on him. He hadn’t broken anything in over a week at his house, mostly because he was not allowed to do much. Others were fixing it now, and he had to admit he was no handyman.
“Are you going to see the baby again today?” Chris asked her in hopes of making her happy. Today was the first time he had seen the little girl sad since she had complained that Nick J. had called her sparkly.
“Yes. Buzzy will pick us up and bring us to the hospital again.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
“Did you see the baby this morning?” Chris asked, knowing she had.
“Yes, and I got to hold him, but Agatha didn’t.” She opened the bag of cookies.
“Did she say where she was going today?” Chris realized he was questioning a little girl about his girlfriend. Was she his girlfriend? They hadn’t talked about it, but he wanted to, soon.
“No, she didn’t say anything.” The little girl’s eyes swept the house again, like she still couldn’t believe that Agatha wasn’t there. “Do you think she’s coming back?”
“Of course she’s coming back; she lives here. Why would she not come home? Has she ever not come home before?” he asked as she kicked the counter lightly with her toes.
“No, but she’s always here. She always works when I’m asleep or at least when Mom is here,” Violet said.
“She’ll be here tomorrow. I promise.” He hoped it was a promise he could keep because he hated that Violet was sad. “What did they name the baby?”
“Benjamin Lovely. Mom named him, like Emmaline.” She was still kicking the counter and he let her. She deserved to do what she wanted today.
“But not you?”
She grinned. “Nope, Agatha named me.”
“After a pretty flower.” He handed her another cookie.
“Nope, after the color. I’m an artist. Sometimes Agatha doesn’t see me, and she calls me ultraviolet.” She giggled.
“Agatha loves colors.” He had noticed it over the last few weeks. When she described something, it wasn’t red, it was auburn or brick or burgundy. His blue shirt had been azure, and his green shirt had been Turkish blue, not green.
“Her favorite is walnut brown. One year
for her birthday, I bought her a pencil in that color. It’s her favorite,” Violet explained.
“Do you want to watch cartoons and find the mistakes?” he asked, not knowing what else to do with her. The only thing they had in common was Agatha, and she was missing.
“Sure, until Buzz comes. Since Mom and Dad are at the hospital still, I am going to her house for the night.” She climbed off the stool.
It was a little after 5 p.m. when a redhead came in the door without knocking. Violet was off the couch and ran to her sister, yelling her name. After a quick hug, the redhead looked him over and asked, “Where’s Agatha?”
“I don’t know. I found Violet on the step at 3 p.m., and we haven’t heard from Agatha,” he said.
“I’m Bea. Agatha doesn’t leave the house much unless she’s working, but she wouldn’t work during the day. She’s a vampire, isn’t she, Violet?”
“She is not. She goes out in the sun!” the girl argued with a giggle. It seemed like an ongoing joke.
“Chris Lowell,” he put out his hand, which she ignored.
“I know who you are. Don’t hurt her.” Her brown eyes held his.
“I won’t,” He stated.
“Agatha puts on this air that nothing touches her, and not much does. But when she gets hurt, it takes her a long time to recover. Sometimes she doesn’t. She isn’t some plaything,” Bea warned. She was no taller than her sister, but she was willing to stand up to him for her.
“She’s not,” he agreed.
With her dark eyes still on him, she pulled out her phone and pushed some buttons. Her eyes squinted as it rolled to voicemail, and Bea dialed anther number.
“Luce, have you talked to Ag today?” She turned her back on him as she spoke. “No, she wasn’t here when Violet came home. I’m picking up Violet.”
As she talked, she walked out the door, leaving him to wonder if any of her sisters knew where she was.
Without knowing what else to do, he went across the street to see what the crew had finished since he had spent the afternoon with Violet. The walls were sheetrocked and were now ready for paint, and the tile in the kitchen and bathrooms was done. All the bathrooms and kitchen were in working order. The house wasn’t going to be a masterpiece of original workmanship because he had destroyed most of that, but his contractor had told him that modern design in old houses was all the rage, so they had changed direction and started over. It would still be a nice house, just different than he had originally dreamed.