A slow smile grew across Rose’s face. She patted my shoulder. “And I’d argue that the kids have found a gem in you. Not only with art but with everything you do with them—games, stories, and essays too.”
Maddy again. “I can’t take credit for that. Combining drawing and writing worked with a young friend of mine. She went through two terrible experiences, but now she’s doing well. Really well.”
“That’s wonderful,” said Rose. “Thanks for being here.”
If Rose was happy with me, Jack was furious. I was late for an appointment with new buyers. My mother had gone home, and the couple almost walked out. My apologies spilled over, and once the buyers were involved in their selection, their frustration vanished. But it was a close call.
Jack stomped into the design center as soon as the couple had left.
“You have no slack time now, Claire. How can I make you understand? We’re going full bore with remodeling jobs, new homes, and more décor selections than ever. How can you be late? Every sale counts.”
“I’m sorry. I got caught up with the staff.”
“The staff?” He glanced toward my door, his forehead wrinkled with confusion.
“At the hospital,” I explained.
“Geez, Claire. Haven’t you had enough? Take a break. I need your full attention on the business. Last week you fell asleep at your desk before an appointment. Mary had to run back here to check on you.”
Right. I’d worked late the night before in my studio. I supposed Jack wasn’t wrong from his point of view. But his viewpoint wasn’t mine.
“This isn’t working,” I said.
A moment of silence preceded his, “Be more specific.”
“Hire someone else. My heart’s not in customer service and high-toned decorating. That’s for sure.” Not when I could be in my studio with Kayla, at the hospital with the kids, or at Macy’s, just watching her. Surreptitiously, of course.
“Tough. I’m putting in fourteen-hour days,” said Jack. “My heart’s not in all the extras we’re doing either, but it’s our job to save the company. And we will. In fact, we’re beginning to.” He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes closed. I couldn’t tell whether he was merely easing a headache or wanted to shut me out.
“When our cash flow improves,” Jack continued, “do whatever the hell you want. Do you think I like having you around these days? Your attitude weighs me down.”
He’d surprised me. “How can it? We don’t see much of each other while we’re here.”
“But you’re my wife, Claire, as well as an officer of this company, and in this critical time, you haven’t come through for us.” He paused, stared at me, “You haven’t come through for me.” His voice cracked. “Why shouldn’t I feel let down?”
Silence echoed in the room. It slammed against my ears and my heart. “I’m sorry, Jack. I just can’t help the way I’m feeling either.”
But he wasn’t listening anymore, at least not to me. Just to himself. “First Kayla, then Ian, and now you. Everyone’s disappearing.” He walked toward the door, leaving me with my mouth agape and my stomach twisted in knots.
When he reached the threshold, he turned his head. “I’m calling the support group I mentioned. Want to go? Maybe we can figure stuff out.”
Group talk was not on my itinerary, but Jack...? Jack needed help.
“I’ll get back to you on that. But you should make the appointment.”
His condescending smile was coupled with a mock salute. He knew as well as I did that he’d be attending that group alone.
Chapter 22
IAN
August, Year Two
A girl. Small but perfect. That’s what the nurse said as I stared at the baby for the first time through the nursery window. Beautiful too. But I couldn’t get past small. Five pounds, six ounces was supposedly normal. I glanced at my hands. Good for palming a basketball or swinging a hammer, but a baby?
I was covered in sweat; a vise gripped my stomach, and a million doubts raced through me quicker than sperm racing toward an egg. I’d been so sure about this decision, but maybe Colleen and I had made a mistake. No, no, not Colleen. Me. I’d made the decision. I’d talked her into keeping the baby. Because I couldn’t handle another death, another girl or boy gone to nowhere, not even one as tiny as a seed. I kept staring at...my daughter? She was here. Real. And as the reality set in, I began to smile. Grin, really. A silly, goofy grin remained on my face as a wave of pride suffused my body all the way to my fingertips. My doubts receded like the ocean at low tide.
“Hey, little girl,” I whispered. “Your daddy’s here. And he’ll take care of you and love you, and you’re going to be just fine.” Irresponsible, Mom? I think not. No regrets about this.
“Hey, new daddy.” A friendly nurse winked at me as she headed toward the secured door and pushed a series of buttons. “How’d you like to see her fingers and toes?” she asked. “She’ll need a diaper change, so just give me a minute to get inside.”
I watched her unwrap the blanket, and my little papoose became a squalling infant waving skinny arms and stick-like legs, her complexion changing from pink to rosy red. I heard her lung power through the glass.
You go, girl! She sure sounded healthy. Maybe the nurse was right, and all babies started out this small. I glanced at the other cribs. Yup. Those kids seemed the size of a football too. So, okay. I was ready to handle this. I earned a steady paycheck and could provide a home—if I could hold my make-believe family together. My mouth tightened. A family sounded like a dad’s job. But even my dad hadn’t managed to get us back to normal again.
After the nurse wrapped up the baby, I went to Colleen’s room, a semi-private, covered by insurance for a one-night stay. I walked to her bed and watched her doze, her long hair like a crimson cape around her. Restless, she kicked the sheets and moaned. I reached for her hand.
“Still hurting?”
“Hi, Bonehead. Men have no idea,” she whispered. “Even I had no idea.”
“You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
“Couldn’t feel worse. I shouldn’t have gone through with it.”
“Don’t say that. She’s beautiful, Colleen. Just like her mother.”
“You’ve seen her?”
I nodded. Colleen had wanted to be knocked out, didn’t want anything to do with natural childbirth and pain. So I’d seen the baby first while Colleen slept.
A brief knock on the door preceded the entrance of our assigned nurse. “Hey, you two. Time for Mama to meet her baby girl.”
Colleen groaned as she pushed herself higher on the bed. I tried to help adjust her pillows and turned to the nurse. “Do all women feel like Colleen after they’ve given birth?”
“Everyone’s different, but Ms. Murphy is doing just fine. She’s had stitches.”
Embarrassed, I knew my face mimicked the same rosy hue on my daughter’s face a few minutes ago. From now on, I’d keep my mouth shut about Colleen’s recovery. I’d been heading for engineering, architecture or business after high school. Medicine had never been in my playbook.
The nurse placed the baby in Colleen’s arms and studied the two together. I watched also, happy to see how carefully Colleen held her daughter and how hard she stared at her, as hard as I had earlier.
“You were right, Ian. She’s a pretty one, for sure,” the new mama finally said. And then she began to sing a lullaby in the soft, clear voice of an angel. Hush, little baby, don’t say a word...
The nurse’s mouth dropped open. I knew the feeling. Of course, I’d heard Colleen sing many times, but each time she did, she managed to grab me by the gut.
“That was church-bell beautiful,” said the nurse when Colleen had finished. “I’ll leave you guys alone now, but you can expect a social worker to come around soon with some paperwork. So, do we have a name for this baby yet?”
“We sure do,” Colleen replied. “This little gal’s name is Martina Faith Barnes, after Martina McBride and Faith H
ill, two of my favorites. I love Shania and Taylor too...but how many names can one baby have?”
I didn’t care about names as long as we didn’t name her Kayla. That would be too painful. “Let’s call her Tina for short,” I said. “But maybe we should have named her Dolly. She looks...”
“I know, I know,” Colleen interrupted with a shake of her head. “And I love Dolly Parton, but I’ve made up my mind. It’s Martina Faith.”
I didn’t see the nurse leave after that. I just focused on my daughter. Little Tina resembled a baby doll Kayla used to play with. One of those dolls that said Ma-ma when the string was pulled. Ma-ma. Ma-ma. Claire Barnes. Damn! Don’t go there.
I studied Colleen and Baby Tina. I had a new life now. A better life. I started singing a song just for myself—quietly, of course. Let freedom ring... I could almost hear the white dove singing his heart out because man, oh man, talk about a day of reckoning.
Colleen joined me and bestowed a quick smile. “See? You like Martina too! Not a bad job, but for the fact you got the message turned around.” Her brow wrinkled and shadows darkened her eyes as she looked from me to the baby. “Today’s not Independence Day for us at all. We’ve got a kid now. Cute as pie too, but we’ve lost our freedom, city boy.”
Her tears seemed about to fall, and I felt sick again. “I said I’d help you with everything. I promised fifty-fifty and more.”
“And I’m gonna hold you to it. But...” Her lids closed, and she sighed on such a mournful note that I saw a shudder run from her head to her feet. This time, I knew her pain had nothing to do with childbirth.
“Ah, Ian,” she whispered. “You just don’t know what it takes to care for a baby. And you don’t know what it takes to build a singing career. Ever watch American Idol? Even that’s a full-time gig for the contestants. And remember, I’m heading to Nashville one day soon—before I’m too old.”
My chin dropped to my chest. She’d always been truthful about that, but couldn’t her career wait awhile until we figured out how to be Tina’s parents?
Chapter 23
CLAIRE
September, Year Two
Second anniversary of Kayla’s death
Another year gone. Another year loomed. As the two-year mark drew closer, tears, tension, and zombie periods ebbed and flowed. I lost track of time. Of where I was supposed to be. Pain enveloped me again, as deep as when we first lost her. No matter what I’d heard about other people’s grief, time wasn’t healing mine.
I expected the family to show up at the cemetery today, but not together. First, it was mid-week. And second, although I hated to admit it and I was ashamed, Judy was barely speaking to me and had banned me from Macy’s.
After identifying that Levine woman six months ago in the store, I couldn’t stay away. Every other week or so, I’d find some excuse to stop in. A scarf. A cosmetic sale. I’d buy anything at all to soothe my conscience for spying. Cohen? Levine? No matter what name she used, she was the one.
Last month, I finally introduced myself to the slender brunette. I simply walked over and said, “Sarah? Sarah Levine?”
She caught my emphasis and grasped the countertop, the tips of her fingers turning white. She stared, eyes narrowing as she tried to identify me. “Y-yes. Can I help you?” Her customer service training shone through. I knew I had the advantage, and it wouldn’t be a fair fight, but Kayla hadn’t had a fair chance either.
“My name is Claire Barnes,” I said slowly. “Mother of Kayla Barnes.”
I heard her gasp, and her overall skin tone quickly matched her pale fingers. So ghostly white, I could almost see through her. She peered over my shoulders then turned in a circle. “Am I under arrest?” she whispered when she faced me again. “Are the cops incognito?”
Obviously, the shrink hadn’t helped her. Or maybe her husband had fed Jack a bunch of baloney about a doc and a rabbi. Not my concern.
“No cops...today. I just wanted to see you up close. To see the woman who killed my daughter.” I stared at her hard and gave her credit for not flinching. When a customer interrupted, Levine’s hands shook as she rang the sale.
“I’ll be back,” I said when she was done.
“Come as often as you want,” she said. “I won’t be here.”
And with that, she bent down, took her purse, and headed to Human Resources. Judy’s office. And that’s when the dirt hit the fan and where Sarah Levine managed to touch a corner of my heart.
The woman faced me in Judy’s office, her dark eyes shadowed, cheeks caved, her stricken expression for all to see. “I know you hate me,” she said. “I don’t blame you. I hate myself too. In my tradition, to save one life is the same as saving the world. So what does it mean to take one life? That I’ve destroyed the world?”
First she looked at Judy, then at me, and answered her own question. “Yes. Of course it does. I’ve destroyed the world. I can never forgive myself because I-I can’t fix it. Forgiveness for this tragedy is beyond any human being.”
At which point, Judy interrupted. “But I can fix this particular situation,” she said, pointing at me. “You, Claire, are no longer welcome in this store. Sarah is an excellent employee, and I will not tolerate your behavior toward her.”
Now I was the one taken aback. “You’re kidding,” I finally said to Judy. “I’m your sister and a loyal customer. I’ve been shopping here for years.”
She reached for the phone. “I hate to do it, Claire, but I can’t overlook this. I’m calling Security.”
“See, it’s true!” cried Sarah. “I am destroying the world!” With a jerk of her arm, she ripped the name tag from her shirt and threw it on Judy’s desk. “I don’t belong here. I don’t belong anywhere. There’s no place for people like me. I quit. Now you two can be friends again. Good-bye.”
Light on her feet and moving faster than a hummingbird’s wings, Sarah Levine disappeared. But her voice still rang in my head, her words a portrait of despair.
Judy offered to rehire her, begged her to return, but in the end was unsuccessful. Sarah’s departure didn’t affect my status, however. I was a nonentity at Macy’s—all locations.
On the second anniversary, I forced a smile at Jack and reached for the colorful wreath I’d bring to Kayla today. “Ready?” I asked, stepping toward the back door.
“Always ready to visit with my daughter.”
“Always?” We didn’t go to the cemetery together during the year. “Do you visit her sometimes on your own?” If so, he’d never mentioned it.
Jack popped one of his pills and said, “The gravesite? No.”
“It works for me. You could come.”
But he shook his head. “I don’t need a stone marker to remind me she’s gone.”
“Well, that’s true enough.” I reached for his hand. “It’s the heart that doesn’t forget, isn’t it?”
His Adam’s apple worked hard before he managed to grunt something affirmative.
We entered the car in silence and belted ourselves in. “You know what, Jack?”
“What?”
“We finally agreed on something.”
IAN
Long rays of sunlight stretched across the park-like grounds when I finally arrived to visit Kayla. I’d knocked off work an hour early—my boss had no problem with that because he liked how I took on projects. “I’m countin’ on you, college boy,” he’d say at least once or twice a week. So far, I’d never let him down, and today he repaid the favor.
I figured that early evening was the best time to show up. My folks would be gone by now, so there’d be no emotional scenes between us. I needed a break from ongoing scenes. The baby’s first month at home had been tough. Colleen had the post-partum blues. Anyway, that’s what she said, so I looked it up online, and she was probably right. She had no spark, no joy, and cried for no reason. She was just going through the motions of being Tina’s mother.
My own mom could teach her a thing or two. In the old days, she was our biggest
cheerleader, Kayla’s and mine, no matter the activity, no matter how important or small our role. She used to attend every school game we were in. When I was driving at the fifty-yard line, I could hear her from the bleachers.
Suddenly I was rubbing away tears. Damn memories. Don’t go there, Ian. You’re dealing with enough right now, and you’re doing fine.
I approached Kayla’s flower-strewn resting spot, the large stone engraved with two angels and inscribed with Kayla’s name, dates of birth and death, Beloved Daughter-Sister-Granddaughter, Rest in Peace. It was beautiful, and I had to give my mom credit.
Lost in my thoughts, it took me awhile to notice the other two visitors camouflaged by the evening’s shadows. A woman sat cross-legged on the ground maybe ten feet away, her lips moving. Was she talking to Kayla? A man stood a short distance from her, his back toward the woman. He was gazing out at the horizon. They hadn’t noticed me yet either, and I kept still because the woman looked familiar. With my second glance, I knew who she was.
“Hello,” I said softly.
She jumped to her feet, panicked, eyes wide and wild.
I put my palm up and stepped back. “It’s okay, Mrs. Levine,” I crooned. “Don’t be afraid. I thought you might come round again. Last year, you brought a wreath and wrote a nice card, didn’t you?”
She tugged at her clothes, looking like she didn’t understand a word I said, looking anywhere but at me. Then she spoke.
“I have a better plan this time.” Her hands fluttered this way and that, her fingers raking her hair. “Today’s my last visit. I won’t bother you anymore.” She tiptoed closer to me and whispered, “I’m going to see Kayla soon. I’ll take care of her.”
“What!” Now I was the one panicking. The woman was talking crazy, and what could I do? I hoped to God the guy standing there was her husband. I opened my mouth to call him, but the woman spoke first, this time at a normal volume.
“If I take care of Kayla, then everyone will feel better,” she continued, “not only me but your mama too.”
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