by Karen Harper
She made Nita drink water and Brit sponged her off when her pains came closer together, and she continued to sweat—but weren’t they all too hot between the humidity and stress and no air-conditioning? Both Kris and Brit took to fanning Nita with folded newspapers.
Claire tried not to look at the clock. She hadn’t slept well since Darcy was taken or at all tonight, so she was running on fumes. Finally, she cleared the bedroom but for Brit and Kris. Claire had Kris hold the biggest and brightest of the two flashlights they had here, lifted the sheet, propped up Nita’s knees on two pillows and looked at her dilation.
“What do you see?” Nita asked. “Any sign of Clarita’s head yet? Years ago, I witnessed my older sister have her first son. Ah, ah—coming, another bad one!” she cried, and tugged hard at the padded ropes Kris had strung above her head from tall chairs on both sides of the bed after insisting she’d seen a prehistoric petroglyph where an ancient woman was shown delivering a baby that way.
Nita was already exhausted, but so was Claire, relying on her narcoleptic pills that were stimulants, and downing lukewarm bottled tea for the caffeine to get herself through her emotional and physical exhaustion. She fought to keep calm and keep Nita calm, so she wasn’t letting Bronco back into this room until she had to.
“Tell me—tell me the truth about what is happening,” Nita cried. “My body is doing its own thing! Tell me—ah!”
“You’ve expelled a bit of prebaby discharge, but no head yet. Yes, I’m going to tell you exactly what I think is happening so that you can help.”
“I can help between the hits of pain. Mi amiga, what would I ever do without you? Our plans for the doctor and the hospital—aaahh! Well,” she gritted out through clenched teeth, “this how my mother had me, no doctor.”
Between the closer contractions and during a quick bathroom break, Claire gave a hug and more reassurance to Bronco, who was pacing up and down with Nick sitting farther down the hall on a chair he’d dragged out of their bedroom, sound asleep.
Claire peeked in for the second time at the girls. Lexi and Jilly must’ve been wakened by the howling wind and a fierce clap of thunder; both were in Lexi’s bed. And—this touched her deeply—it appeared they had netted several butterflies to save them from the brutal winds and brought them inside. On the top of Lexi’s dresser, they rested on a leafy branch in an old, empty aquarium with a screen across its top.
“Our Sleeping Beauty night-light went out!” Lexi cried, her little voice shaking.
“I’ll leave you this flashlight I have. I’ll put it on the dresser, see, and turn it on so it will be just like a night-light.” At least they had an extra stash of flashlights in the birthing room. She decided again not to tell them what was going on across the hall unless she had to.
Looking at the girls’ frightened faces, she couldn’t help but recall Will’s tearful expression when he had gazed at the sleeping Jilly with tears on his face. He would probably never see his beloved Darcy and her children again, but with Will, you never knew. He’d chosen to go on the run now, so did that mean he was sacrificing a life with them because he knew he could be found guilty of Larry’s death and abducting Ralston—then blinding him?
Lexi said, “Mommy, that wind is screaming, but did I hear another scream? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart, but let me explain something to both of you.”
So much for keeping these two in the dark. As Claire sat down on the edge of the bed, she saw the doll was not with them, but was on the floor, wrapped in a blanket head to foot so that even her face didn’t show. That was a small victory, a first step toward getting rid of it.
“Don’t either of you worry if you hear another scream. Nita is going to have her baby right here in this house during the storm. And sometimes, when a baby is born, it hurts the mother a little, but then she is so happy to have her baby, she forgets the pain.”
Jilly said from the other side of the bed, her voice slow and sleepy, “I hope my mommy didn’t hurt when I was born, ’cause she went through a lot when she was away last week, but she’s okay now.”
“She sure is going to be,” Claire said, kissing Lexi’s cheek, then Jilly’s. “Now, listen, you two. I am going to be with Nita so I want you to stay in here even if you hear a scream or two. Both of your dads are here—and your daddy, Jace, is just fine, too, Lexi—so you please help me by keeping calm and getting more sleep. We have a strong house to withstand the storm. Lots of people are here at the house, but tomorrow, we might just have a new baby for you to see.”
“Good,” Lexi said, “’cause I don’t want—” she lowered her voice so much that Claire could hardly hear her “—that other doll anymore. I would give it to little Clarita ’cause Nita said she’s real sorry she gave it to me, but I don’t want it spying on Clarita or Bronco or Nita, either. But when Heck was here earlier, I think he turned off her insides.”
“Then I think she is fine right where she is, all bundled up. Now, listen to me. I love both of you and Darcy does, too. If you need someone, you call for your dads, but try to get some sleep now.”
Outside their room, Claire went down the hall and, hating to do it, woke Nick. “I know you’re trying to keep an eye on Bronco,” she told him, “but make sure you occasionally look in on the girls and Trey, too.”
“Will do, captain. Didn’t mean to nod off. Claire, you okay in there? What can I do?”
“Pray and try to keep Bronco from coming in until the head at least crowns. I’ll let you know. I just don’t want something to go wrong with the delivery because I’m scared. But I’ve been scared before.”
He shook himself more awake, then stood and embraced her. “Remember,” he said, his lips in her hair, “she’s named after you, so that baby is a fighter. I’ll keep an eye on Bronco. I think he just went to get something to drink.”
As she hurried back to Nita’s bedside, Claire told herself that surely Jace’s safe landing tonight had set the precedent. Dark storm or not, more good news had to be on the horizon.
36
Claire, Brit and Kris all cooed to the new baby and cried with joy and relief while they washed Clarita in the storm-tossed early morning. Bronco, big bruiser that he was, cried when Claire put the little, black-haired, brown-eyed bundle into his shaking arms. He had only been invited into the birthing room for the last few minutes of the delivery so that Nita could focus on pushing. Despite the darkness in the house and probably devastation outside, Bronco and Nita’s joy brightened everything.
Even Lexi and Jilly got a peek at the new baby, and Claire noticed the next time she was in Lexi’s room that not only was the doll still wrapped head to toe, but it had been shoved under Lexi’s bed. So, Claire hoped, there was both light and power in a house that had neither right now.
Finally, Claire shooed the other visitors out and left the new, little family alone.
“A first baby and only about six hours of labor,” Claire told Brit. “Unbelievable. Don’t know what was wrong with me to take so long with Lexi.”
“She’s worth it,” Brit said, “and glad to hear she dumped that doll. Tough times but full steam ahead—like mother, like daughter.”
Everyone sat or stood around the kitchen table while Kris wrangled removing things from the warming refrigerator. “Perfect for a new baby celebration!” she announced. “Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cookies and soda pop, just like we’re all kids again. Or water or warmish orange juice. Nick says no adults are allowed alcoholic beverages until after lunch and then he’s going to check your IDs.”
How proud Claire was of these people, trying to carry on despite the dangers and dark parts of life. She and Nick were blessed to have such family and friends—and a new life in the other room she could hear crying. Maybe she should go back in and be sure Nita could nurse Clarita. No formula around here, but they would make do. Then the crying stopped, so maybe Nita or even Bronco had figured things out. She’d go knock on the door and look in later. And w
hat tales of her delivery they would all have to share with Clarita as she grew up.
Claire thought of Will again, driving through the storm, fleeing, but worst of all, maybe never to see his daughter and grandchildren again. Yet knowing Will, he’d be back someday, delivering a package at Darcy’s door, calling on the phone to tell Jilly or even Drew a tale about his adventures...
“Claire,” Nick said, putting his arm around her, “you’re nodding off. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Food first. I’m famished.”
As she ate PB&J, she began to feel she was on her second—maybe third or fourth—wind after being up and through so much these last twenty-four hours. She was even mostly thinking straight, and for a narcoleptic, that was pretty good.
She had to tell Steve about Will being Darcy’s father and explain all he’d done to make those who had hurt Darcy pay. Nick had only told him so far that they’d learn from Detective Jensen that the charges against him had a good chance of being completely dropped, and that Nick would look into it as soon as things returned—somewhat, at least—to normal.
When this weather stopped, they were all going to gear up to help others who did not have as strong a house. Claire nodded as everyone spoke of that. Even the new home of Bronco, Nita and Clarita would need a thorough examination, and it was possible they wouldn’t have much to go home to, anyway. But they—this family and these people, including Darcy, of course—would pull together on that.
And, above all, as soon as possible, Steve had agreed that Claire should tell Darcy about Will alone, though he and the kids—Jilly, at least, since it wouldn’t be possible for Drew to get back yet—would be waiting outside the room at the hospital. Depending on how Darcy took that news, she would either stay there for more counseling, or be able to go home—if she and Steve still had a home in decent shape, since their neighborhood was older.
* * *
After breakfast, Claire slept most of the morning and early afternoon. When she woke, she sat up in bed, alarmed. What was wrong? Something was very wrong!
Then she realized the wind no longer howled, and the rain no longer pounded on the roof. She took her meds Nick must have left next to the bed and got up to look out. Windy, but not bad. Daylight, but no sun. Two palm trees had toppled over to crush their back fence, and things looked beaten down with debris strewn and snagged almost everywhere.
“Like life,” she whispered. “Like my life, but I’ve come through, and Darcy has to come through, too.”
* * *
“Wow, what a storm!” Darcy said the minute Claire joined her in her room at the hospital late that day. “I watched a lot of it out the window. I’m scared to hear what Steve finds when he checks our house. And hopefully the airport is open again in time for Drew to come home next week. The cell towers are still down, but we’re going to explain everything to him in person when he gets back. I can’t wait to get home with all my family there. I can’t thank you enough for taking them all in during the storm!”
“Of course,” Claire said. “We missed you, though.”
“I hope so! Claire,” she said, lowering her voice and drawing her over to the couch to sit, “I think I’m ready to leave here. To try to be normal again, even if some things I can’t explain still kind of...haunt me. Dr. Spizer said you might be able to fill in some of the blanks.”
“Yes, thanks to Will Warren, who did some private detective work to learn what happened to you, who took you and why.”
“Will? Really? But how does he figure in?” she asked, reaching over and gripping Claire’s hands so tightly that Claire almost winced.
“He figures in a lot, more than I realized. You knew he was especially fond of you...”
“True—and Jilly, too, though Drew seemed not to like him. Boys!”
“Do you remember Will from our youth, before he took off for parts unknown for a while?”
“I don’t. He told me he went to Japan—research, I think—because he wanted to write about butterflies. Well, you know, that lovely book of his.”
“But before he went, after Dad deserted Mother, even before that, I think, Will came to the house with books for her.”
“You did tell me that, though can’t say I remember. Claire, just tell me. What’s all this about Will? Was he injured in the storm?”
“Okay, here’s what I’ve learned. Our father had another woman—a common-law wife, no less—he visited on his salesman travels. But Mother, too, had an extramarital affair—with Will.”
“With our mother? Meeting—in the house? But then he left? Is that when he went to Japan? Why didn’t he stay and marry her? I mean, how long were they together? I’m not following you. Could that be what made her so strange—losing two men?”
“There’s more. Will had things lined up to make a lot of money there, he told me, money he wanted to bring back and use to support her—and us. She said if he left, he didn’t care for her, but...but he did. And he has all these years.”
“Was what he did in Japan illegal? Tara told me there’s a lot of smuggling and black marketing of butterflies there.”
“Yes, some, I think, but that isn’t the big news. There was a time when he and Mother loved each other very much. They had a love child. And that child...is you.”
Darcy’s hands remained in Claire’s, but they went very still. Her eyes widened, looking past Claire, who feared what was coming next—inward retreat or an explosion.
But Darcy only heaved a huge sigh. When she blinked, tears speckled her lashes.
“Crazy as it sounds, I feel like I knew that,” she whispered, looking at Claire. “But he—he never said it. He should have. I knew he wasn’t in love with me romantically. He was so proper, yet concerned and protective—interested in my life.”
“He loved you very much—still does—and took great care to show me the place you were kept. He wanted justice, wanted to expose those who hurt you. He loved Jilly, too—and yes, said he noticed Drew didn’t take to him and that hurt.”
“So much hurt. Mother’s agoraphobia. Her reading all those books, burying herself in them, never one word about Dad’s desertion. Not a word about Will. At first, when we were young, of course not, but why not later? And he should have tried to contact her, tried again those years she was alone. But then, remember the checks she received from a great-aunt she didn’t remember every Christmas? What if...?”
“He didn’t say that, but yes. What if? He did tell me he visited her grave more than once, even released some butterflies there. Darcy, I want us to be complete sisters for always,” she said, and started to cry herself. “So forget the half-sister thing.”
They hugged hard, held on. “Tell me all he did and every word he said,” Darcy insisted. “And tell me he’s safe, that I can see him soon.”
“Let me explain from the beginning.” Claire sat back, swiping at more tears. Darcy was in for another blow, but she was here with her and they were both going home soon. “Let me just be your sister still in every way and tell you all I know. And then, how much you tell Jilly, Drew and Steve now or someday is up to you, though Steve does already know Will is your father.”
Darcy nodded. “Yes, start at the beginning. And I always knew my dear sister would be my best friend for life—forever, too.”
Epilogue
Four months later
Because the hurricane storm surge had eroded some of the beaches, and huge dredges and barges were making noisy repairs, Kris and Mitch’s wedding was held at the Naples Botanical Garden near the two-tiered waterfall.
What a lovely, relaxing sound, Claire thought as white water spilled into the small, calm lake. So much better than the shrieks of a hurricane. She and Brit, wearing peach-hued gowns and straw hats, accompanied the bride. Jace, of course, was Mitch’s best man.
Kris had insisted that even the younger children come, so Nita was tending Trey and Clarita. The dig team who worked with Kris were here, along with several of the NOAA flight crew, and the manage
r of the Marco Island Airport where Jace and Mitch were locating their new Fly Safe flight school. The love of Heck’s life, Gina, also came from Miami, and both were beaming since he had proposed and she had accepted, though that meant he’d be moving there at least until she finished med school. He’d already secured a new position with the Dade County police in their Digital Forensic Unit.
Lexi and Jilly were flower girls, beaming under their little straw hats. Claire could see Darcy and Steve from where she stood as the vows began. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together...”
Her dearly beloved were here, family and friends, including several friends the four of them—Claire, Darcy, Brit and Kris—had made volunteering with a local hurricane disaster service group. Steve had helped Bronco put a new roof on their house, and now that it was done, Claire would be sad to see the little family moving out of the Markwood home. At least Nita would still work for them and bring Clarita with her. But their not living in the extra bedroom where Clarita was born would be another wrench for Lexi, who had announced she was too old to bother with dolls now, because Clarita was like a little doll.
Claire blinked back tears when Kris and Mitch exchanged rings, said their vows, kissed and walked up the grassy aisle together. What a rocky path she and Nick had had together, but things had ultimately worked out so well. She felt herself blush at the memory of last night in bed, for their love had grown in meaning and depth since their own shotgun wedding, and months later their reception, which had literally blown up in their faces.
No rice was to be thrown in this lovely setting amid so many stunning gardens. Some foliage had been uprooted or damaged by the storm, but trees and bushes were coming back strong. There was a butterfly house here, but they had decided against a release because that meant the butterflies had to be imprisoned first. That had made Claire happy. She’d had enough of innocent creatures being taken prisoner.