Daddy in the Making

by Lyn Cote

The girls were watching Beauty and the Beast on DVD in the living room. Cindy had recovered from her cold, but Mimi wasn’t up to par yet. Fretting over this, Jeannie gazed at her reflection in the small medicine cabinet mirror. She’d brushed her hair and let it fall to her waist. Her girls had insisted that’s how they wanted her to wear it tonight.

  Jeannie touched the soft cashmere of the cowl-neck sweater. Ivory made her skin look warmer or glowing…or something. She reached into the cosmetics bag on the sink and took out a pot of tinted lip gloss. She tapped her little finger into it and smoothed it over her lips. She wondered if Jake would kiss her tonight and if this time it would be on the lips.

  The thought had no sooner passed through her mind than she was aghast at herself. And then she wasn’t aghast. I want Jake to kiss me. It felt good admitting it. Her lips tingled as if in anticipation and she smoothed them with a bit more lip gloss. Then she headed out to see how the girls were doing.

  “Oh, Mom,” Cindy said, bouncing up to hug Jeannie’s waist, “you look pretty!”

  Jeannie rubbed Cindy’s back. Mimi didn’t get up from the sofa, but she reached for Jeannie, who went over and put a wrist to Mimi’s forehead. Cindy had gone back to school on Wednesday but she’d kept Mimi home the entire week. “Your fever is trying to come back, Mimi.”

  “I’ll be okay,” Mimi said, smiling. “You look so pretty, Mom. Dr. Jake is going to be happy you’re his date.”

  Jeannie’s heart buzzed with joy. Tonight would be the beginning of a new adventure. I’m going to let myself take a chance on love again.

  That little mind-messing scolding voice tried to intrude, tried to take away her anticipation, tried to drag her back to the hurt of the other times she’d tried romance. Jeannie refused to listen.

  She heard a knock at the door. “Come in!” she called out.

  Mike and Ginny hurried inside. “When will this winter give up?” The two of them dusted large wet snowflakes off their heads and shoulders.

  “Oh, Jeannie, you look so pretty!” Ginny looked up and exclaimed.

  Jeannie just smiled. “You’re pretty, too. I’ve got a large one of those take-and-bake pizzas for you to make for dinner, Ginny. And there’s microwave popcorn for snacking.”

  The phone on the kitchen wall interrupted Jeannie. Ginny and Mike waved her toward the phone and settled down to watch the DVD with the girls.

  Jeannie picked up the receiver. “Hi, this is Jeannie.”

  “Jeannie, this is Carrie.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jeannie felt as though the floor were coming up to hit her in the face. Her legs trembled. She collapsed into the nearest kitchen chair.

  “Jeannie? Are you there?”

  “I’m here.” Jeannie couldn’t think what to say. Her heart pounded and she had to blink away spots of light exploding before her eyes.

  “I know it’s a shock to hear from me. But I just couldn’t wait any longer to contact you.”

  “Where are you?” Jeannie managed to bring up the words. Where have you been for seven years?

  “In Wisconsin, nearby. I’m trying to get my life in order. I’ve only been out for a few weeks.”

  “Out?” Her sister’s words didn’t make sense.

  “Yes, out of…prison.”

  Prison—how? Each word Carrie uttered jabbed her like a fist. “But that can’t be right. The police would have told me if you were in prison. They couldn’t find you in Chicago.”

  “I wasn’t in Chicago. I was in Detroit. Oh, it’s a long story. But I was using an assumed name there, and that’s the name I went to prison with. I didn’t want you to know or anyone to ever know I’d been to prison. I didn’t want a felony to follow me or my girls around for the rest of my life. But I realized that you would need and deserved the truth.”

  Assumed name? Prison? Seven years and only three postcards? Jeannie’s mind had lost its ability to focus. Though she sat still, she felt as if she were being spun around very fast.

  “Jeannie?”

  Jeannie couldn’t speak. Dizzy, so dizzy.

  “I know this is a real shock for you. That’s why I haven’t contacted you before now. I’ve been watching you, trying to get up the courage to approach you.”

  “You were at the mall.” The words welled up on their own.

  “Yes, and I followed you home from Walmart the other day. Jeannie, I know this has really been rough on you. But I’m out now. I’m looking for a job. I’m going to get my life on the right path so I can take care of my girls. Oh, Jeannie, they’re so cute. So beautiful. I saw them at Walmart with you. I just want to be a good mom to them. I can’t thank you enough for taking care of them for me.”

  Each word hit Jeannie like a Taser. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t think.

  “But I’m ready to be their mom now,” her sister said.

  At these words, Jeannie hung up the phone. She pressed her hands flat on the table, helping the world to stop spinning.

  She looked down at her hands, pressed flat against the table top. What had just happened?

  Jake walked into the kitchen. “Jeannie?”

  She looked up at him, but didn’t speak.

  “Jeannie, we should be going now. Brooke’s expecting us.”

  She rose. “Right.”

  “You look great, but are you feeling okay?”

  “Fine. Let’s go.”

  Something was not quite right. He tried to figure out if it was him. Had she decided she didn’t want to go? “We don’t have to go tonight if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I want to go.” She led him out to the living room. Mike was building a fire in the wood stove. Ginny was playing a hand-clapping game with Cindy while Mimi watched.

  “Have a good time, Mom!” Cindy said, still concentrating on the rhythm of the game.

  “You girls be good.” Jeannie walked to the door and lifted her jacket from the coatrack.

  Jake took it from her and helped her with it. Outside he helped her into the pickup. And then he got in and drove them to Brooke’s. Jeannie said nothing, and Jake didn’t want to press her. Brooke rented a condo near the country club golf course. Snow swirled around them as they hurried from the truck to the entryway.

  Within minutes, Brooke was greeting them. “So happy you’re here.”

  Jeannie smiled.

  “Thanks for having us.” Jake looked around at the other guests. Dad and Erv Pavlek, his old high school friend who had gone to University of Wisconsin at Madison with him, had come with his wife. Another couple looked familiar. They greeted Jeannie, and Jake figured out that they knew Jeannie from her church. So far so good.

  Brooke went into the small kitchen. Jake followed Jeannie to a love seat, where they sat down. The other two couples made polite conversation, asked them questions, and Jeannie responded with brief but acceptable replies. Something about her suggested a trancelike state. Jake tried to figure out what was going on, but finally gave up.

  After a delicious dinner, everyone decided to make it an early evening. Outside the windows, snow fell hard and fast.

  Finally, only Jake, Jeannie, Brooke and Dan remained. Brooke stood behind Jeannie and made a gesture with her arms and face that clearly asked Jake: What’s wrong?

  Jake shook his head. Still, he appreciated the fact that someone else had noticed Jeannie’s preoccupation. I’m not mistaken. What could have happened?

  “Jeannie, thanks for coming,” Brooke said, taking her hand.

  “Thank you for having us,” Jeannie said as if reading a script. “The dinner was delicious.”

  “You two drive home carefully,” Brooke said as Jake followed Jeannie out the door.

  Jake waved and then helped Jeannie into the truck. “I think we misjudged Brooke at first,” he said, driving onto the main road.

  “Yes, she’s nice.”

  Jake tried a few more gambits but could not get Jeannie to do more than agree or disagree in brief sentences. Did I do something
wrong? He searched his memory for anything that might have triggered this. He came up empty. Should he ask her?

  He still hadn’t made up his mind by the time they reached the little house. He walked Jeannie through the cascading snowflakes to her door. He had hoped to kiss her good-night, but he couldn’t even think of attempting that now.

  She turned to him. “Thanks. I had a nice time.”

  Jake tried to come up with something comforting to say. “Is everything okay?”

  Jeannie nodded and then went inside and shut the door.

  As Jake drove away, he knew one thing for certain—something was not okay. What had caused Jeannie to go on autopilot for the evening?

  Jeannie woke up and tried to remember where she was. And what had awakened her.

  “Mom,” Cindy said, shaking Jeannie. “Mom, Mimi’s sick, real sick.”

  Jeannie sat up. And looking down, she realized she had gone to bed in her clothes. Daylight glowed at the window.

  “Mom, come on.” Cindy tugged her hand.

  Jeannie let Cindy lead her to the girls’ room. Mimi was gasping for breath. When she saw Jeannie, she said, “Mom, it hurts when I breathe.” Then she began gagging.

  Jeannie rushed forward, grabbed the wastebasket, and helped Mimi throw up into it. She recognized immediately that Mimi had brought up congestion. Jeannie noted traces of blood; worry zipped up her spine.

  When Mimi was able to lie back down, Jeannie wiped her mouth and face with a tissue. “Cindy, hurry, get Mimi a glass of water.”

  Jeannie didn’t have to touch Mimi’s forehead. Heat radiated from the child. Oh, Lord, what now?

  Cindy hurried, splashing water from a plastic glass of water. “I ran it till it was really cold.”

  Jeannie accepted the glass and helped Mimi drink to clean her mouth and throat. “I’m going to get you bundled up. We need to go to Urgent Care.” She turned to Cindy. “Get dressed really warm while I help Mimi dress.”

  Mimi was weak but didn’t complain of achiness. That led Jeannie to believe that she didn’t have the flu. Pneumonia? The word terrified her. As she helped Mimi put on a sweater and sweatpants over her pajamas, she heard the wind assaulting the little house. They must be getting hit with the fringes of the storm that would be pummeling Milwaukee by now.

  Finally, the girls were dressed. Jeannie had wrapped Mimi’s face with a scarf and told her to breathe only through her nose. Jeannie opened the door; wind and wet snow rushed inside, nearly bowling them over.

  Jeannie shouted, “Hold on to me, Cindy.” She swung Mimi up into her arms and bent into the wind. The snow had drifted against her door. She tried to plow through it, but the wind drove her back.

  Holding Mimi with one arm and shielding her eyes with the other, Jeannie tried to look ahead to her car. She couldn’t see it—just its outline under a mound of snow. She scanned the surrounding area and saw nothing but veils of snow, masking everything she should have been able to see but couldn’t.

  Cindy was trying to push her way through a drift, nearly as tall as she.

  “Cindy, come back. We can’t drive there.”

  “But Mimi’s sick.”

  “It’s not safe. Come back.” Jeannie led them back inside the few steps. Even the short time outside had layered them with thick wet snow. Jeannie stripped the outerwear from Mimi and propped her on the couch, wrapping her in an afghan. She and Cindy shed their sopping scarves and jackets. Snow had worked its way down into Jeannie’s boots.

  “What are we going to do?” Cindy asked, her voice trembling with fright.

  “We’ll call for help.” Jeannie went to the kitchen phone and picked up the receiver. No dial tone. She winced as if stung. She instantly tried to switch on the kitchen light. No luck. She hung up the phone and sagged against the wall. Power outage.

  She pulled herself together, rushing to her purse, which she’d dropped by the door last night. She yanked out her cell phone and groaned. She hadn’t plugged it in last night, and her battery was comatose. Think. Think. Your girls are depending on you.

  Jeannie looked around the room. A low fire must be burning in the wood stove. That would keep them warm. How long had the power been out? Not that long. Cindy had been able to run water.

  Jeannie steadied herself. Mike had stacked wood in the covered lean-to outside the back door, enough to keep them warm for a month if necessary. The well pump was powered by electricity, but she had a few gallon jugs of water set aside for just such an emergency. She had an oil lamp, matches and food. And decongestant to give Mimi. I won’t panic.

  Yesterday’s phone call niggled at the back of her mind. But then at the catastrophic pounding of her heart, she shied away from recalling her sister’s words. I have enough to contend with. I’ll think about that, later.

  Outside the kitchen door, she gathered an armful of wood, feeling the wind buffeting the lean-to, snow sifting between the cracks. But the wood was still dry. Back inside, she knelt by the wood stove. Thank you, Mike. She loaded the wood as he had taught her, added kindling, checked the draft and then lit the new fire, which thrived on the air pouring down the chimney.

  She moved Mimi away from the wood stove since a cool room was better for someone coughing and congested. She took the cast-iron kettle that sat on the wood stove, filled it with water and set it back on the stove to make hot tea with honey for Mimi. Then she poured cereal and milk for Cindy and brought it into the living room.

  With no TV or radio, the only sound came from the wind, buffeting the house and the wet snow, slapping the windowpanes. Even the kittens fell silent, hovering on the girls’ laps. Finally Jeannie spooned the warm tea into Mimi’s mouth, knowing that tea was a natural expectorant and the honey would soothe Mimi’s throat. Dear God, help me do everything right.

  Again the phone call tried to force itself to the front of her mind. A wave of panic clenched her stomach. She shook it off. No time for anything but Mimi now. Nothing bad was going to happen to her girls—if she could help it.

  The hours dragged on. The noise of the wind and snow knotted the muscles at the back of Jeannie’s neck. She read the girls story after story. And when Mimi fell asleep, Cindy sat coloring listlessly in a book near the window. But Jeannie found herself pacing and wishing she had one of those battery-operated weather radios that they were always telling people to buy. About three o’clock in the endless afternoon, Jeannie hovered over Mimi.

  Her little girl’s breathing had become more and more labored and her fever had spiked. Jeannie didn’t need to take her temperature. Mimi’s face was flushed red. She woke and could barely draw a breath without going into a coughing spasm. Little Twinkie mewed loudly as if worried, too.

  “I have to get help,” Jeannie said at last.

  “The snow’s too deep to drive,” Cindy said.

  “I can walk to Dr. Jake’s house. His father is a doctor. Mimi needs a doctor.”

  “You’ll leave us alone?” Cindy sounded afraid. “What if Mimi gets sicker? I won’t know what to do.”

  Jeannie stooped down to be at eye level. “I can dress warm and follow the fence around to the house. It’s not far, less than a half-mile. You stay with your sister. I’ll be back with help before you know it.”

  Cindy looked worried.

  “I’ll add some logs to the fire and then bundle up.” Jeannie did this, and soon she stood ready to open the door. “While I’m gone, watch your sister. Help her.”

  “I will, Mom.” Cindy rushed to Jeannie and hugged her waist. “I’ll take care of Mimi. Come back soon.”

  “I will. Just stay inside where it’s warm. Don’t go outside—no matter what. You must be brave and keep watch over your sister.”

  Cindy nodded solemnly and moved to stand by Mimi as if taking up her post. Both of them gazed at her; worry strained their expressions.

  Reluctant to leave them, Jeannie forced herself to open the door. Wind gushed inside and wet snow slapped her face. She bent into the wind, pushing herself outs
ide. Navigating the snow-drifts, she headed toward the fence she could barely see. Finally, she gripped the first post of the fence that bordered Jake’s property on the roadside. She was already panting.

  The memory of Mimi’s flushed face and labored breathing made her push on. Snow swirled around her, and soon she couldn’t see the little house or even the road, only a few feet away. Though she’d tied her hood tight and wrapped the lower half of her face with her scarf, snow still covered her face. She had to keep wiping the snowflakes from her eyelashes. Only the fence kept her on course. She paused to catch her breath.

  The snow surrounded her in its white muffled folds. She gasped for breath and cold filled her lungs. Stark terror splashed through her. She clung to the fence post. Wave after wave of fear crashed over her, more than warranted.

  What’s happening to me?

  The image in her mind yanked her back years and years. Her mother was lying unconscious on the floor of the bedroom. Mama, don’t die. Please don’t die. I have to get help.

  She shuddered sharply. And then she snapped back to the present, clinging to the post, still terrified. Jeannie realized she’d viewed the scene from the past as if it were right in front of her, here and now.

  But it’s not here and now. Mimi is here and now, and she needs me. She pushed the bad memory away and ventured forward, keeping one mitten gripping the fence wire loosely, maintaining constant contact with her guide. Within, she trembled from the force of strong emotion. Outwardly she shivered from the cold, the penetrating cold.

  She began to count the fence posts one by one—ten, eleven, twelve. How many would it take to reach Jake? To get to help?

  At last, she reached the corner post and turned. Not much farther and she’d come to their drive. A strong gust knocked her from her feet. She flailed in the snow as if drowning. She gasped, rolled over and regained her feet. She wrapped her arms around the fence post again and wiped the snow from her face, gasping.

  She struggled on, and then the fence ended. She had made it to Jake’s drive. She looked backward but couldn’t see the road. How could she make sure not to miss the house, not to get lost in the snow?