Bountiful

by Sarina Bowen

  I dipped into the bag again and came up with three fall outfits for Nicole, each one more beautiful than the last. She was going to be the best-dressed toddler in Vermont. “Thank you so much,” I said for what felt like the hundredth time.

  “She’s just really excited,” Dave said, sipping from his mug.

  “We don’t have any family,” Bess said. “Except each other. So, sorry. You’re it.”

  I was just trying to get my head around that when I heard a squawk from the other room. And for some reason I leapt out of my seat at Nicole’s first sound—as if jumping to attention would advertise what an excellent parent I was. “Excuse me a second,” I said, grateful to get away for a moment from the unbearable tension.

  Sprinting into the bedroom, I looked down at Nicole’s grumpy little face. She was sprawled out on her back, her chubby legs propped up on the crib’s bars. Even though I had a fan running at low speed in here, she looked hot.

  Midday naps in July, though. What can a baby expect? “Come here, sweetie,” I whispered.

  She raised her arms but did not roll over. I leaned over the side and tugged her off the mattress, lifting her into my arms. “We have visitors,” I said quietly, moving her to the changing table. I swapped her diaper for a dry one and finger-combed her feathery hair. The color was coppery, brighter than her handsome father’s.

  The fact that he was sitting right in the living room made my stomach twist with uncertainty.

  He’d better love you, baby girl, I thought, even though it terrified me to share her. Because you’re the best there is. My baby was dazed from her nap, but she was still the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, and surely the best thing I’d made of my life. She yawned, showing a line of tiny, perfect teeth, her soft arms stretching on the changing pad.

  I lifted her again, holding her against my chest. And I paused for a moment in the privacy of the tiny bedroom, praying that our lives weren’t about to get too complicated.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dave

  I ate a mini muffin while I waited to see my daughter for the very first time.

  This morning, while Bess had been refreshing her makeup, I’d actually Googled “fifteen-month-old,” because I had no clue what size child that was. The sites I’d found had taught me that at this age, they’re still babies. But some of them can walk or say one word at a time.

  If there was a more clueless man in the world than I was, I hoped I’d never meet him.

  So there I sat, listening to my sister make small talk with Benito while I tried not to panic. After a couple of long minutes Zara emerged from the little hallway to the back of the apartment. Against her chest, she held a small person with chubby arms. The baby’s cheek lay against Zara’s shoulder, so I couldn’t see her face.

  But that hair. Suddenly I was four years old again, watching my angry mother stomp around our little shitbox of a house with baby Bess wailing in her arms.

  I fought off an honest-to-God shudder.

  Nobody seemed to notice my distress. They were all watching the baby. Zara sat down on the sofa beside her brother, her daughter settling into her lap. And Bess made a little gasp of excitement.

  “There she is,” Zara’s brother said in a low voice. “Hi, princess.”

  The baby turned slowly toward her uncle’s voice, and I saw her face for the first time. She had pink cheeks and sleepy eyes.

  The room was silent as Zara adjusted Nicole on her lap. “That’s Bess,” she said, gesturing toward my sister. “And Dave.”

  I swallowed hard, hoping nobody could sense my terror. But the baby didn’t even look in my direction.

  “And your crazy Uncle Benito, of course.”

  “Nicole!” He encouraged. “Say…Uncle Ben!”

  “Baba-ba!” The baby said. Her soft little voice made chills rise up on my arms.

  “Almost!” Zara’s brother grinned. “You could try for just Ben. I’m not picky.”

  He was making jokes, while I sat over here having an out-of-body experience. What was, after all, the proper reaction to meeting the child you never knew you had? I noticed how the width of her shoulders was about the same as the length of my hand. And that her elbows dimpled in a baby-like way.

  She was seriously cute. I wasn’t a heartless person. I was just way, way out of my depth here.

  Benito reached for his niece, taking her onto his lap, and she leaned against his chest as if he were her own personal cushion.

  Zara smiled, looking more relaxed, finally. As if watching her brother with her baby was the best thing in the world. And maybe it was. I never meant to throw a wrench into Zara’s life, but it comforted me a little bit to know she had her family around her.

  “Ben has been out of town for three months, and that’s a fifth of her life,” Zara was saying. “I’d been worried that Nicole wouldn’t remember him. But when she saw him this morning she ran over and gave him a look that basically said, ‘Where ya been, man? Let’s party.’”

  Benito put a hand on the baby’s back and patted it, as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

  “Oh, Zara,” my sister said, swallowing hard. “She’s so beautiful.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t trust myself. I’d never doubted that Zara’s baby would be beautiful. But it sure wasn’t because of me.

  My sister got up and fetched the plush dog from its spot on the floor. “Hi, Nicole,” she said, kneeling down on the rug beside the coffee table. “I’ve got someone here who wants to meet you.”

  Nicole lifted her still-sleepy face from Benito’s shoulder. When she spotted the dog she began to wiggle toward the floor.

  Ben set her down on her feet, and Nicole put one chubby hand onto the coffee table. Then she began to move, clutching the table in one hand, waddling around it toward Bess and the big stuffy.

  “Look at you! Walking like a big girl!” Bess’s eyes were shiny.

  In order to reach my sister, the baby had to pass me. And I was so trapped inside my own head, just trying to take it all in, I didn’t realize that my knees were blocking her way around the coffee table. She stopped, put a surprisingly warm little hand on my bare knee and turned to look up at me.

  When I got a look at her expression, a small bark of shocked laughter escaped from my throat. Her face was miniature, but it was all business. Outta my way, mister. And her eyes—dark brown, with an intensity that was all her mother. The familiarity stole my breath.

  I moved my knees in a hurry, and she toddled past.

  “Isn’t the likeness amazing?” My sister asked.

  “Yeah, to her mother.” I looked up to where Zara sat on the sofa. “She just gave me a…Zara glare.”

  Zara’s eyes widened. She gave me a smile that was a little less terrified than before, and I felt my chest flood with an emotion I had no name for.

  When she made her way over to Bess, Nicole sort of flung herself onto the dog, which was at least twice her size. My sister laughed, and I saw tears in her eyes. Bess put a tentative hand on the baby’s soft hair and whispered something sweet to her.

  I swear to God I’d never seen my sister fuss over a baby before. Didn’t know she liked babies. Then again, I’d never really asked her.

  And, crap, my own eyes began to feel hot.

  I took a deep inhale and let it out slowly. My baby. I tried the words out in my head for the first time. Those impossible words.

  But she was right there on the rug, her little arms squeezing the stuffy.

  Deep breaths.

  While Bess was focused on the baby, I snuck glances at Zara. I couldn’t imagine what was in her head right now. Did she even want me to meet her child? She was probably just humoring us. She’d never wanted anything to do with me outside of the bedroom. The Zara I’d known before would have kicked us out already.

  But I had to admit that this new Zara seemed different. She was tentative. Watchful. I hated to wonder if that was my fault, if I’d knocked her off her game by showing up
here again.

  Her eyes suddenly met mine, and I realized that she’d been sneaking looks at me, too. We both looked away at the same time.

  Meanwhile, Nicole was becoming more comfortable with my sister. More animated. She stood on her stubby legs and gathered the dog’s floppy midsection into her arms. Then she tried to walk with him.

  It didn’t work out so well. She stumbled twice, Bess catching her each time. Bess got closer, trying to hold the stuffy so Nicole could grip it better. And I saw Nicole raise her eyes to Bess’s, and then decide she didn’t want a stranger’s help. She looked around for her mother, wearing a suddenly cranky face.

  “Right here,” Zara said quickly.

  The baby did her little waddle—butt out, hands up—back in her mother’s direction. And when she reached Zara’s knees, she was scooped into her lap. Then Nicole grabbed the edge of Zara’s T-shirt and began to tug it upwards.

  “Um…” Zara chuckled, looking suddenly uncomfortable. She used an elbow to pin her shirt down against the baby’s attempts to lift it. “Benny? Would you grab me that afghan behind you?”

  He handed over the blanket, and I watched her drape it over Nicole’s head. The baby squawked, and I still didn’t know what was going on. Zara reached underneath the blanket, wriggling to adjust something. “We’re still nursing,” she said, which finally clued me in. “It’s probably time to wean, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

  She gave me a nervous little glance, but I sure as hell didn’t have an opinion about nursing babies. And I wouldn’t have voiced one if I had.

  Once again, Bess made small talk by asking Benito about the mill and by picking up our coffee mugs to take them over to the kitchen area.

  “I got those,” Benito said. “You sit.”

  There was movement under the blanket, which was suddenly flung away by one little arm. It was hard to blame the kid for pushing the blanket off her face on an eighty-degree day. But Zara’s cheekbones flushed pink as her baby made herself more comfortable by baring Zara’s breast. She’d put her little palm up against the swell of Zara’s boob.

  And—whoa. Zara had expanded in the chest department. She was curvy now.

  The baby’s hand wandered off her mother’s breast and into Zara’s hair, which she wrapped around her little fingers as she suckled.

  I was witnessing something intimate and touching in a way that seemed entirely foreign to me. Goosebumps broke out on the back of my neck.

  I’d never been in so far over my head.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Zara

  So there I was, tit in the breeze, Nicole slurping away like a starving baby while my brother laughed and my former lover averted his gaze.

  If I’d learned anything the past two years it was that humility and motherhood were bosom buddies.

  “Anybody heard any good jokes today?” I asked into the uncomfortable silence.

  Bess dabbed at her eyes. “You’re a good sport, Zara. Thank you for letting us come over today.”

  “It’s my pleasure,” I said, although it was a lie. I couldn’t think of a more stressful moment in my life, including the scary day when I’d taken a home pregnancy test and had seen a plus sign.

  Dave leaned forward and grabbed another of Audrey’s mini muffins. “This is a cool old mill. When was it built?”

  “In the 1890s,” my brother said, rising from the couch. “From over here you can see the original hydraulic system.”

  Dave followed my brother out onto the terrace, and I could hear Ben’s voice as he pointed to the old water wheel below.

  Bess and I were left alone, and I let myself exhale.

  “You must be freaking out,” she whispered.

  The observation caught me off-guard, and I laughed. “So much for my acting career.”

  She grinned. “Bumping into him must have been a shock.”

  “I don’t know which of us was more stunned,” I admitted. “I searched for him, you know. Benito did, too.”

  “Dave said.”

  I shrugged. “Never meant to drop a bomb like that on anyone. I was at least as afraid as him.”

  Bess sighed. “Dave said he was kind of abrupt.”

  “It was a shock,” I said, dismissing it.

  “Sure, but…” She glanced toward the terrace and back at me. “We had kind of a harrowing childhood. He has a pretty dismal view of family life.”

  Wonderful. I kept my face impassive, but she probably saw me flinch.

  “Listen.” She leaned forward. “He’s a good man. He just might need a little time to get his head around the idea. He used to talk about you, you know.”

  “He did?” I failed to keep the surprise out of my voice.

  “Whenever he got drunk and mellow. He’d say, ‘I met this girl in Vermont. Did I tell you about Zara?’”

  All the hair stood up on the back of my neck. The story I’d told myself was that Dave forgot about me the minute he left Vermont. And I’d sort of needed that to be true, so that I wouldn’t think wistful thoughts about him. “We had a lot of fun together,” I said slowly. “But that was a long time ago.”

  Bess’s green gaze looked thoughtful. “I’m just saying, it meant something to him. He’s freaked out right now, but he’ll come around. He’s an excellent caretaker.”

  “Of who?” I whispered.

  “Me. He saved me.” Her eyes got shiny. “When he was fourteen, he hit himself in the face with a wrench. Four times.”

  “God, why?” I gasped.

  “So that someone would notice,” she said quickly. “Our father only hit us where it wouldn’t show. I got the worst of it, because I fought back more than Dave did. It was terrible. So he needed to make a point, that’s why he beat himself up. That same week, the school intervened. Our grandparents had to step up and open their home. He broke his own cheekbone. But our father never hit me again.”

  “Jesus, Bess!” Dave hissed, re-entering the room. “Nobody wants to hear about that.”

  Bess flushed, but her eyes argued with him. And her brother stared her down, quietly threatening hellfire if she kept talking about their childhood.

  It was almost like I could hear their argument flying back and forth through the air. Because I’d had those sibling standoffs, too. Benito and I had engaged in more silent battles than I could count.

  My brother bailed them out of their argument by changing the subject. “Bess, have you been to Vermont before?”

  “I can’t say I have.”

  “When Nicky has had her fill, we can all get outside for a few minutes. I’ll give you the nickel tour of the banks of the Winooski River. Or you and I could go down now.”

  “Great idea,” she said, taking the bait. She rose from the sofa, not looking at Dave.

  They were obviously trying to give me a moment alone with Dave, though I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for one.

  “We’ll join you in just a minute,” I said. “Nicole loves to get outside.”

  “See you down there.” My brother headed for the door.

  A silence settled over the room as soon as Benito and Bess exited. Avoiding Dave, I looked down at Nicole, where she lazily nursed in my arms. One of her chubby hands had found a lock of my hair, which she was twisting. When she’d been really little and nursing all the time, I’d had to pin my hair up or she’d tie me in knots.

  A shadow fell over us, and then the sofa depressed under Dave’s weight as he sat down beside me. I held my breath.

  “She’s beautiful, Zara.” His voice was so soft I might have missed it if all my senses weren’t dialed up to eleven. “Just like you.”

  “Thank you,” I said stiffly. And Nicole chose that moment to pop off of my nipple and struggle to sit up. I swiftly tucked my boob away and smoothed down my shirt. The baby spent a moment studying Dave. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I waited to see if she’d climb into his lap. Nicole loved men, in spite of the fact that she didn’t have a daddy. She gravitated toward their dee
p voices, and never showed any fear. Mommy’s girl.

  I wondered what he’d do if she approached him. Would he pick her up and smile? Or would that look of hesitation stay on his face?

  And which of those two things did I want? I was at war with myself.

  Nicole didn’t approach him, though. Dave wasn’t doing anything particularly entertaining—just watching her. So Nicole decided to wiggle toward the floor. I set her down and then found Dave studying me.

  “Hey. I wanted to apologize again for being rude yesterday,” he whispered as Nicole wandered back over to the giant stuffy Bess had brought. “I was shaken up.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “I’ll bet you’re a little shaken up, too, though.”

  “Yeah,” I said quickly, meeting his green eyes. And, wow. I never thought I’d be trapped in that emerald gaze again. “Yesterday was like seeing a ghost.”

  He smiled suddenly, and I felt a shiver of familiarity. Then his smile faded. “I’m sorry if I was a dick.”

  “It’s okay. I get it.” I cleared my throat. The tension between us was oppressive, so I changed the topic. “Your sister is great.”

  “In small doses,” he corrected, and I laughed. “Your brothers really look out for you, too.”

  “That would be better in small doses, too,” I agreed. “They love me, but my family is bossy as fu…heck,” I corrected quickly.

  He grinned. And then he did something even more unexpected. He reached over and pulled me into a brief, tight hug. “It’s good to see you again,” he whispered right into my ear. “I can’t imagine the time you’ve had.”

  The next moment he released me, but it took a few seconds for my brain to catch up. I was still stuck on the feel of his hard chest against my body and the familiar scent of his aftershave. “I…” I stammered, my brain fogged. “It’s been…” Focus, Zara. “I’m doing well. You don’t have to feel guilty.”

  “I do, though.” His voice was gruff.

  “No,” I shook my head. “Don’t. A lot has changed for me these two years, but that’s not a bad thing.” It wasn’t easy for me to explain. “Becoming a mother wasn’t something I’d been considering—yet. I was kind of a wild teenager. I may have mentioned that.”