Mia snuggled closer, the warmth of her body pressed tightly to Isobel. Warmth that soaked into her, intent on worming its way to her heart. The tiny blonde head tucked under her chin. Isobel felt every muscle in Mia relax as she shuddered out a breath, the raggedness that followed too many tears.
Isobel froze. She was stuck. It would be easy to surrender, to allow this little girl in. Yet opening that door would let other things out. Things she wasn’t ready to look at. Her arms stayed glued to her sides. Folding them around this life would be to sign acceptance on the dotted line.
****
“Doctor, can I adjust this drip?”
“Go ahead.” Liam felt the buzz of the phone in his pocket. He ignored it and finished writing out a script. “Good news, Mrs. Morwana. You’ll be going home today.” He handed her file to the nurse. “Make arrangements?”
The elderly lady in the hospital bed clapped in delight.
Liam’s phone buzzed again. “Excuse me, will you? Sister Taylor will help you.” He moved into the passage and checked the bright screen. Isobel, her second call. His finger hovered over the answer button, but he changed his mind and put the phone back in his pocket. It was too soon. It was time to do his paediatric rounds, anyway. She would have to wait.
Tanisha was a slight, three-year-old asthmatic who had come in during the night fighting for each breath. She was sleeping now, stable, though still weak. Nine-year-old Vaughn was in the bed next to hers, recovering from a severe allergic reaction to an antibiotic that he’d been given for bronchitis.
Liam moved through the ward, each little face brightened as he came close, sharing a joke here, a whisper of encouragement there.
Tanisha’s mom was waiting for him in the hall, “Doctor Brigham, thank you for rescuing my little girl. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…”
He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Don’t go there. You don’t need to, she‘ll be just fine.”
“You’re right. Honestly, your life is a gift from God to us. If you had a horse and some shiny armour, you would be our knight!”
He laughed, “Well then I’d better be on my way, there are some dragons that need slaying. I’ll be back later to check on her.”
As he walked the familiar passages, his thoughts turned toward Mia and Isobel. Deep in his gut lurked a certainty that Mia’s mom was no longer alive. There was something going on in this town that was not right. Two apparent suicides, two children swallowed up into the welfare system without a trace…
He wanted to punch something. Better yet, someone. In all the uncertainty, he knew two things—Mia needed someone and so did Isobel. It made perfect sense that they should be together.
Everybody needs somebody.
A dull ache stirred at the thought, but he shut it off and checked his watch. Time to get to his rooms.
9
Melindi answered the doorbell looking as if she’d had a spectacular fight with her duvet and lost. She grinned when she saw Isobel. “Hey! Come in. Just don’t mind the mess.” Then she saw the small person on Isobel’s hip. “And who is this?” Her eyebrows would have formed question marks if they could. “Come inside. You can introduce us over some tea.”
Mia stretched her arms to Melindi and giggled.
Isobel was taken aback. It was the first time she’d heard Mia laugh.
Melindi reached out and took her.
“Look at you! Come here.”
Mia fell into her arms, still covered in banana.
“Oh, you have been busy, haven’t you? My little banana girl.”
Mia responded to her cooing with a dimpled smile.
Melindi’s warmth washed over Isobel, who stood rooted to the welcome mat. A twinge of something green tiptoed across the back of her mind. Jealousy? How strange. She frowned as Melindi tugged her inside. Isobel narrowly avoided tripping over the train set that sprawled the entire length of the entrance hall.
Gunfire echoed through the house, but Melindi rolled her eyes. They found Ben in the lounge, his face lit blue from the TV. “Ben! Put it off! You are too young to watch that police show. How many times must I tell you?”
“But, Ma, you must see this gadget they’ve got. It shows blood stains even after they’ve been washed off!” He hovered protectively over the power switch, eyes flitting between the action on the screen and his mom’s finger of doom. Please was etched into every contorted muscle of his face.
“Ben, it’s not the gadgets that I have an issue with.”
“It’s not that bad. Watch and see.” The words had barely left his lips when the actor in the cream suit doubled over, blood splattering across his lady friend, who erupted in a scream that could curdle chocolate milk. Ben flicked the switch, hid the remote behind his back, and grinned at his mom.
Melindi said nothing. She didn’t have to. “Find some building bricks, boy. Play something that doesn’t involve bleeding, OK?”
The boy looked dismayed.
Isobel stifled a snort.
Melindi rolled her eyes and then made sure her back was to Ben before catching Isobel’s eye with a smile and a wink. “Come, neighbour, let’s get this little mess cleaned up.”
They climbed the stairs, stepped over a neatly parked collection of cars and a three-legged dinosaur cast in the role of a popular movie’s giant monster.
“I’m going to run a bath for this sticky miss. Is that OK?” Melindi didn’t wait for an answer, but led Isobel to a tiny bathroom. Soon the bath was bobbing with floating ducks and bubbles. She undressed Mia and popped her in the tub. The child laughed as she nearly disappeared under the thick, white foam.
“Tea?”
“Please.” Isobel felt a moment of panic as Melindi left.
Mia swatted bubbles happily.
What am I going to do? This child needs her own mom. Not me. Anyone but me. Her thoughts went no further.
Melindi came back and put a steaming cup in her hands.
Isobel sat on the toilet seat, took a sip, and felt lost.
Melindi plopped herself on the plastic kiddie step. “Jacques is away, again. Lilly is napping. What’s going on in your life?”
Isobel’s gaze strayed to Mia who was blowing holes in the bubbles and clapping them between her hands. Tendrils of blonde hair stuck to her face in the steam. The question hung thick in the air, unasked, but demanding an answer.
“She is...her mom is going through a difficult patch and I need to look after her. For a while.” Isobel cleared her throat and studied the flowers on her cup. The whole truth was something Isobel couldn’t make sense of.
“How long will she be with you?”
Isobel shook her head. She put down her cup and frustration overwhelmed her. “No idea. Who am I kidding? I don’t know the first thing about kids! What am I going to do? I’m not ready for this. I never will be.”
“I felt like that when Ben was born. Don’t worry, Bel. It’s in you. Be gentle on yourself. It will take time.” Melindi put down her tea, took a bottle of baby shampoo, and poured a little into her palm. She began massaging the bubbly shampoo into Mia’s hair. “You’re a quiet little thing, aren’t you?” Melindi rinsed out the suds and gestured to Isobel to pass conditioner. “She really doesn’t say much, does she? How old is she?”
Isobel cringed. “Two-ish.”
“I would have guessed that. OK. This is how kids work. They need food—three small meals a day and some fruit and water in between. Avoid sugar as much as possible.” She grinned at Isobel. “My kids zoom on sugar. It’s terrifying. Other than that, they need a regular bedtime and a nap in the afternoon. Most of all? They need love. Lots and lots of love. Just like us, really. It’s how we’re built.”
“You make it sound simple.”
“It is, actually. She’s a person like you, just… small.” She rinsed and conditioned Mia’s hair, took her out of the bath, and wrapped her in a fluffy pink towel. A layer of Mia’s peeling skin came off on the towel as Melindi patted her dry. “This sunb
urn is bad. Do you have cream?”
Tears welled in Isobel’s eyes. She didn’t trust herself to speak, just shook her head.
Melindi caught the undercurrent. “Do you have anything for her? Clothes?”
Isobel shook her head at each question. She bit her tongue to stop the tears. The pain made it worse and one tear escaped down her cheek.
A loud wail from the nursery echoed through the house.
“Lilly. I’d better go get her. Here.” She handed Isobel a mismatched wad of boy’s clothes and a diaper. “Dress her in these.”
Isobel took the pile, eyed the silent little girl who studied her with serious eyes, and wanted to run.
****
The sun was setting as Isobel and Mia walked home.
Ben hopped and skipped along with them, carrying a bag full of useful things from his mom. He dumped it on the kitchen floor, wrinkling his nose at the dried banana mess still plastered all over the tiles. He hugged Isobel’s knees and his cast caught on the back of her pants. “Whoops! Sorry!”
She tousled his hair with a grin.
“Thank you for helping us home, Ben. Off you go. We don’t want your mom to worry.”
He waved and ran down the path, clanging his splinted arm on the gate on the way out. That boy had one speed, full tilt.
Isobel’s arms ached from carrying Mia, who was rubbing her eyes and yawning. Isobel had spent the day watching Melindi mother her own two and effortlessly expand her love to include Mia as well. She had fed, corrected, and laughed with them. Love flowed from the gentleness of making an ‘owie’ better to the fierce sternness that kept tiny fingers from electrical sockets.
Being around her for the day had shifted something inside Isobel. She felt a twinge of confidence and the slightest stirring of something else she couldn’t identify.
The stairs creaked under their combined weight.
“I think we should go shopping for you tomorrow, Mia. You can’t live in boys’ clothes.”
Mia didn’t answer, but lay her head on Isobel’s shoulder. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, she was asleep.
Too worn out to think, Isobel tucked her into the big double bed and crawled in next to her. Half the night sleeping upright in an armchair has a way of tiring one out. Somewhere in the middle of her second yawn, Bel blacked out.
****
Liam checked his watch. The day’s rounds were over, and he was off duty until morning. By the time he locked the door to his rooms, he had made up his mind. He had been itching all day to see how Isobel and Mia were getting on. It wouldn’t hurt to stop by on his way home.
Between him and his car, a street kid sat waiting. In spite of the heat, he wore a holey jersey which hung on his sharp shoulders as if off a coat hanger. Leaning on the lamppost, more bones than flesh, his face lit up when he saw Liam. “Money for bread, baas?”
Liam grinned and shook his head. He couldn’t solve South Africa’s street-kid problem, but this one boy had crept into his heart.
“You know I don’t give you money. Here, take this.” He took his untouched lunch—peanut butter on whole wheat, a green apple the size of his fist, and a bottle of grape juice and handed it over.
The boy took his prize, a flash of white teeth Liam’s only thanks, and skittered off to find a safe place to eat.
Liam eased into his vehicle and pulled out of the parking into the stream of traffic.
Sunset washed the sky in an orange glow. A breeze played with the palms lining the street.
In the rear view mirror, he caught sight of a red pickup pulling out. Home time was in full swing—even for such a sleepy holiday town. Liam indicated left, turning off the main road towards the suburbs.
Two cars behind him, the pickup did the same.
Liam frowned. He shook his head at the paranoia. All the unknowns were obviously getting to him. To prove to himself that he was being an idiot, he began weaving through the suburb in a random pattern of lefts and rights. He checked his rear view.
Whoever was in the Ford was determined to stay on his tail.
Fear and frustration shot through Liam. Bel and Mia were in trouble, and he was the cause. Every male instinct in him shouted defend, protect, and make right. Yet cold reality said otherwise. The only way to keep them safe was to back off completely. He dare not lead whoever was following him to their home. He checked his phone: eight missed calls throughout the day. Oh, Bel. I can only hope that one day you will understand.
He turned the car away from her street and drove toward home with a heart of lead.
10
Déjà vu slapped Isobel awake.
Mia’s heartbroken howl tore through her eardrums with the same bone rattling intensity as a jet taking off in the back yard.
This time, Isobel knew exactly what to do. She’d postpone her panic until after offering Mia a banana. She carried the child downstairs, popped her on the floor on a clean towel, and put a peeled fruit in her hands.
Mia’s cries dried up instantly as she busied herself breaking off chunks and getting them into her mouth.
Isobel’s body was moving, but her brain was still deeply entrenched in her pillows. She went through the motions putting the kettle on and cleaning yesterday’s banana from the tiles. By the time her floor shone and her second cup of tea was in, she felt ready to face this tiny creature who had thrown her life into chaos.
Isobel rang Liam’s mobile again, not expecting him to answer. He didn’t. Big surprise. She took a banana for herself, pulled back the peel, and on impulse sat on the floor next to Mia.
Mia stopped eating, studied the banana in Isobel’s hand and looked at her own. She turned back to Isobel and grinned.
Isobel thought her heart might pop. Then it hit her. “You have teeth. We haven’t brushed them for days. What was the good doctor thinking trusting me with you?” She groaned. Just when she thought she was getting the hang of this.
Mia, on the other hand, was superbly unconcerned about dental hygiene. She found it far more interesting to squish the last bit of banana into the towel.
****
Isobel felt like a pimple on a prom date as she walked into the shop holding hands with a two-year-old dressed in oversized boy clothes.
Mia was barefoot and did not want to be carried. She communicated the fact in the car park very clearly, even though she’d not spoken a single word.
Isobel wasn’t up to fighting and decided to let her walk. Nobody died from cold feet. Or embarrassment either, for that matter.
The next few hours felt like something Isobel had borrowed from someone else’s life. She bought a pink dinosaur toothbrush and bubblegum flavoured toothpaste. A packet of disposable diapers went into the trolley; she threw in some training panties and a potty too.
Mia sat in the trolley sucking on a lollipop, taking it all in her stride.
By the time Isobel got to the clothing section, she couldn’t suppress the smile on her face. She picked out a few t-shirt and short sets covered in fairies, three summery dresses, a soft knitted sweater in swirls of turquoise and purple, and two polar fleece tracksuits for the cold snaps. “You are costing me lots of money, little girl. It’s a good thing Rochelle has kept me so busy.”
Rochelle! Tomorrow was Monday.
Isobel was supposed to be teaching that candle-making class. She paled at the thought of Mia running free in the studio. That would never work. Her only option was to ask Melindi. She cringed at the thought. Melindi had her hands full between her AWOL husband, baby, and Ben with his broken arm. It wasn’t fair to add a toddler to that mix.
Isobel had no other choice.
****
The studio reeked of hot wax.
Kez-lyn waved her half-finished candle towards the bubbling pot and prodded Savannah in the ribs. “Give me your legs. I’ll wax them while we’re at it. Save you the trouble of shaving.”
“No way! I’m not letting you anywhere near me. Look at what you’re doing to your candle, and i
t isn’t even finished yet.”
Kez-lyn held up her work in progress. It was bent and looked rather sad. “What? It has character.”
Savannah snorted. “That’s a little more character than I want my legs to have, thank you very much!”
Even Maggie laughed.
“OK, everybody, this is your next step.” Isobel sent a loving thought Melindi’s way as she gathered her Monday morning ladies around her. Much to Isobel’s relief, Melindi had agreed to watch Mia. The ladies were quiet for once as she demonstrated adding scent to the classic dipped candles they were working on. “It’s that simple ladies. Once you’ve dipped them, you hang them up here to dry. Careful with this hot wax. I wouldn’t recommend it for hair removal.” She winked at Kez, who mock-rolled her eyes. “Once it is properly set, we’ll melt and add the second colour. Any questions?”
“I do!” Maggie hardly ever spoke. When she did, everyone gave her their full attention. “Why are you looking so happy, Isobel? I haven’t seen you this joyful since we met you.”
Mischa nodded. “She’s right, you know. You are looking radiant. Have you met somebody?” Her face had that nudge-nudge-wink-wink look written all over it.
“Gosh no! Ladies. No. It’s not what you think.”
“What is it then? Do tell…” Jules put her candle down.
They all put their candles down.
Bug. Microscope. Earth, eat me now.
“Seriously, ladies. I…just…really like making candles.” She plastered a smile as bright as a plastic sunflower on her face. “Gosh, look at the time. We’d better carry on. Who wants pink next?”
The ladies shared a look, stuck stubborn hands on their hips, and pointedly ignored their candles.
Isobel squirmed.
Maggie softened first. “It’s fine, Bel. You can tell us when you’re ready. Right, girls?”
Isobel shot her a thank-you-I-owe-you look, and the candles took centre stage amidst a low muttering that included the phrases “getting off too lightly” and “spilling the beans.”
Finding Mia Page 5