The Fourth Child

by C. J. Carmichael

  Daisy's face was red as she gave in quietly and climbed into the van.

  Claire tamped down an impulse to scream at Andie and looked mutely, instead, at Kirk. He shook his head, not having to speak for her to know what he was thinking. What should we do?

  Claire was too tired to force a confrontation. With a sigh she climbed into the driver's seat, while Kirk went back inside for the final load. He came out carrying a box of perishable food.

  "That's the last of it." Kirk shut the back door to the van firmly, then walked around the driver's side. He stuck a hand in the open window and ruffled Daisy's hair. "Are you sure you don't want to come in the car? Andie doesn't set the rules around here, you know."

  Daisy shook her head, her bottom lip full, her eyes shiny with tears. "I'm going with Mommy."

  Claire glanced back at the cottage, all locked up, blinds pulled over the windows. Once again she acknowledged that she wasn't ready to leave. But she had no choice. Her kids had to go to school. Once again, too, she acknowledged that she had to start living with her husband again. That, or get up the courage to tell him to leave.

  Which was it to be?

  Stomach burning, she secured her seat belt, slipped on her sunglasses.

  "Ready?" Kirk asked.

  She nodded, then twisted the key. As she drove off without looking back, the knowledge that they'd return for Thanksgiving provided cold comfort. Thanksgiving was almost two months away. And a lot could happen in two months.

  They made good time on the trip, and Claire pulled the van into the garage just before four o'clock, Kirk's Volvo right behind her. She got out and stretched, easing the kinks from her shoulders and back.

  "Excuse me, Mom." Andie tried to push past in the restricted space of the garage.

  "Let me shut my door. What's the rush?"

  "I want to put up that postcard Mallory and Drew sent me from the Gatineau Hills. And I want to see all my stuffed animals again."

  Claire opened the passenger door for Daisy, then went round the back, where Kirk was already removing luggage.

  "I'll do the unloading," he said. "And I was thinking we should order in pizza for dinner tonight. Sound okay?"

  "Good idea." They'd have enough work to do getting unpacked and settled without preparing a meal, as well.

  "You go inside and rest for a minute," Kirk said, lugging two suitcases and Daisy's backpack. "It's a long drive in the hot sun."

  Claire shepherded in the younger girls, then fixed them a small snack before collapsing on the sofa. Andie was still in her room, and frankly, Claire hoped she would stay there awhile. That crack about not driving with Daisy hadn't been die first mean thing Andie had said to her younger sister today, and Claire had just about had it.

  Kirk dumped the suitcases of dirty clothes in the laundry room and placed the perishables in the fridge. By then, Claire was refreshed enough to supervise baths for the children, while Kirk phoned in their pizza order.

  "Bath time," she said, shooing them up the stairs.

  "But I don't want one," Daisy grumbled.

  "Pretend it's the lake," Claire suggested.

  "Then I want to wear my bathing suit."

  "Will we need to wear life jackets?" Jenna wondered.

  Claire rolled her eyes. "What have I started?"

  "Don't worry." Kirk was coming up the stairs behind her. "I can handle this. You go have a bath of your own."

  "Are you sure?" At Kirk's nod, she left them to it and headed for the master bathroom. As she passed Andie's room, she noticed her daughter reading as usual.

  "You need to have a bath, too, Andie."

  "I'm not a baby. I'll have a shower when they're done."

  "Fine." Claire retreated to the master suite and turned on the water in her sunken tub and added a handful of bath salts. A good long soak was the one thing she missed when she went to the cottage for the summer, since they had only the one shower.

  The denim jumper came off in one long tug; her T-shirt and underwear followed quickly. She searched one of the bags Kirk had brought up earlier and found her latest mystery novel. Ready at last, she stepped down into the tub.

  Scented water engulfed her naked body, and she sighed with the physical pleasure of warmth and the tang of lavender. She stretched out her legs and cupped her hands over her mounded tummy.

  For two chapters, she was lost to the world. The next thing she knew, the doorbell was ringing and the water felt lukewarm.

  "Pizza! Pizza!" Jenna's voice reverberated throughout the house.

  Claire wrapped herself in a terry robe, then hurried downstairs to set plates around the table and pour glasses of milk. Kirk placed the cardboard pizza boxes in the center of the table, his wet hair clinging to his head. When had he found time to take a shower?

  "Two pieces, please," Daisy said. "I'm starving."

  Kirk opened the box and the smell of tomato sauce and warm bread had everyone leaning forward.

  Everyone except Andie.

  "I don't like that kind."

  "There's plain cheese and tomato," Kirk pointed out.

  "I don't want that, either."

  Claire sighed and hoped the girls would go to sleep after dinner. She was so tired she would go to bed right after them.

  Which would conveniently finesse the bedroom issue. Claire had no idea whether Kirk expected to sleep in the same bed as her now that they were home. She knew she ought to have broached the topic with him earlier; she couldn't ask him to sleep on the couch seven days a week. But what alternatives did they have? She couldn't imagine sleeping a wink if he was beside her.

  "Mom, tell Daisy to eat with her mouth closed," Andie complained.

  Daisy seemed startled. "I am."

  "No, you're not. You're making too much noise, and you're disgusting to watch."

  Daisy started to cry and Claire looked at Andie, at a loss to understand these recent outbursts; "Don't talk to your sister that way, Andie."

  "Why not? I hate her! She's stupid and ugly and I wish she'd never been born!" Andie jumped up from her chair and ran for her room. Daisy started crying all the harder.

  "Oh, my Lord." Claire pushed a hand through her damp hair and wondered if they could install a lock on the outside of Andie's door. At his end of the table, Kirk appeared as fed up as she felt.

  "I can't believe Andie would talk that way."

  Claire shook her head, then reached over to

  Daisy. "Don't cry, hon. Your sister didn't mean those things she said."

  The legs of Kirk's chair scraped against the floor. "I'm going to speak with her."

  Claire nodded, trying to tamp down the anger she couldn't help but feel toward her eldest daughter. The attack on Daisy had been completely unprovoked, at least as far as she could tell.

  Daisy had pushed her plate aside, and now she turned to her mother. "Why doesn't Andie like me anymore?"

  The question wrenched Claire's heart. "Your sister loves you, Daisy. She's just feeling unhappy, and…"

  And taking it out on her younger sister. But why? Was she worried about school starting again? She'd managed to complete the math workbook this summer without any difficulty. Which made Claire wonder all the more about those poor grades. Andie could handle the work. Last year, she'd just chosen not to.

  Claire picked up Daisy and pulled her onto her lap. Or what was left of it.

  "I don't think she does like me." Daisy pushed her face into Claire's shoulder. "She never wants to play anymore. All she does is read and complain about how noisy I am."

  Claire hugged her tighter, thankful that at least Jenna wasn't letting the scene upset her. She'd finished her first slice of pizza, having eaten down to the hard edge of the crust. Now she looked at Claire to see if it was okay for her to have seconds.

  Claire settled Daisy back in her chair, then placed a fresh slice on both Daisy's and Jenna's plates. "Try to eat a little more, hon," she said to Daisy. "And don't worry about your sister. She'll come around. I'm sure."
>
  Once Daisy was calm, Claire left the two girls at the table and followed the sound of Andie's sobs up the stairs. Kirk had taken Andie into their bedroom. Looking into Andie's room and seeing the stuffed animals and the postcards their eldest had thrown around in a rage, Claire understood why. She returned to the door of the master suite, pausing at the sound of her husband's voice.

  "Sh, sweetie, sh," Kirk was saying between Andie's sobs. "Sh, sweetie."

  Peering into the room, Claire saw him holding Andie against his chest, stroking her hair with one hand. Gradually, Andie's cries subsided.

  "You must be feeling awful inside to have said those tilings to your sister. What's wrong, Andie?"

  The comment was astute, and as Andie began sobbing again, Claire put a hand to her forehead. The poor kid. She sounded as if her heart was breaking.

  Oh, Andie. Andie.

  Why hadn't she herself been as insightful as

  Kirk? Of course Andie had to be hurting to have said those things. Only, why was Andie so unhappy? Claire had tried hard to give her extra attention this summer.

  "Daddy, are you and Mom going to get a divorce?"

  Claire covered her mouth and sank to the carpet. Kirk was quiet for several moments before he spoke.

  "Why do you ask that?"

  "Because my friend Erin's parents got a divorce. And she gave me a list of things to watch out for. And, Daddy—every one of them is happening to you and Mom—except for the yelling."

  "Oh, my Lord, Andie. When did Erin give you this list?"

  "The week after Christmas."

  Which was when her marks had begun to drop, and her interest in friends had declined. All this time Claire had thought Andie was having a problem with her friends, but the problem was her parents.

  "You were on a business trip," Andie continued, "and Mom said I could have Erin for a sleep-over. We talked all night. She said that one of the signs is when the dad is hardly ever home."

  "But, Andie, I've always taken business trips."

  "Not as many as this year. You sent me seven postcards. Last year I only got three. Daddy, I feel so sick whenever you go away."

  Claire bit her lip, remembering Andie's constant, anxious queries about her father. When is Daddy coming? They'd tried so hard to protect the children from then- troubles. But they'd forgotten Andie was growing up…

  "I know you slept on the couch every night at the cottage, Daddy. That was another sign."

  "Oh, sweetheart."

  Claire could hear the rustle of cloth and assumed Kirk was giving Andie another hug. She wanted to rush in and hug her daughter, too, but the interruption might stop Andie from talking, and she'd been bottling all this inside for far too long already.

  "Marriages are very private things," Kirk began. "But you've got to trust your mom and me to do the best we can. I know it's hard, but you know we'll always look after you and love you. Right?"

  Andie sniffled. "But, Daddy. I want us to all stay together."

  "We're together now, aren't we?"

  "Yes, but—"

  "Never mind Erin's list, okay? Let me tell you something that I know is true."

  "What?"

  "Those things on that list also happen to dads and moms who stay together."

  "They do?"

  "Ask any couple."

  "Even Mallory and Drew?"

  Kirk laughed. "Yes. Even them."

  "But Grady and Bess got divorced, Daddy. It does happen."

  Claire could hear Kirk's sigh as clearly as if he were right beside her.

  "Yes. You're right," he replied. "Sometimes divorce does happen."

  Claire eased herself back up to her feet and went downstairs. She'd failed her eldest daughter. How could she have been so insensitive? For the past six months Andie had been worrying about the family falling apart so much that she'd lost interest in her schoolwork and her friends. It was so obvious now.

  Claire went through the motions of cleaning up from dinner, then put the younger girls to bed. Fortunately, they were both exhausted, so it didn't take much effort. When they were asleep, she finally dared to go back upstairs. She found Andie curled up in her father's arms, both Andie and Kirk asleep on the king-size bed in the master bedroom.

  Claire stood watching them for a long time, all too aware that a solution to the trouble in their family wasn't going to drop out of the sky hike a lucky lotto ticket and quickly fix their problems.

  She reached a hand to Andie's forehead to brush back a strand of hair and in that moment felt the absolute simplicity of the solution. It could come from her and it could come from Kirk. And all it would take to make it work was a firm commitment.

  What if, she wondered with an almost dizzying perception of how marriage could be, what if she and Kirk loved each other with the same boundless, unconditional love they showered on their children? What if she could make Kirk feel he was "the one and only"? If he could make her feel she was the most precious woman on earth?

  Claire looked down on her husband's face, seeing a vulnerability that wasn't visible when he was awake. She thought of the boy she'd married—the handsome, blond baseball champ; the keen young stockbroker with more plans than clients, more energy than cash. Kirk's specialty was investments. Well, was there any greater than the one they'd made in each other?

  "I love you." As she murmured the words Claire touched his cheek lightly, then Andie's. Her family. Her heart ached with the need to hold them close, to protect them.

  "Come here." Kirk whispered the words, extending his one free arm.

  "I didn't know you were awake."

  "I'm not. Just dreaming I'm in this wonderful place where I'm hugging my wife and my daughter so tightly I'll never lose either of them."

  Kirk's hand found hers, and he pulled her down. "Come, Claire…"

  He tucked her in next to him, her face on his chest, his arm circling her shoulder. She could smell the soap he'd used in the shower, the fabric softener on his clean T-shirt. She curled her legs up over his and felt her foot against Andie's leg. Her daughter sighed and snuggled in closer to her dad.

  "I love you, Claire. I love you." The words settled like a warm blanket around her heart She put a hand to her husband's cheek and allowed her eyes to relax and close.

  "I love you, too."

  She hadn't felt this safe hi a long time.

  in the middle of the night, Claire felt something on her cheek. She reached to smooth it away, thinking it was a strand of her hair. But it wasn't. It was a hand.

  Claire opened her eyes and saw Andie, still lying next to Kirk, watching her. She reached up, squeezed Andie's hand and smiled.

  "Mommy."

  "I'm here, honey."

  Andie sighed, closed her eyes, and fell back asleep.

  sometime in the night Jenna and Daisy must have had a nightmare. Or maybe they'd just woken up and felt strange not being at the cottage. At any rate, when morning came Kirk saw that Daisy was lying next to Claire, while Jenna was partly on top of him.

  "Daddy?" Jenna rolled a little so their faces were practically touching. "I feel funny."

  "Funny in what way?"

  "My tooth." Jenna wiggled it with her tongue, causing the skin under her bottom lip to bulge. "Check it, Daddy."

  Obligingly, Kirk dislodged his hand from under Andie's shoulders, and reached hi to take a tug. "Oh."

  "What is it, Daddy?" Jenna asked, unaware that she now had a small gap in her bottom front teeth.

  "Guess what I found." He put the tooth in her hand.

  "My tooth! I lost my tooth!" Jenna bounded up and down on his chest. "Daisy, I lost a tooth, too!"

  "Let me see." Daisy leaned over Claire to get a better look.

  "First Mommy sees.''

  Claire was just waking, her eyelids heavy as she brushed her hair back from her forehead to peer at the treasure. "Wow, hon—your first tooth!"

  "Kind of nice, isn't it?" Kirk murmured in Claire's ear. "Having them all in bed with us."
r />   It was the us part that was the best. He remembered Claire lying down with him and Andie earlier. That she'd fallen asleep, stayed the night, had to be a good sign.

  "A little crowded. But very nice." Claire smiled at him with drowsy warmth. "Good thing we have a king-size bed."

  Kirk shifted his long legs to make room for Jenna and Daisy, who were now tumbling at the foot of the bed, tickling each other and giggling. While Andie still slept…

  "It's only going to get more crowded. Soon we'll be six."

  Kirk focused on his wife, wondering if she'd considered the import of the words she'd just spoken.

  He thought probably she had, judging by the way she was looking at him right now, her eyes so full of…

  "I probably don't tell you this enough, Kirk, but I think you're a fantastic success. I've always been proud to be your wife."

  Love. Her look was so full of love, and it was directed at him.

  "I want to be a good husband and father, Claire."

  "You are."

  "I think I could be better." This summer he'd taken off every weekend. And it hadn't been that hard. Surely, if he was organized and determined and maybe sacrificed just a little of his ambition at work…

  She kissed him then, and he pulled her close, waking Andie with the movement. She groaned, then turned over, finally opening her eyes.

  "We're all in the same bed!" Andie looked amazed, and happier than Kirk could remember.

  Claire reached out to her daughter in the same instant that he did. "You know," she said. "I want to gather you all in the world's biggest, tightest hug. Come here, Jenna and Daisy."

  They collapsed in a pile, together, and Kirk saw the tear, just before it fell off Claire's cheek onto the pillow. He rubbed her skin with his finger, then kissed the spot gently. He felt the same bittersweet happiness that he knew she was experiencing. How close they'd come to losing all this.

  "Andie? How about fixing your sisters some breakfast so your mother and I can get a few more minutes' sleep?"

  "Daddy, I'm tired," Andie moaned. Then quickly she sat up. "You and Mom are going to sleep together, right?"

  "That's right."

  "Okay. Come on, kids. I'll toast you some frozen waffles. I saw them in the freezer last night."