Bringing Emma Home

by Stella MacLean

  She stopped. Her red curls bounced around her head. “Who are you?” she asked as she put her thumb in her mouth and stared at Grace, smudges of tears evident on her cheeks.

  “I’m Grace. I’m here to pick up a few things,” she said, unable to keep the smile off her face. With her bright blue eyes, Emma was a charming little girl.

  “Do you live here?” Emma said.

  “I...have, yes.” Grace couldn’t help but smile at the way Emma pursed her lips and scowled.

  “What things do you want?” Emma asked, speaking around the thumb in her mouth.

  “I make quilts and I need some fabric and stuff from upstairs. Would you like to go up with me and help me find what I’m looking for?”

  Stepping away from Aidan, Emma held her hand out and looked into Grace’s eyes. The sudden sense of connection charged through Grace like an electric current.

  “Yes.” Emma tugged on Grace’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  Aidan let out a long sigh. “This is great. Please let Emma help you get your materials while I try to get the ringing in my ears to stop,” he said, a wry smile on his face as he led the way to the stairs.

  Grace exchanged a quick look with Aidan. “That bad?” she asked.

  Aidan rubbed his jaw. “Emma isn’t happy with me or Lisa right now. She hasn’t eaten anything since we got home.”

  “Emma, I haven’t eaten, either. Maybe once you help me get my fabrics you and I could have a peanut butter sandwich together. What do you think?”

  Emma smiled as she headed up the stairs, her pudgy hands gripping the handrail as she took the steps one at a time with Grace following.

  “We need to go in here,” Grace said when they reached the top.

  A big smile spread over Emma’s face. “Next to my room,” she said excitedly as she hopped up and down. “Want to see my room?”

  Grace hesitated. It had been the room that held all her hopes and dreams for a child of her own. And now another child—her husband’s child—occupied the space Grace had imagined spending time in, rocking her baby, watching her child fall asleep after reading her or him a story.

  Could she go in there and not break down in tears? Aidan and Lisa would not appreciate another round of crying from anyone at this point. But she had a little girl waiting for her answer... “Show me your room.”

  Emma grabbed Grace’s hand and pulled her to the door, her fingers warm against Grace’s skin. “See. These are all my teddy bears. I love bears. Do you?”

  Grace’s eyes moved around the room she’d so lovingly decorated as she waited for the news that she was pregnant. The one thing she had prayed for had been denied her.

  Her heart sank at the changes in the room. The crib was gone and in its place a single bed stood between two dressers. The bed had been hastily made up. The mobile that had hung over her baby’s crib was dangling off the end of the bookshelf. The wallpaper looked decidedly infantile as a backdrop for the toddler and little-girl objects. Her throat ached with loss and regret.

  “Are you crying?” Emma asked, her voice gentle and oddly quiet as she tugged on Grace’s hand. “Mommy says that tears are needed sometimes.” She slipped her thumb into her mouth, then pressed her face into Grace’s leg. “I want Mommy,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Grace scooped Emma into her arms and sat on the edge of her bed, rocking her back and forth to ease the little girl’s distress. “Your mommy was right. Tears are very needed sometimes, aren’t they?” she asked, still holding the child, feeling the warmth of her little body.

  She held Emma as emotions long kept in check flooded over her. The powerful connection created by soothing and caring for such a precious little girl left her suspended in a place where only she and the child existed. This was what she’d waited for all her life—the touch of a child. Her child.

  She stroked Emma’s head soothingly, letting her snuggle. In this moment, she and Emma had a bond. They’d both lost a part of their lives they’d wanted. Emma had lost her mother. Grace would never give birth to a child. Smoothing Emma’s brow, Grace whispered into her curls, “Emma, this room was decorated for a little girl just like you.”

  Emma leaned back in her arms. “Like me?” she asked, a quizzical expression on her face.

  “Yes. Your dad and I wanted a baby just like you.”

  “Did you have one?” Emma whispered, her eyes wide ovals of deep blue.

  “No. We didn’t. But now you are here,” Grace said, looking directly into the toddler’s eyes, feeling a sudden sense of finding something for the very first time.

  “I’m staying here,” Emma said.

  “You are. For sure.”

  “Will you be here?”

  She didn’t know how to answer Emma, but in her heart, she knew that more than anything she wanted to be here with this wonderful little person. “Would you like that?”

  Emma’s eyes darkened. “Lisa is here, but she’s not staying very long,” she said.

  How does she know that? Has she overheard a conversation between Aidan and Lisa?

  “Emma, there will always be people who love you even when they can’t be with you,” Grace said, her heart pounding in dread. Emma had to be tired. And tired children could get upset very easily. She didn’t want Emma to be afraid that she might be left alone by yet another person. How could Lisa even think about not staying here with this little girl? “Your dad loves you very much. He will always be here for you.”

  “My mommy is gone. She’s in heaven with the angels,” Emma said, a forlorn look on her face.

  Life was so unfair. “Yes, your mommy is with the angels and you can pray for her whenever you like. I’m certain she’s looking down on you and loving you from heaven.”

  Emma gave a long sigh and snuggled closer.

  Grace held Emma in her arms as gently and lovingly as she could, and decided that whatever it took, she would try to work out her differences with Aidan. It would take time, but it was worth the effort. Not just for Aidan or for her, but for this wonderful little girl so in need of love and reassurance. She kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll make you the best peanut butter sandwich you ever had.”

  “Better than Mommy’s?” Emma asked, her face turned up to Grace’s.

  Looking into the child’s eyes, she was reminded how fragile life could be. A car accident, a few seconds of distraction or misjudgment had forever altered this little girl’s life. “No. Not better than your mommy’s. Nobody could do it better than she did,” Grace said as she took Emma’s hand and led her down the stairs. She hadn’t grabbed the pile of fabric she’d wanted, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. All she wanted to do was to keep Emma from being sad.

  “No. Mommy’s sandwiches were really, really good,” Emma said as she hopped down each step while still holding on to Grace’s hand. It was a bumpy trip down the stairs, and when they reached the bottom, Aidan was waiting.

  “Want to join us in the kitchen? I’m making peanut butter sandwiches for Emma and me,” she said to him, watching his eyes search her face, warming her heart.

  “I’ll make them,” Emma called out as she moved ahead of Grace.

  “You know how to do that?” Grace asked, her eyes still focused on Aidan.

  “Of course! Mommy showed me,” Emma said proudly, her tiny chin tucked into her chest.

  Grace and Aidan shrugged at each other. “Well, Grace, I guess it’s time for us to see what sort of culinary skills Emma has,” he said with a smile as they followed Emma down the hall toward the kitchen.

  “She has cried ever since we got here, until you arrived. How did you do that?” he asked, his fingers brushing hers.

  Grace looked into Aidan’s eyes and recognized pain and uncertainty, eagerness and caring, all in a glance. She wanted to touch him, to tell him everything would be oka
y for Emma and for them.

  But she knew it wasn’t that simple. If they were to make any of this work, they needed to take it slow, not say things that might end up being worthless a few days or weeks from now. “She cried a little while we were in her room, and I let her. She needed to cry. She’s missing her mom.”

  “And I can’t figure out how to help her,” he said, as they walked into the kitchen. His hand brushed hers, sending an exciting thrill up her arm.

  “Emma, your daddy is going to be your assistant and help you make the sandwiches. Is that okay?” Grace asked, at once pleased and lonely to be entering her kitchen. But she didn’t live here anymore, and might not ever live here again.

  “What’s an assistant?” Emma asked.

  “It’s the person who helps the person making a meal,” Aidan said, smiling his thanks to Grace as he went to the cupboard to get out a loaf of bread.

  “I do it,” Emma said, taking the bread and pulling the fridge open. Reaching into the shelf on the door, she took out the peanut butter.

  “Let me help you,” Grace offered.

  “Okay.” Emma put her arms up to be lifted onto a bar stool at the kitchen island.

  Grace got a knife out of a drawer. “Why don’t you lay out the bread slices, Daddy, while I get the jam? Then you can help Emma put the peanut butter and jam on the slices.”

  “Sounds great,” he said, helping Emma to spread the slices with a thick layer of peanut butter and jam.

  At the sight of her husband being so caring to his daughter, she had to turn away to hide her tears. When she turned after composing herself, Aidan was watching her.

  “Okay. Done.” Emma patted a sandwich until peanut butter oozed out of it.

  “I’ll put the sandwiches on plates and take them to the table,” Aidan said, his eyes still on Grace, making the heat rise in her cheeks. He took dishes from the shelf, his arm brushing against her as he moved around the kitchen.

  “What does everyone want to drink?” he said. “If we were not being observed by the princess, I would kiss you right about now,” he whispered, leaning closer as he opened the fridge.

  “I want milk,” Emma called from the table.

  “I’ll have water,” Lisa added.

  “What about you, Mrs. Fellowes?” Aidan said, continuing to whisper.

  “Water is fine,” Grace said, feeling the heat of his body, smelling the scent of his skin. She wished they were alone.

  “Daddy!” Emma called. “I want milk.”

  “Coming right up,” he said, pouring a glass.

  “This is the best,” Emma said excitedly as she munched on her sandwich.

  “You bet it is,” Grace said, glancing around the kitchen, feeling connected and happy.

  Yet, as it stood right now, she didn’t belong here. Although Aidan had been very kind and expressed his appreciation of her efforts, at no point did he say anything about their situation.

  When they finished eating, she put the dishes in the dishwasher, a simple act, but one that filled her with longing for all she’d lost. This wasn’t her home. It had been her choice to leave, and yet what had driven her out hadn’t changed.

  Feeling out of place, she slipped quietly upstairs to retrieve the materials she wanted. Returning to the kitchen she said goodbye to everyone. “I can see myself out,” she said, not wanting to interrupt the happy scene.

  “No. Wait.” Aidan came around the table. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “Do you know when Lucas will be back?” she asked, feeling awkward when they reached the door. Would he try to kiss her? If he did, what would she do?

  “He should be here tomorrow,” Aidan said, his eyes searching her face. “Grace, I would like a chance to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere tomorrow? Maybe for coffee?”

  “That would be nice,” she said, resisting the urge to move into his arms.

  “Grace, you were fantastic with Emma. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She fidgeted with the bag of fabric, and pushed the strap of her purse up her shoulder.

  Aidan shifted from one foot to the other, jamming his hands in his pockets as he did so. “I just want to say that I’m so sorry we never had a baby together. You are a fantastic parent. All this time you waited to do something that comes so easily and naturally to you. I can only imagine how painful it has been, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t more caring and didn’t support you the way I should have.”

  The expression on his face, the way his eyes searched hers made her see that he was sincere. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, to show her appreciation for his saying that, but she couldn’t. If she did, she’d cry, and she’d cried enough these past few weeks, endless days of wishing things had been different in their lives and in their marriage.

  More than anything, she wanted to talk about how difficult it had been for her, but that would have to wait until she was emotionally able to share everything with him and have him listen with his heart not his mind. She knew he was waiting for more, but she didn’t have anything she could offer him. “I’d better go.”

  “Can I call you tomorrow?” he asked as she opened the front door.

  “Yeah. That would be good.” She didn’t look back as she went down the walkway. She couldn’t. If she did, she would surely run to him, to his arms, to the life she’d lived for the past ten years as his wife.

  But that would mean she’d have to give up on her belief that he had to change, that he had to be willing to really listen to her. Being the one to relent, give in over an argument, had always been her style. She’d always taken the first step after any disagreement they’d ever had. She couldn’t this time. There was too much at stake, too much of who she was, who she believed herself to be, to be the one who offered to reconcile their differences.

  She opened the car door, placed her material on the passenger seat, climbed in and drove off into the lonely night.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  AIDAN CALLED THE next morning just moments after Grace had gotten out of bed. “It was great to see you yesterday. And I wondered if you might be available for coffee or tea this morning. I could bring coffee over if you’d like that.”

  Stifling a yawn, she said, “Don’t you think it’s a little early? I just got up.”

  “You never sleep in. Are you all right?” he asked, concern evident in his tone.

  She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d lain awake for hours last night, missing him lying beside her, reaching for him knowing he wasn’t there. Waking up to an empty condo with no one to talk to, to share things with, had been heart wrenching. It all felt so final somehow, so awful. She didn’t want to live like this, but she needed Aidan to change his attitude where she was concerned. She needed him to really see her and not simply the things she could do for him to make his life better.

  “I’m fine. I slept in a little bit, that’s all. I used to do that when you were away on business, or don’t you remember?”

  “Yeah, now that you mention it I do remember calling you when I was away on business and waking you up.” He gave a low chuckle. “So, what do you say? Will we go out for coffee or will I bring it over to the condo?”

  She needed somewhere quiet to talk to him. “Why don’t you come over here?”

  “Great. I’ll bring coffee and your favorite banana muffin and be there in a few minutes. Can’t wait to see you, Grace,” he said, his voice thick.

  “Me, too,” she said before hanging up the phone.

  She rushed through a shower and was about to apply a little blush and eye shadow when the doorbell rang. “I’m coming,” she called out as she strode toward the door. When she opened it, Aidan stood there holding a bouquet of her favorite yellow roses and a cardboard carrier with two coffees and a bag of muffins.

  “Grace Fellowes, I want this to be our first date of ou
r new life together,” he said, passing her the roses.

  She took the flowers as her eyes met his. “It’s been a while since we had a first date.”

  “Eighteen years, four months and thirteen days, to be exact,” he said, following her to the kitchen.

  “You have a better memory than I do,” she said, putting the roses in a vase and adding water, all the while delighted that he’d remembered with such accuracy.

  “I wanted to impress you, so I did the math and counted up the time. We met when we were sixteen. We’ve been together for over half our lives.”

  “Leave it to the engineer to figure that out,” she said, seeing the ardent expression on his face.

  “Grace, I’ve missed you. I can’t live like this anymore. You have to come home. Please.”

  She wanted him to cross the kitchen floor and kiss her senseless, but she knew if he did, she would give in and move home with nothing being resolved. As much as she wanted her husband, she couldn’t go back to the way it was.

  “First we have to talk, really talk, about what has gone on in the past few weeks.” She took the coffee and muffins to the table.

  “Anything.” He sat across from her, took the lid off her coffee and slid it across to her before opening the bag and passing her a muffin with a napkin. “First, I’d just like to say how much I appreciated you coming over last night. Lisa and I were at our wits’ end. And the peanut-butter thing was pure genius. Emma asked where you were when she was having her bath and went to bed without a tear.”

  He took a sip of his coffee. “Emma got up this morning and was her old sweet self. Of course, yesterday was a difficult day for her. I should have realized that it was too much, but I really felt that getting here was the best solution.”

  “To what?” she asked, hoping to get him to talk about them, about what was going on in their lives. She was eager for him to express his concern for her and how she was coping with all of this, if only to have him recognize how much of her time had been devoted to him, and would be, if only he’d include her in his plans.

  “To this. Us living apart. Everyone is talking at the office about what is going on. They know about Emma and naturally are asking about you and how you’re doing.”