“How’s she doing?” Otto asked. “Can I hold her yet?”
Edith grinned. “We’ve had her out a couple of times. She needed a bath and we’ve been monitoring her weight. Her reflexes are good. The big concern was her lungs, but she appears to have good function. Her oxygen levels are good.”
“What about the toxins?” Rachel asked, not taking her eyes off the baby.
Edith glanced at Otto and gave him a little shrug. “We didn’t find any in her blood. The neurotoxin would have metabolized quickly. It wouldn’t have lasted long, even if she’d gotten some through the placental barrier.”
Rachel straightened up and turned to Edith. “So, wait and see?”
“Hope for the best. Any cognitive issues won’t show up for years, if at all. Kids are resilient little buggers. It’s amazing what they’ll rebound from.” Edith sighed and gazed into the crib. “I wish I could tell you something better.”
“Can you tell me how long it’ll take you to get her out of there so I can hold her?” Otto asked.
Edith chuckled and slid the lexan open. “Have at it.”
The small squirming bundle in the bassinet let out a squall—short, almost tentative—and kicked her right foot several times.
Rachel stepped back and motioned to Otto. “Come on, Dad. You get dibs.”
Otto caught the glistening in his mother’s eyes as he moved up to look at his daughter for the first time without a pane of plastic between them. He reached in and scooped her up, one hand behind her shoulders and the other under her butt. Nearly her whole upper body fit in his hand, and he marveled. The world spoke to him in the wide eyes of his daughter and he stood there, holding her, listening.
She opened her mouth and squawked again. Louder, more certain. She seemed almost surprised by her own noise.
Otto watched her eyes roll around, her head turning slightly. “Can she see me?” he asked.
“She probably can’t focus on anything more than a hand’s width away right now,” Edith said.
Otto held her close to his face. “Well, good morning to you, too.”
She stilled in his hands and gazed up at him.
Otto felt his mother looking over his shoulder and he turned so she could see better. “She looks so much like Carla, I can’t get over it,” he said.
Rachel gave a little laugh. “I don’t think Carla was pink and wrinkly.”
“I’m sure she was at some point,” Edith said standing back, lounging against the wall.
Rachel nodded. “True, but I never saw her that way.”
“You know what I mean,” Otto said.
“Yes, Otto. I know.”
He turned to his mother and offered the bundle to her. “You wanna hold her a minute?”
Her eyes lit up and she gave an eager little nod. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Otto handed Sarah off to Rachel and turned to Edith. “Thank you.”
Edith shuffled her feet and gave a little shrug. “Just doin’ my job. We don’t get that many real little ones here in Cape Grace. She’s a sweetie.”
“I can’t get over how tiny ...” Rachel held the baby up to her face the way Otto had. “You’re so cute, but I bet you’re going to be a clever thing like your daddy. Yes, I do.”
“It’s almost time for her midmorning snack. Would you like to do the honors?” Edith asked.
Rachel turned to Otto. “Here. You should do this one. It’s the first time for you.”
Otto took the baby and Edith pointed to a comfy chair.
“I’ll go get her bottle. Won’t be but a tick.”
Otto settled into the chair, sliding his daughter into the crook of his arm. “You sure you don’t want to do this?” he asked, looking up at his mother.
She sucked her lips in between her teeth and shook her head, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’ll get a chance before I head back. This one’s yours.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth, her eyes beaming at him even as the tears seeped out and down her cheeks.
Edith came back with a bottle and handed it to Otto. “Should be the right temp. Drop a little on the inside of your wrist. See what it feels like.”
He upended the small bottle and sprinkled a few drops onto his skin. “It doesn’t feel very warm. You sure it’s right?”
Edith grinned. “Yep. If it felt hot, that would probably be a warning sign. Your skin temp there is a little lower than core temp. You’ll get the feel for it as you go. If it feels hot, don’t give it to her right away. Most babies seem to like it warmish, but too hot can burn them.”
Otto settled in and soon had Sarah sucking on the bottle. Peace settled around him like a heavy quilt on a chilly day. A warm kernel of comfort joined the cold lump in his chest. In what seemed like only moments the small bottle of formula emptied into the tiny mouth.
“Where does she put it?” Otto asked as he pulled the bottle away. He held up the empty and looked down at Sarah. “Doesn’t seem like there’s enough room in there for all that.”
Edith laughed. “It wasn’t that much. She’ll need to eat again shortly.”
“You should burp her,” Rachel said.
Otto pressed the empty bottle into Edith’s outstretched hand and fumbled Sarah upright on his chest. A couple of gentle pats achieved the desired result and by the time he lowered her again, her eyelids drooped.
Rachel smiled down at him and held out her hands. “Warm belly, sleepy baby. Here, let me put her back for you.”
Otto passed the tiny bundle off and stood, his knees a little shaky, his own eyes feeling droopy.
With Sarah safely ensconced in the incubator once more, Edith ushered them out to the lobby. “If she keeps improving at this rate, she’ll be ready for release in a few more days. Are you ready for her, Otto?”
The question stunned Otto. “Ready? I thought it would be at least another week.”
Edith shrugged. “The sooner you can get her out of here and into your care, the better it’ll be for her. What do you need?”
Otto’s brain seemed to short circuit. “I have no idea.” He turned to Rachel. “Crib? Food? Bottles? Diapers?”
“Clothes?” Rachel asked. “Hat and jammies at a minimum. Sleepers.”
“Baby-strength shampoo and soap. You might consider a carrier for when you want to go out.” Edith pursed her lips and squinted her eyes for a moment. “Normally I’d suggest a stroller, but it needs a solid flat surface.”
“You wouldn’t be able to use it on the beach,” Rachel said. “It might be useful when coming into town.”
“How do you get supplies out to the cottage now?” Edith asked. “That’s a bit of a hike if you need a liter of milk.”
“Chandlery delivers. Carla and I—” Otto’s throat clogged up on him. “We keep a list. Put in an order once a week. Marty’s boy runs it over in the jitney when they get a chance.”
“There ya go,” Edith said. “Chandlery has anything you’d need.”
Otto’s mind pulled up the image of a suntanned and wind-chapped fisherman in the chandlery ordering a hundred meters of net and two cases of diapers. “I’m guessing that’s not listed under ship fittings.”
Edith laughed.
Rachel hid her grin behind a hand. “Household goods. Misc,” she said. “I can show you when we get back to the cottage.”
“Fair warning. We don’t have that many infants in town,” Edith said. “You’ll want to make sure you stay ahead of the ordering because Marty’s not going to have a lot in stock at any given time. It may take a day or two for him to get what you need in from the Inlet.”
“How much is enough?” Otto asked. He looked down into the incubator at his daughter. “She doesn’t look like she’d eat much.”
“She’ll make up for it in frequency,” Edith said. “Formula has a long shelf life. Get three of the large cans. When you open the second one, order another.”
“Diapers?”
“Get the recyclables. They come in standard packs based o
n age and gender. She’ll take the newborn size for a while. Same deal. Get three packs, at least to start. When you open the second, order another. You’ll have a good feel for it in a couple of weeks.”
Rachel touched Otto’s arm. “We should let Edith get on with her duties. I’ve been around this harbor before. I can help you get started.”
Edith grinned. “I don’t mind. I love having the little ones here.”
“You have any of your own?” Rachel asked.
Edith gave a little shake of her head. “Not yet, anyway. Haven’t found any worthy DNA donors.”
Rachel chuckled and patted her on the arm. “You’ve plenty of time for that.”
“We’ll see.” Edith turned and led them back to the lobby. “This time tomorrow?”
Rachel cast a look at Otto. “What time’s the service?”
“Meeting at the chapel at 1400,” Otto said.
“The company has it covered,” Edith added. She looked to Otto. “Will you want to speak?”
“Speak?”
“You know. Say anything at the service?”
The thought of it made Otto curl up inside. “I don’t think I can.”
Edith gave him a gentle smile. “No need to. There’ll be plenty who will and if you change your mind, nobody’ll say boo.”
They stepped out into the late morning sun. The warmth of the sun carried the promise of summer. Otto felt it warming the trousers against his legs.
Rachel hooked her arm through his and started walking slowly down the street. “These next couple of days will be the hardest.” She seemed to be looking anywhere but at Otto. “Get through them and you’ll be on the mend.”
“I miss her already.”
She made a little hmm of agreement and patted his arm. “You always will.” After a few steps she said, “You’ll never get over her, but it will get better. Eventually, you’ll remember only the good times.”
“Sarah will remind me every day,” Otto said.
“Think that’ll be a blessing or a curse?” She looked at him, an eyebrow raised and her head tilted to the side.
“Probably a bit of both.”
She patted his arm again and nodded. “Probably so.”
CHAPTER THREE
Cape Grace: May 15, 2329
THE CHAPEL WITH ITS high, arching ceiling and subdued lighting made Otto feel small. The press of people—fishermen, townies, and assorted families—crushed in on him. Sweat ran down his back under his shirt from the heat and moisture of too many people in too small a space.
He stood beside a large photo of her at the front of the room. In the image she stood at the wheel of her boat, leaning out of the wheelhouse window. Wind blew her jaw-length brown hair back from her face. The sun caught her smile and twinkled in her eyes. It wasn’t how Otto remembered her.
During the long fishing season, he shared her with the company. Long hours. Short nights. Meals grabbed on the go. Boat problems. Weather problems. People problems. Always some kind of problem. Always some distraction over which he had no control. He could only look on from the outside and offer what simple comforts he could. A home-cooked meal after a long day, a hot bath before a short night, and a hurried kiss before another departure.
He knew her best in winter when the short, frozen days and long, frigid nights kept them curled around each other on the small divan. They’d read or talk. Sometimes just sit quietly and say nothing, listening to the wind whistling outside, basking in the glow of a wood fire in the small stove. The look in her eye when she’d pull him up from the couch and lead him back to their bed.
When the last hand shook his, the last hug had been offered and accepted. When the last of the speakers had said his piece and the attendees had gone, Otto sat staring at the photo and the brushed steel container beside it. He sat there for a long time, but didn’t know how long. It seemed long. The bare bench against his butt-bones told him it had been too long. Still he couldn’t get up to leave.
A shadow sat beside him in the dim, shifting light. “D’ya want some company?”
He glanced over to see Frank Mannetti slouched on the bench. Otto shrugged. “Sure. No. I don’t know.”
Frank said, “Heh.”
They sat there for some amount of time. Long enough for the shadows to shift on the walls.
“Wanna talk about it?” Frank asked finally.
Otto shook his head. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Me, either. Just thought maybe the two guys who loved her the most might ... I don’t know. Have something to say to each other.”
Otto thought for a moment, his eyes trying to find the woman he knew in the photo that wasn’t the one he remembered. “I told her I loved her. That morning. Before.”
Frank clapped him on the shoulder. “All we can do, I s’pose. Tell ’em we love ’em.”
Otto turned to look at Frank’s craggy, lined face. “She loved fishing.”
“She loved you, too.”
Otto nodded. “You see the baby?”
“Yep. Georgina made me stop there first. Cute li’l bugger. Has her mother’s eyes.”
Otto chuckled. “I thought so, too.”
“You’re gonna have your hands full with that one, Otto. Mark my words.”
Otto nodded, unable to speak.
Frank shifted his seat and stared off into space. “What I remember about Carly. She always had her own mind. Once she set her course, nobody’d shift it. Tony, now. Tony’d go whichever way the wind took him. For a while there he thought he wanted to be a fisherman, then a shuttle pilot, then a cook, then I don’t even remember what.” A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Nance straightened him out in good shape.” He paused as if gathering his thoughts. “Carly always wanted to be a fisherman. Set her sights on being a fishing boat skipper. Nothin’ and nobody got in her way.”
Otto nodded and looked over at Frank again.
Frank met his eyes. “What I’m tryin’ to say is she died doin’ what she loved. She lived the life she loved.”
Otto sighed. “Yeah. That she did.”
“You need to do the same, Otto.”
Frank’s words took Otto by surprise. “I am.”
Frank rolled his tongue around in his mouth a bit, like he didn’t like the taste of his own words. “Your life isn’t over, son. She’s gone, but you’re still here and you got a lot of livin’ to do yet.”
“I know that. Everybody dies eventually. It’s part of the deal we get for being here.”
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, hell. I don’t know.” Frank’s mouth twisted into a sideways grin. “We’re here for ya, if you need us, Otto. Georgina and me? We’re here.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. I suspect I’ll have a lot to do over the next little while. Sarah’s not exactly out of the woods yet.”
“Course she’s not. You’ll do good by her, I got faith in ya.”
“As long as I have Sarah, I’ve got a little piece of Carla left.”
Frank chuckled again. “You hold onto that thought for now, but there’s a lesson coming down the road for ya.”
“What’s that?”
“Kids grow up and expect to have lives of their own. There’ll come a day.”
“Of course. It’s how things go,” Otto said.
Frank looked at him silently for a few moments. “When the kids left, Georgina and I had a chance to get reacquainted, so to speak.” His eyebrows lifted as if in question. “We’d had twenty-something stanyers where the kids and the business and the living took precedent over everything else. Until suddenly, it didn’t.”
“Sounds nice,” Otto said.
“It is nice.” Frank stared into Otto’s eyes for several heartbeats. “Be thinkin’ about how that’ll be for you.”
The older man’s words struck home in Otto’s chest somewhere. Unable to speak, he nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and stared at the floor between his boots, as if considering the scuffed flooring—b
ut not really seeing anything.
“A few of the boys and girls are getting together down at the Saving Grace to hoist a few in Carly’s memory. You’re welcome to come if you’ve a mind.”
Otto nodded, his head bobbing on his neck, but he didn’t look up. “Thanks. I’m not exactly fit company right now.” In truth he didn’t feel like a part of that side of her life. The “boys and girls” would need their own space to grieve the loss.
“No problem. Just wanted to let ya know you’re invited if you’ve a mind.”
“Thanks. You staying in town long?” He glanced over at the older man.
“We’ll be here for a few days. Taking the tram back on the eighteenth.”
“Oh, good. Sarah should be coming out of the incubator around then. Stay in touch.”
Frank clapped Otto’s shoulder. “Will do. Georgina wouldn’t let me leave without a visit.”
Otto sniffed a small laugh. “A lot like Carla, eh?”
“Yeah. She came by it honestly.” Frank stood and stretched. “See you in a bit, then.”
Otto held up a hand and Frank shook it. “Say hi for me,” Otto said.
Otto sat there for a long time after Frank left, trying to listen to the world around the empty silence inside himself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cape Grace: June 22, 2329
OTTO STOOD ON THE TRAM platform, basking in the warm afternoon sun. Sarah snuggled against his chest, held in a baby sling and half wrapped in his great coat. A whiff of saltwater and fish wafted across the platform in the onshore breeze, momentarily masking the baby smell rising from inside the wool.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” Rachel asked, peeking down at the sleeping baby.
“You asking her or me?”
Rachel chuckled. “All right. You seem like you’re coping. I admit it.”
“Sleep would be nice, but we don’t have any pressing social engagements on our calendar. I’ve got enough driftwood and whelkies to keep me busy all summer.” He shrugged. “We should be fine.”
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