When Ophelia came home, she dropped her backpack, saw her mother and stood there, dumbfounded.
“Hey, baby,” Kaitlyn said, opening her arms.
“Mama!” Ophelia shouted, then bolted to Kaitlyn and flung herself into her mother’s arms, sobbing.
“Oh, baby, I missed you so much!” Katie was crying, too, and Melissa couldn’t keep her own tears from flowing, either.
It was a lovely scene. It wasn’t that her sister was a bad person. But she just wasn’t mother material. Ophelia was Melissa’s, and there was no way in hell she’d let Kaitlyn take her. No way Melissa was going to let Ophelia Harmony Spencer Finch become Harminee Fawn Cumbo once more.
CHAPTER 26
Lillie
Dylan went back home on January 23, and I gave myself a week to be melancholy and weepy, then got my shit together. It had been a good visit. He did not sleep over at Bralissa’s, though he had dinner there twice and informed me they had a chef bring dinner every day. Every day! He liked Ophelia and said the house was “huge and white” （which I knew from breaking and entering）。 Otherwise, he offered no commentary, which was mature and irritating.
He also told me about his classes, his grades （two As, an A minus and a B minus . . . pretty good, all things considered）。 He loved being on the football team, even when they did drills in the snow. The coach had said he might start next year if he worked on reading the plays a little better, but that his speed and defense were great. Dylan described the vast, glorious skies over Montana, and the day he and Chloe had driven to Flathead National Forest and had parked and gone for a hike, the wonder they felt when they saw a wolf not twenty feet away, staring at them. He was considering spending a summer out there, working at Yellowstone or Glacier National Park, and I couldn’t blame him.
And he would be home for the summer, but he was also going to fly to Spain for a week with Chloe’s family.
I was so happy. No. I was joyful. Take that, Brad! I’d always had joy, and its name was spelled D-Y-L-A-N.
But it wasn’t just Dylan. I’d forced myself to be more social these past few months, since I didn’t have the family I once did. After Beatrice had gone back to France, I had Hannah sleep over so she could be near Dylan and cry on my shoulder. Beth and Wanda and I did things more regularly, and I’d gone back to yoga after making sure Melissa didn’t use the same place.
One morning at work a few weeks after Dylan’s break ended, my cell phone rang. Elizabeth Coughlin. Thirty-nine weeks, four days. “Lillie Silva,” I said, already smiling.
“Hi, Lillie.” It was her husband, Tom. “Contractions are every seven or eight minutes, have been for a couple hours. My mom’s here to take care of Willow, so we’re ready to go if you give us the green light. Elizabeth says she’s done laboring at home.”
Because they lived in Truro and the hospital was an hour away, I said, “Sounds good to me. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Don’t speed, Tom!” I hung up, told Wanda that Elizabeth was in labor, and patted Carol on the head as I left.
I made it before them and stopped at the nurses’ station to chat with Tonya, the admin who ran the unit.
“What have we got today, Lillie?” she asked.
“Gravida two, thirty-nine weeks and four days, steady contractions. Mama’s name is Elizabeth, Daddy is Tom. No preexisting conditions, first baby came easily with no pain meds. Pregnancy has been picture-perfect, baby was head down and ready to go when we saw her Monday in the office.” In other words, all signals were go.
“Another baby today,” came a voice, followed by a heavy sigh, as if the birthing center produced calves or ducklings. It was, of course, Carline Schneider, ob-gyn, hater of pregnant women. She really needed to retire. “Where are we putting her? I’ll have to check her, I suppose.”
“No, no. Please have a nap or something. We’ll call you if we need you,” I said. Yes, there had to be an obstetrician at the hospital 24/7 in case of an obstetrical emergency, such as an unplanned C-section or postpartum hemorrhage. No, Carline didn’t need to helicopter around, telling the patient （and me） we were doing everything wrong.
Then the elevator dinged, and there they were. Elizabeth was walking slowly and a little hunched over, but she smiled when she saw me.
“The big day is upon us!” I said, hugging them both. “Let’s get you to your room and we can see where you are.”
“She doesn’t look full term to me,” Carline said. “Were the ultrasounds okay? That baby looks to be mighty small. Microcephaly, maybe?”