“Promise,” she said. “You’ve got to promise.”
“I promise,” I said, and she vanished through the section doors.
* * *
—
I SUPPOSE IT WAS UNDERSTANDABLE that Evangeline was reluctant to leave me in charge of Emma. In the prior week, I’d worked hard to take care of household chores but had done little to instill confidence in my baby-management skills. If Emma so much as whimpered, I’d thrust her back to Evangeline.
We arrived home at four thirty, too early to call Lorrie. I put Emma down and managed a few hours of sleep myself, returning to the hospital before Evangeline was out of surgery. The repair went well, though Evangeline returned to the room woozy and slept much of the afternoon.
I held Emma a good eight hours that day. During that time, she and I came to an understanding. She would gaze at me with wonder-filled eyes, she would share her heartfelt pain and hunger and moments of baby bliss, she would treat me as a familiar—not the slightest bit embarrassed by any of her bodily functions—and she would bless me by sleeping contentedly in my arms. I, in turn, would love her.
Late that afternoon, when Evangeline was fully lucid and had fed the baby, she kissed one of Emma’s tiny hands and said, “I’m surprised Lorrie hasn’t come by. Isn’t this her day off?”
“She’s got a lot on her plate,” I said.
“What’d she say when you called?”
I hesitated.
“You didn’t call?” She was incredulous. “After you promised?”
“I can handle Emma.”
Her face snapped with anger. “You act like you’re the only person who lost a child. Well, you’re not!”
“What does that have to do—”
“You blame her. You blame Lorrie for Daniel’s death.”
“No. I don’t blame her. Not for that.”
“What then? Tell me.”
“I’m not getting into that.”
She studied me a long time, and I had a feeling she knew more than she let on. “So,” she said, “whatever this thing is between you two, you’re going to keep Lorrie from me? From Emma? We have to pay the price?”
“And what about me?” I said, the sharpness of my tone surprising me. “What about this ‘thing’ you have with Lorrie, this insistence on forcing me to see her? It’s about Jonah, isn’t it? Because he’s the father?”
If a whisper can be a scream, she managed it, “No! Oh my God. The baby isn’t Jonah’s. It isn’t Daniel’s. You know that.”
I repeated her words in my head, and even then I didn’t understand. “Jonah isn’t the father?”
“You know that. You asked about the due date, and I told you.”
I thought back. “You told me Daniel wasn’t the father. I assumed it was Jonah. I never knew of anyone else. How would I?”
Even as I said this, I realized how my behavior the past week was all the more despicable for it. I saw my rage at Lorrie for having a grandchild when I did not, saw how I’d wanted to deprive her of the child in punishment for her son having deprived me of mine.
Evangeline, who had tensed forward, relaxed back. “Okay. Yeah. I guess I never told you too much about that.”
“Does Lorrie know neither boy is the father?”
She nodded. “That day you came to the hospital and found us talking. I told her then.”
“She didn’t tell me.”
Evangeline frowned. “You hardly look at her. You know that, right? You used to at least fake being nice, but now you don’t even do that. You’re just plain rude to her. Besides, she said I needed to tell you. That same afternoon you asked about the due date, and I told you. Lorrie doesn’t care who the father is. She still loves me. She loves the baby.”
I wanted to ask about the father. She must have seen it in me, because she said, “The father isn’t around, and he won’t be. Call Lorrie if you need to know more, tell her I said it was okay for her to tell you. And while you’re at it, decide if you’re going to let Lorrie and Nells into our lives. And I don’t just mean letting her stop by for two minutes to drop off a salad. You have to decide if you’re going to force me to choose. Because I will, you know. Choose.”
She stopped, tucked the blanket around the squirming baby. “I want you to go now.”
I stood but didn’t turn to leave. Evangeline wiped some drool from Emma’s chin.
“Well?”
“I need to bring Emma home, remember?”
Evangeline glared at me. “She’s going home with Lorrie tonight.”
“Lorrie doesn’t even know you’re here. It might not be a good time for her.”
She thought about that. “I’ll call her as soon as you leave. Do you think for a second she won’t come? If you’re worried about Emma being a burden to her, if you really are, then call her and work something out.”
“It’s not that simple.”
She shook her head and refocused on the baby. I waited for her to relent. When she didn’t, an agitation—something near panic—attacked my lungs, made it hard to breathe.
“How about this,” I said. “When you talk to her, ask her to stop by the house with Emma tonight.”
“I’m not going to do that,” she said, not bothering to look up.
“You’re being unreasonable. What more do you want of me?”
Evangeline started humming to the baby. When it became clear she would refuse to further acknowledge me, I said firmly, “That baby needs me.”
She looked at me then, searched my face. I think she was trying to decide whether I’d insulted her. She must have seen the truth, that I needed the baby at least as much as the baby needed me.
In the end, she said, “Maybe she does. All the more reason you need to get your shit together.”
72
Evangeline held Emma high before her. After a second, the baby’s eyes half closed, her mother having disappeared into the blur of distance. “Baby,” Evangeline whispered.
Emma’s eyes widened and tried to focus, so Evangeline drew her closer, and closer again, until Emma’s gaze hooked into hers with surprise, as if her mother had appeared out of nowhere.
“Lorrie is coming,” she said. “We should give her a name, shouldn’t we? Nana? Mimi? Got any ideas?”
The baby blinked, and Evangeline nestled her against her chest, breathed in her sweet baby smell, as intoxicating as sun-dried cotton. “We’ll come up with something. We’ll ask Lorrie what she’d like, okay?”
A floor nurse came in, the one who seemed in charge of aggravating patients. She began setting up an infusion of antibiotics. “This little one’s going home, right? I saw Isaac leave ten minutes ago.”
“Emma’s going home with Lorrie tonight. She’ll be here any minute.”
The nurse stopped her bustling, placed a gentle palm against the baby’s back, and said, “You have a lot of people who love you, don’t you, little girl?”
Evangeline didn’t mind the nurse so much after that.
* * *
—
SHE HADN’T PLANNED TO SEND ISAAC AWAY WITHOUT THE BABY. But she had trusted him to tell Lorrie she was here. Things had gotten serious. She had almost died. Yes, she’d told Isaac she wasn’t going to, but that was because he was a mess and she needed him to calm down for Emma’s sake.