Once Kelsey had finished the bottle, Paul held her over his shoulder again and rubbed her back. Gently rocking back and forth, he closed his eyes. He’d rest for a few minutes…he told himself.
Just a few minutes…
Saturday morning, when Leah let herself into the house that had once been her sister’s, she found her brother-in-law asleep in the rocking chair, his arms cradling Kelsey.
She hesitated, not wanting to disturb him. He’d been so tired lately. They both had.
Too tired to grieve.
Too tired to do anything more than simply function, taking one step at a time, dragging from one day to the next. Moving forward, because they had no choice.
Even now, six months after her sister’s death, Leah had trouble accepting the permanence of the situation. More often than she could count, Leah expected Diane to come into the room, bringing her warm smile and effervescent personality. How empty life felt without her. Empty for her.
For Paul.
For the children.
Then some days it was as if Diane was actually there. At the oddest times Leah could almost feel her sister standing beside her, thanking her for helping, for encouraging Paul.
And then there was the dream.
Leah had never told her brother-in-law about it. She’d never told anyone. It had come the night Diane died.
Paul and Leah had been at the hospital with her sister for three days, and there hadn’t been any change in Diane’s condition. Dr. Charman had insisted they both go home and get some sleep. Nothing was likely to happen for some time yet, he’d told them. Paul had been as reluctant to leave as Leah had, but in the end they’d both agreed.
Leah had gone to her apartment, showered and fallen into bed. She’d slept deeply, and in her dream Diane had come to her, walking through a field of wildflowers. She was barefoot and happy. Then she’d stood under a flowering magnolia tree and looked at Leah. A brilliant white light had settled above her. Diane had smiled into the light, and although Leah couldn’t hear what her sister was saying, it had seemed to her that Diane was requesting a few more minutes. She’d then turned from the radiant light and smiled at Leah.
Holding a daisy, plucking at the petals, she’d told Leah how sorry she was to leave her, to leave Paul and the children. Leah had tried to interrupt, but Diane had stopped her. Her sister had explained how hard she’d battled to live, then said she’d come to understand that there was a greater wisdom in accepting death.
The problem, she whispered, was that she couldn’t freely give up her life with Paul and Leah holding on to her the way they were. Holding her back. The strength of their love and their will kept her with them, prevented her from dying. It was the reason they’d been sent home. Once they were gone, she would be free.
Leah had tried to argue with her, but Diane had smiled serenely and shaken her head, claiming there wasn’t enough time. She’d spoken quickly, pointing out to Leah that Paul and the children would need her help. Looking directly into Leah’s eyes, she’d smiled again and asked if Leah would be willing to take her place. Leah hadn’t understood then and wasn’t sure she did now, but in the end she’d promised to do whatever was needed.
The next instant Leah had awakened. For a confused moment she’d lain there in bed, certain it had all been a dream. Only a dream. Yes, Diane was at the hospital and it was true that her condition was serious, but her sister wasn’t going to die. No one had even mentioned the possibility. Quickly Leah had gotten out of bed and rushed back to the hospital to discover that Paul was already there with Dr. Charman.
Her sister was gone.
The dream had haunted Leah for months. She’d kept her promise to Diane and was doing everything she could to help Paul with the children, but it seemed so little.
To his credit, Paul was holding up well. He was such a good father. But Leah wondered how much longer he’d be able to continue under the strain. All along, he’d been the strong one, reassuring her, reassuring his children, his parents and everyone else.
Leah didn’t know how he did it. But she was grateful. His confidence was the glue that held everything together. It kept them all going—Leah, his family, everyone who was trying to help. Paul’s mother took the children during the day. The cost of day care for three preschoolers was outrageous. When Paul told Leah the quotes he’d gotten from several child-care facilities, she’d thought he was joking. He couldn’t survive financially paying those fees.
Because Paul’s hours at the newspaper often stretched past six o’clock, Leah had gotten into the habit of picking up Kelsey and the boys at his mother’s place on her way home from the college, where she taught math. Since the kids were invariably hungry, she’d start dinner. She’d also run a load or two of laundry and do whatever else she could to lighten Paul’s obligations.
For six months they’d all worked together, more or less coping with everything that needed to be done. Leah, however, was growing concerned. Elizabeth Manning was a wonderful woman, but she hadn’t been responsible for small children in many years, and the demands of caring for three of them were beginning to take their toll. Not only that, the older Mannings had been planning a trip to Montana to visit Paul’s two sisters. Christy was pregnant with her first child, and Elizabeth Manning was hoping to be with her youngest daughter for the birth of her child.
Paul was as concerned about the situation as Leah was. Even more so. But she didn’t know what he intended to do. The problem was, he probably didn’t either.
What could he do?
“Mommy!” Four-year-old Ryan, the older—by ten minutes—of the identical twins, came out from their bedroom, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He dragged his security blanket on the carpet behind him.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Leah said, lifting his warm little body into her arms.
“I want my mommy.” Ryan’s arms clasped her neck tightly.
“I know.” Her voice caught as she spoke.
“When’s she coming home?”
“Your mommy’s in heaven now, remember?”
“But when will she come back?”
Unexpected tears filled Leah’s eyes. “She won’t…. Don’t you remember what your daddy said?”
“But I want her to.”
“I do, too.” It was difficult to make Ryan and Ronnie understand, difficult to understand herself. And it didn’t seem to be getting any easier.
Diane had had a husband, children, responsibilities. Her sister had been full of life and laughter. Her death made no sense to Leah. None.
Diane was blond, pretty, animated, energetic. Leah was tall and ungainly, and she lacked Diane’s confidence and vivacity. At five-eight she was a full five inches taller than her younger sister had been. Her hair was a pale brown, and unlike Diane’s beautiful blue eyes, hers were an indeterminate color, somewhere between green and brown depending on what she wore. Diane had been the striking one in the family.
Diane had also been the only family Leah had. Their parents had divorced when they were young, and their mother had died several years ago. They’d lost contact with their father in their teens. Any aunts, uncles, cousins, had long since faded from view.
“Are you hungry?” Leah asked Ryan, turning the conversation away from the painful subject of Diane.
Ryan’s head was buried in her shoulder. He sniffled and nodded. “Can you make Egg McManning the way Mommy did?”
“Ah…” Leah hesitated. She had no idea what Egg McManning was. “Sure, but you’ll have to show me how.”
“Okay.” Ryan brightened a little. “First you cook eggs and cheese and muffins, then you put everything together and eat it.”
“Oh…” Leah was going to need a few more instructions than that. Diane had had an active imagination. She could make the most mundane chores fun and the simplest meal a feast.
“I’m hungry.” Ronnie wandered out of his bedroom and into the kitchen. With both hands, he pulled out the kitchen chair, then climbed up onto the seat. He stuc
k his thumb in his mouth.
“Aunt Leah’s making Egg McManning,” Ryan told him.
“Good.” The thumb left his mouth long enough to say that one word.
Until Diane’s death Ronnie had given up sucking his thumb, but he’d started again. Leah hadn’t suggested he stop and wouldn’t for a while. Life had already landed him a harsh blow; she wasn’t about to chastise him because he needed a little extra comfort.
“Did I hear someone mention Egg McManning for breakfast?” Paul stood in the kitchen doorway, Kelsey on his shoulder, sleeping soundly.
“Aunt Leah’s making them for us,” Ryan explained solemnly.
“I hope you’ll share the recipe with me,” she muttered under her breath.
“Toast English muffins,” Paul said between yawns, “add some scrambled egg, a slice of cheese and voilà.” He pressed his free hand to his mouth, stifling another yawn. “How long have you been here?”
“Only a few minutes.” Leah had her back to him, searching the contents of the refrigerator for a carton of eggs.
“I thought you couldn’t come until noon today.”
“I lied,” she said over her shoulder, giving him a quick grin. “I cleaned up my place last night and figured I’d get a head start with the kids this morning.” She set the eggs, muffins and cheese on the counter. “I thought Ryan and Ronnie might enjoy a trip to the zoo.” Out of the corner of her eye she watched for the twins’ reaction.
“The zoo?” Ronnie asked excitedly. “With lions and tigers and bears?”
“Didn’t you have a date last night?” Paul asked, frowning.
“I was too tired to go out.” She grabbed a skillet that had been left to dry in the rack next to the sink and set it on the stove.
“If you were so tired, where’d you find the energy to clean house?”
Paul was like that sometimes. Leah guessed it was the reporter in him. He’d prod until he got the answer he already knew to be the truth.
“If I were you,” she said, waving a spatula at him, “I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
“I know what you’re doing.” Fierce pride brightened his blue eyes.
“So do I,” she countered smoothly. “I’m cooking breakfast for two hungry little boys.”
Kelsey woke and started whimpering. Leah got the impression that Paul would’ve preferred to continue their conversation, but didn’t know which to do first, deal with his daughter or talk to Leah. “But—”
“I’ll heat her bottle for you,” she offered, cutting off his reply.
Paul looked haggard. She’d purposely come to the house early so he could have part of the day to himself. The guy was exhausted. They all were. But for Leah there was an escape. At the end of the day she went home to her apartment, free from the demands of three small, needy children. A place of her own where she could find peace and privacy. Paul had no such deliverance.
Breakfast was ready when he returned with a freshly diapered Kelsey. He’d taken the time to dress in jeans and a sweatshirt, Leah saw, glancing in his direction.
She set three plates on the table and reached for Kelsey, tucking the baby in her arms and smiling as she eagerly began to gulp down her formula.
“You’re ruining your social life,” Paul said, biting into the muffin as though it had been days since his last meal.
“No, I’m not.” There wasn’t any social life to ruin, Leah thought. She only dated occasionally. Rob was a friend and would never be anything more. They had a good time together, but canceling an evening with him wasn’t a big deal.
“You should’ve gone out last night,” Paul said stubbornly.
“I wasn’t in the mood.” She stroked the side of Kelsey’s face, her heart constricting as she noticed her resemblance to Diane. The little chin, the shape of her ears…
“Leah, please don’t.”
The earnestness in Paul’s voice caught her attention. Slowly she lifted her eyes to his.
“I feel guilty enough knowing what this is doing to my parents,” he said. “Please, don’t you sacrifice yourself for me, too.”
“It’s not for you,” she told him. “It’s for Ryan, Ronnie and Kelsey. And it isn’t a sacrifice. If the situation were reversed, Diane wouldn’t think twice about doing the same for me. She’d expect me to help.”
Paul closed his eyes and nodded, his face grim. “I still don’t feel good about it.”
“I know.” Leah did; she knew it went against Paul’s pride to rely on his family so much. He didn’t have any choice, but he didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Paul was in an angry, unreasonable mood. If there was anything to be grateful for, it was that Leah had taken the boys to the zoo and Kelsey was napping.
He would’ve liked nothing better than to sit down at his computer. He was five chapters into a book, but he hadn’t written a word since Diane’s death. How could he? There hadn’t been a moment he could call his own. Not that he’d been in the state of mind that would allow him to get absorbed in his novel anyway. But he wanted to try, as much for Diane, who’d loved this story, as himself.
His two younger brothers had asked him to join their softball team. He felt a bit guilty for spurning Jason and Rich’s efforts to divert him, but feeling like a charity case was worse.
In any event, there wouldn’t have been time for softball this Saturday, since a dozen chores around the house needed to be done.
One of the twins had pulled the towel rack off the bathroom wall. When he’d asked who was responsible, both Ryan and Ronnie had claimed, “not me.” Not me seemed to have a lot to answer for lately.
Once he’d finished the bathroom repair, Paul moved into the twins’ bedroom, where the closet door was off the track. Setting it back in place wasn’t a simple task. Again and again he struggled to fit it onto the narrow groove until it was all he could do not to rip the door out in his frustration.
“You’re losing it, old boy,” he said, forcing himself to step back and take several deep breaths. Calmer now, he finally succeeded in fixing it.
From there, Paul moved to the garage. His car needed an oil change, and although he’d gotten in the habit of going to a twenty-minute lube place, this time he decided to do it himself, hoping to save a few dollars.
Tinkering in the garage, he realized he needed a few things from the hardware store. No big deal. He’d be back in fifteen, twenty minutes tops. It wasn’t until he’d gone a block down the road that he remembered Kelsey.
He tore back to the house like a madman and raced inside the front door, his heart pounding so hard it sounded like thunder in his ear.
Kelsey was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that her own father had actually forgotten her.
Slumping into the rocking chair, Paul clenched his fists, resisting the urge to plow one through the wall. Paul had never been a violent man, and he was horrified by the rage that surged through him.
Leah’s timing couldn’t have been worse. The boys exploded through the front door, happy and excited. Ryan and Ronnie were each clutching a bright red balloon in one hand and an ice-cream cone in the other.
“Daddy! Daddy, guess what we saw?”
Paul didn’t answer, but that didn’t seem to dampen Ryan’s enthusiasm.
“There was an eagle, a great big one with wings as long as…as an airplane and claws like this.” He formed his small hand into the shape. “Bigger even.”
“Paul, what’s wrong?” Leah’s soft voice came to him. If he closed his eyes, he could almost believe it was Diane speaking to him—only it wasn’t.
“I left the house to do one small errand,” he said in a low voice.
“Yes?”
“I went without Kelsey. I left her in the house alone,” he said. “Anything could’ve happened, don’t you understand? I left my own daughter behind…I completely forgot about her.”
“Nothing happened. It’s not the end of the world.”
“Isn’t it?” he shouted.
/>
Leah steered the boys toward the kitchen. “Finish your ice cream at the table, then wash your hands,” she told them calmly. “After that, it’s time for your nap.”
“Ronnie, get your thumb out of your mouth,” Paul yelled. “You’re too old to be sucking your thumb.”
The boy raised stricken eyes to his father and rushed into the other room.
“Take a few minutes to relax,” Leah told Paul, “and I’ll bring you a cup of tea.”
“I don’t want any tea.”
“I know,” she said. “You want Diane back. We all do.”
“A cup of tea isn’t going to help.”
“Perhaps not, but we need to talk, and anytime Diane had something important she wanted to discuss, she did it over a cup of tea.”
Paul didn’t need his sister-in-law to tell him about his dead wife’s habits. For an instant he wanted to lash out at her, the same way he had at Ronnie. But the guilt he felt at his irrational anger compounded as he followed Leah into the kitchen. Ryan and Ronnie were sitting at the table. Their excitement was gone, their shoulders hunched forward. Paul leaned over and kissed Ronnie’s cheek. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“I won’t suck my thumb anymore,” the four-year-old promised tearfully.
Ryan scooted off the chair and raced to their bedroom, returning with his yellow blanket, which he indignantly handed Paul. “If Ronnie can’t have his thumb, then I don’t want my blankie.”
“You’re sure?” Paul asked. Ryan hadn’t slept without his blanket since Diane’s death.
“Yes.”
“If you’re finished, go wash your hands,” Leah told the boys. “Naptime.”
Paul expected an argument. The boys rarely went to sleep without a fuss these days. They seemed to feel that if they were old enough for kindergarten in September, they were old enough to forgo afternoon naps. To his surprise neither one voiced a protest.
He was left alone in the kitchen as Leah walked the boys down the hallway. She returned a couple of minutes later and poured them each a cup of hot tea.