As she parked in front of the house, she could imagine what it had been like years ago. Toys had probably been strewn about the yard then, even as the grandchildren’s toys were now. The swing that hung from the oak tree in the front yard looked new, but Karen guessed there had been one years ago, too.
She picked her way carefully up the sidewalk, avoiding toy trucks, a tricycle and a scattering of plastic blocks. Even as she stepped onto the front porch, the screen door swung open and Maria Cruz leveled a suspicious look in her direction. Karen would have found it daunting any other time, but today it only steeled her resolve to have it out with this maternal tyrant.
“I was hoping we could talk,” she said, not looking away from those dark eyes that bore not even a hint of welcome.
“And your phone did not work?” Mrs. Cruz inquired. “I would have told you not to come.”
Karen allowed herself a small smile. “Which is exactly why I didn’t call first.”
That seemed to startle the older woman. Eventually she shrugged. “You are here now. You might as well come in,” she said grudgingly.
“Thank you,” Karen said, careful not to sound victorious.
For a woman who wielded so much power in her family, Maria Cruz was surprisingly petite, almost fragile. Her hair was still thick and black and worn pulled into a severe bun at the back of her head. The style suited her stern persona, but did nothing to flatter her sharp features.
“We’ll go to the kitchen,” she announced, leading the
way. “I have cookies in the oven. Adelia is bringing her children by after school.”
“The cookies smell delicious,” Karen said. “My neighbor bakes cookies for Daisy and Mack.”
Mrs. Cruz frowned. “Isn’t that something you should do yourself?”
Karen tried not to take offense at the suggestion that she was somehow shortchanging her children. The woman had made it plain more than once that being employed, rather than being a stay-at-home mom, was yet another of Karen’s failings. “I do sometimes, but Frances enjoys having children around to bake for, much the same as you do, I imagine.”
The possibility that Karen might actually be thinking of her neighbor’s needs rather than being neglectful seemed to take Mrs. Cruz by surprise. “You make a good point,” she said, then waved Karen toward a chair. “Sit. I’ll pour us both a glass of tea.”
When she’d filled two glasses and set them on the table, she peeked into the oven, then closed the door. Finally she sat down opposite Karen and gave her a challenging look.
“Why are you here?”
“I’m sure you can guess,” Karen said, deciding to be totally direct and candid. “I know you disapprove of me because I’m divorced. Maybe for other reasons, as well. But I love your son, Mrs. Cruz. You’ve raised him to be a wonderful, thoughtful man. And you’ve taught him how to love with everything in him. He holds nothing back.” She looked directly into Mrs. Cruz’s eyes. “He loves me.”
When the woman made a disparaging sound, Karen held up a hand.
“You know he does,” she insisted. “And I know it troubles you. Somehow, though, we have to make this work for
Elliott’s sake. It’s not fair for him to feel he has to choose between us.”
“You say you love him and yet you would make him do such a thing?” Mrs. Cruz demanded, practically quivering with indignation. “What kind of love is that?”
“I’m not the one forcing him to choose,” Karen said mildly. “
You
are. If you and I can’t make peace, then I will walk away. He thinks we can simply coexist, if it comes to that, but I know better. For every holiday, every family celebration—your family’s or ours—Elliott would be filled with sorrow that we aren’t all together. Is that what you want? Do you want me gone so badly that you would make your son miserable to accomplish it?”
Mrs. Cruz’s gaze faltered at that. “You are willing to leave, rather than cause problems between my son and his family?”
“I don’t want to,” Karen said. “He’s everything I ever dreamed of in a man, but if it comes to that, yes. He loves you. He respects you. Family means everything to him. You should know, because you taught him that. I won’t take that away from him, even if it means losing the best thing that ever happened to me.”
For just an instant, Mrs. Cruz’s expression softened. “He’s a good son. Since my husband died, he’s been the man of the family. We all count on him.”
“I know you do. And he’ll be a wonderful husband and father,” Karen said. “He can be all of those things, but only if you and I can make this work.”
“You’re divorced,” Mrs. Cruz said, her face set stubbornly. “It is a sin.”
“Isn’t it a sin for the father of my children to abandon me?” Karen asked her. “Isn’t it a sin for him not to pay one dime
of child support? Do I stay married forever to a man like that, a man who would walk away from his own children?”
Elliott’s mother visibly struggled with what Karen was telling her. “He left you alone with two babies?”
Karen nodded. “It wasn’t like it was for you when Elliott’s father died. My husband was not well-to-do. He left no insurance as your husband did. I’ve worked because I have to, and I love what I do.”
“The father sends no money for his children?” Mrs. Cruz asked, her expression incredulous.
Again, Karen nodded. “There was a time when I believed marriage was forever, too. I meant it when I spoke those vows, but my husband did not. After he’d gone, after I realized he was never coming back, would never be a father to his children, I filed for divorce. He wasn’t a good and decent man, Mrs. Cruz. He was nothing like your son. If Elliott and I marry, it would be in your church and it would be forever. He wants to adopt my children and make them his. We would have the kind of family I’ve only been able to
dream
about ’til now.”
She gave the older woman an innocent look. “And you would have two more grandchildren to adore you. They need you as much as they need a dad. They need aunts and uncles and cousins. I want that for them, but not at the expense of causing a rift between you and your son.”
Slowly, Mrs. Cruz nodded. Her expression had softened some, but was still far from the doting gaze she reserved for her son and daughters and grandchildren. “I’ll tell Elliott to bring you and the children to dinner on Sunday,” she said at last.
Karen remained skeptical. “You’ll give us a chance? A real one this time?”
“I want my son to be happy,” she told Karen. “So do you. It seems like a place to begin.”
A faint spark of hope stirred inside Karen. “Thank you.”
“So you will come?” Mrs. Cruz asked, sounding surprisingly hesitant.
“We will,” Karen assured her.
The gesture might not be huge, but it was enough for now. Elliott’s mother might not be crazy about her or about the situation, but at least she’d accepted that they had one major thing in common: their love for Elliott.
When the contraction sent a sharp, searing pain through her belly, Helen gasped and guided the car off the road, cursing this one last case that had taken her all the way to Charleston.
No!
she thought. She couldn’t be going into labor, not almost three weeks early and not here on an isolated road miles from the nearest hospital. Not when she was all alone with no one around for miles. The thought of what Erik would do if anything happened to her or this baby swam through the haze of pain and made her feel stronger. She could handle this, she told herself staunchly. She had to.
Eventually the pain eased and she fumbled in her purse for her cell phone. Please, let there be a signal, she prayed as she punched in the number for Sullivan’s. A moment later, Dana Sue answered.
“Thank God,” Helen murmured. “It’s me. I’m about twenty miles outside of Serenity. I’m on Route 522 in the middle of nowhere and…” Her voice caught on a sob. “I think I’m in labor.”
“I’ll get Erik,” Dana Sue said at once.
As desperately as she wanted him with her, Helen could
only think of the anguish he’d suffered when he’d watched his wife die in childbirth. “Don’t,” she pleaded. “You can’t tell him. Maybe this is just a false alarm. Those Braxton-Hicks pains, you know what I mean.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Dana Sue said. “Erik needs to know.”
Helen thought about it. “Okay, you’re right, but he can’t come out here, not alone, anyway. Please, Dana Sue. I know you don’t understand, but I can’t put him through that. If something goes wrong…”
“
Nothing
is going to go wrong,” Dana Sue countered with reassuring certainty. “I’ll close the restaurant and come with him myself. Don’t you dare try to drive any farther, okay? And if you need me again, call my cell. We’ll be there in half an hour, maybe a little longer. Less, if I let Erik drive.”
“Then don’t let him drive,” Helen ordered, then gasped as another pain roared up and left her clutching her belly, the phone dropping, forgotten, on the floor of the car.
When she could, she smoothed her hand over her tight stomach. “I know you’re impatient,” she told the baby. “You’re just like me that way, but could you hang on just a little longer, please? Your daddy and Dana Sue are on their way with help. You don’t want to be born on the side of the road. It’ll be so much nicer if you arrive in a nice, clean hospital surrounded by people who know what they’re doing and who have a nice warm blanket to wrap you in.”
The baby responded by sending another contraction ripping through her. God, she was as bad as Maddie. She’d felt some strange back pains earlier in the day, but she’d thought they were just the result of being cramped up in the car for the drive to Charleston. Damn her high threshold for pain! Apparently she’d been in labor for hours without realizing it.
“This is not good,” she whispered, looking at her watch.
The contractions were way too close together and way too strong to be some kind of false labor. And like so many things in her life, it seemed apparent she was going to give birth in a hurry, too.
Between contractions, she managed to get out and crawl into the backseat of the car where she could lie down, albeit awkwardly.
An endless thirty minutes later, she heard a siren, then spotted dust swirling up in the distance. “Thank God,” she said, gritting her teeth against another wave of pain.
Then Erik was there, barely a minute ahead of the EMTs, his face drained of all color, Dana Sue beside him looking almost as worried.
“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Erik asked in a voice thick with emotion.
As glad as she was to see him, she frowned. “How do you think?” she snapped, grabbing his hand with a grip that could have broken bones.
“Let’s get you to a hospital, then,” he said, his tone light, but tension radiating from him.
“I don’t think there’s time for that. The contractions are pretty close together.”
He stared at her in confusion. “How long ago did the pains start?”
“This morning, I think.”
Erik muttered a curse.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, still clinging to his hand.
“No, no, it’s not your fault,” he said. “You didn’t know. You’ve never been in labor before. Sometimes those early contractions can fool you.”
Two EMTs rushed over to the car, but when they tried to shoo Erik out of the way, Helen protested.
“My husband’s a trained EMT,” she said, her gaze locked with his. “I want him to deliver our child.”
Erik looked horrified. “No. I can’t. These guys know what they’re doing.”
“So do you,” she said quietly. “I believe in you. We’re going to do this together, you and me.”
Just then the opposite door opened and Dana Sue crawled in. “I guess that makes me your breathing coach,” she said cheerfully, winking at Erik.
He locked his gaze with Helen’s, his eyes filled with so much worry, so much love, she was almost blinded by it.
“You’re sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” Helen said. “Not a doubt in my mind. And the baby seems to be pretty convinced, too.”
“Maybe we could make it to the hospital,” he suggested, sounding a little desperate.
Helen shook her head. “I already told the baby to wait,” she whispered to him when she could catch her breath. “She doesn’t seem to be interested in that idea.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Obviously he’s already a little rebel. It doesn’t bode well for the teenage years.”
“Then she’s probably going to need both of us around so we can back each other up,” Helen suggested, watching his face closely.
“Looks like it,” he agreed. “You okay with that?”
She swallowed hard as the desire to push nearly overwhelmed her. “Um, Erik, I don’t think we can have this conversation now,” she said between pants.
He immediately moved into place and went into action. Moments later, he commanded her to push.
Suddenly she felt the baby coming and was filled with exhilaration. She waited to hear the baby’s first
tiny wail. When it didn’t come, she cast a panicked look at Erik, but he was working, his movements sure and confident. The other EMTs were close by, nodding at his actions, ready to step in if needed, but Erik clearly had this under control.
Then, at last, there was a loud, healthy howl and relief flooded her. Her eyes swam with tears.
“Girl or boy?” she asked, trying to raise herself so she could see.
A moment later Erik was holding a bundle wrapped in a blanket. “Mom,” he said, shifting to place the baby in Helen’s waiting arms, “I’d like you to meet your daughter. And unless I miss my guess, she’s full-term, not a preemie. Goodness knows, her lungs sound fully developed.”
“Sarah Beth,” Helen whispered, looking with wonder at the squalling, pink-faced baby in her arms. She glanced back at Erik, who couldn’t seem to tear his awestruck gaze away from the baby. She nudged him with her elbow. “A girl really, really needs her dad.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “I need him, too.”
Erik touched a finger to the baby’s cheek, then to hers. “Sugar, don’t you know by now how much I love you? You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
She searched his expression to see if there were any doubts, but he looked as if he meant it. “You’re sure?”
A slow smile spread across his face. “Absolutely, positively. We might have taken a few detours and backroads, but it feels to me as if we’re meant to be a family.”