His Unexpected Family (6 page)

“That sounds nice.”

“It is...and it isn’t.” Emily wondered if he’d understand what she was about to explain. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, and celebrating all of this might be a bit premature.”

“I get that.” His voice was quiet and comforting. “So what are you going to do?”

“Beth convinced me.” She chuckled. “She’s awfully convincing when she wants to be.”

“Oh?”

“I can blame her for more than one fashion mistake.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But her heart is in the right place. What can I do?”

Greg just laughed.

“There is one complication....” Emily closed her eyes and silently grimaced. Should she even ask?

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Jack and Jill.”

“Meaning?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I was serious.” He chuckled. “What does that mean? I’m a man. I’m not up on baby-shower etiquette.”

“It means that men and women will come. Mainly, it means that women will bring their husbands and boyfriends.”

“Ah...” There was humor in his voice. “You need a Jack?”

“That would help immensely.” She had to smile. “Thank you, Greg. I really appreciate this.”

“So do I need to bring you a corsage or something?” he joked.

“No, pretty much just show up. And I’ll be eternally grateful.”

“Oh, I don’t need eternal gratitude.” He laughed. “It’ll be fun.”

“If I can ever do anything for you, Greg, let me know.”

There was something muffled in the background. “...yes, thanks.... No, four of them. Oh, Joyce? Can I get some copies of these, too?”

“Busy?” Emily asked.

“Yeah, I’d better get going. I’ll get those party details from you later, okay?”

“Okay. See you.”

As she hung up the phone, she couldn’t help but smile to herself. Looking back at Cora again, she gave the baby a smile.

“Ready to go home?” she asked.

Cora blinked and pulled some glistening fingers from her mouth.

“Me, too,” Emily said, and put the vehicle in gear and pulled out onto the street.

Chapter Nine

A
few days later, Emily stood in her parents’ living room, the diaper bag at her feet. Glancing at her watch, she mentally calculated how much time she had before she’d be late. Her mother cooed and babbled to Cora, lifting the baby into her arms.

“Oh, we’ll be just fine, Em,” she said. “Won’t we, Cora? Won’t we?”

Emily chuckled, watching her mother making a fishy face for Cora’s benefit. “Okay, I have three bottles. You won’t need all of them, but I have an extra, just in case. I think she’s growing, and she’s been hungry lately. The diapers will definitely be enough, but make sure you use the diaper cream. Her bottom has been sensitive lately. Also...”

“Sweetheart,” her mother said, looking up pointedly. “You’ve already told me all of this. Don’t worry. I raised you, you know.”

“I know.” Emily bent down and kissed Cora’s plump cheek. Only a few weeks ago, Cora had been much thinner. She was growing and getting nicely plump, and Emily felt a swell of personal pride in those rolls and dimples. She was doing something right.

“We’ll be fine,” her mother repeated, giving her a reassuring smile. “Okay? Have a good time.”

Emily wasn’t exactly going out for a good time. She had a dentist appointment, and then needed to make a quick stop by the drugstore to get a few toiletries. It would be the first time she’d gone out without Cora since the baby had arrived, and it felt strange.

As she walked out the front door toward her waiting vehicle, her father came around the house holding a garden hose. His iron-gray hair was neatly cropped in a fresh cut, and he wore a tattered yellow golf shirt. He loved that old shirt, and the only way her mother let him keep it was if he promised to wear it only when doing yard work.

“Hi, Emmy,” he called. “Off so soon?”

“I have a dentist appointment.”

“Look what I found.” He held up an old telescope, covered in dust. Emily stopped and squinted, looking more closely.

“You still have that?” she asked. “When did you get me that?”

“You were seven. You said you’d outgrown ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ and I bought you this to look at the real thing.” He gave her a wistful smile. “I just found it in the garage. I thought maybe we could show Cora the stars one day.”

Tears misted Emily’s eyes, the memories flying back. She’d been seven going on fourteen, as they said, and she remembered how disappointed her father had been when she declared herself officially grown-up and no longer in need of his silly songs.

“I think we’ve got some time before Cora is old enough for telescopes,” she said.

“Well, I’ll just get it ready.” He dropped the hose in a pile beside the outside faucet and wiped some of the dust off the old telescope with the palm of his hand.

“Dad?”

He looked up at her cheerfully. “Yes?”

“I have a court date for Cora’s custody hearing.”

The sparkle went out of his eyes, and his shoulders slumped just a little. He gave a quick nod. “Oh, that. Just a bit of red tape. It’ll be fine.”

“Do you think so?” She didn’t know what she expected him to say. He didn’t know any more than she did.

“I think so.” He nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll start cleaning this up.” He lifted the dusty telescope in a salute.

She felt like hugging her old father then. He was so determined, so stubborn when it came to letting go of hope, and that was part of what she loved about him.

“I’ll see you, Dad.” She gave him a grateful smile and pulled open the door of her vehicle. He didn’t know any more about this than she did, and he had no possible way to see the future, but somehow her father’s opinion made all the difference.

As she drove down the road toward the dentist’s office, her mind kept going back to that old telescope. When she’d turned seven, she’d decided that the second grade was too advanced for silly little songs like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” and she’d informed her father that she would just have to grow up. She could still remember the look on his face when she said it—a mixture of sad tenderness and indulgence.

“I’ll tell you what, princess,” he’d said. “You’re right. You are very grown-up now. I think you’re grown-up enough to look at some real stars, don’t you?”

Looking back on it now, he hadn’t been willing to lose their little tradition together, even if it meant evolving it a little, and she was grateful for that. She had countless warm memories of standing with her father in their backyard, looking through that rickety little telescope at a full moon, or at a cluster of stars while he told her about the galaxies and nebulae beyond. As they looked at the craters in the moon, their conversation would move to other subjects: the girl who ignored her at school, her insecurity over her big feet, her curiosity about family stories she wasn’t old enough to know yet. She might have thought she was very grown-up, but her daddy still knew how to comfort her.

The dentist’s visit took longer than she’d expected. By the time Emily was driving back to her parents’ house, her mouth partially frozen, two hours had passed. The warm wind came in through the open window, and a jangly tune played on the radio—something about a brokenhearted cowboy.

Her parents lived on a quaint little street with small, boxy houses built in the sixties. They were cute in the way Lego houses were cute, with shutters and steeply sloped roofs, a garage off the side and a mailbox out front. She could drive down this street without even thinking, and it almost felt as if the car knew the way. Pulling into her parents’ drive, she saw the little BMW parked in front of her, and her heart sank. It belonged to her cousin Steve.

“Shoot,” she muttered to herself. She parked her SUV next to it and got out, slamming the door. “What now?”

The screen door was closed, but the main door to the house was open, letting a warm breeze come inside. Emily could hear their voices before she even opened the screen, and when she did, the chitchat silenced. Stepping into the living room, she saw Sara sitting in the easy chair, Cora snuggled in her arms and Steve standing protectively over her.

Sara wore her hair pulled away from her face with a headband, a look both too young for her and also oddly appropriate. She looked more like a slender schoolgirl sitting there, except for her hands. Her hands moved with the experience of a mother, confident and accustomed to babies.

“Hi,” Emily said.

“Hello, Emily,” Sara said sweetly. “How was the dentist?”

“Oh, fine.” Emily touched her face. “A couple of cavities. How are you doing?”

“I missed her.” Sara looked up bashfully. “You’ve got to forgive me, but I had to come and get some good snuggles in.”

There was nothing wrong with coming to cuddle a baby, but something inside of Emily piqued at that. Sara looked back down at Cora lovingly, making wide-eyed faces at her.

“Such a pretty girl,” Sara cooed. “Such a pretty, pretty girl. Yes, you are.”

Steve looked over at Emily silently.

“How are you, Steve?” Emily asked, going over to collect the baby bag. It sat next to the chair, tucked behind Sara’s purse as if it were part of her things.

“Oh, leave that,” Sara said, gently swatting Emily’s hand as she went to reach. “I might need a cloth or something.”

Emily stopped for a moment, then reached past her and took the bag. Sara ignored her, her attention on the baby.

“So are you enjoying your summer off?” Steve asked brightly.

“Absolutely,” Emily replied. “One of the perks of my job.”

“But September comes up soon enough....” He looked at her levelly. “Before you know it, this summer adventure will be over and you’ll be back in the saddle.”

Emily frowned. Why did she feel like a teenager being lectured about responsibility? What she did with her career was strictly her business, in her opinion, and she resented her cousin’s meddling. “Do you have any plans for the summer?” she asked instead.

Sara looked up at Steve, and they exchanged a look.

“Not really.” Steve shrugged. “We like to keep the girls pretty close to home. Family time is precious.”

Emily glanced at her watch. She didn’t actually have any pressing appointments, but she wasn’t comfortable with this visit. The tension in the room, despite the cheery smiles, could be played with a guitar pick.

“Thanks for watching her, Mom.” Emily turned toward her mother, who stood there with a nervous expression on her face. They exchanged a baffled look.

“No problem, sweetie,” her mother said smoothly. “Anytime.”

“I’d better get going.” Emily adjusted the baby bag on her shoulder and picked up the car seat from where she’d left it by the door.

When Sara made no move to hand Cora over to Emily, her mother stepped in.

“Sara,” Emily’s mother said softly, moving toward the door as if to block an escape. “Emily is Cora’s guardian. We have to respect her wishes for Cora.”

“Cora needs time with me,” Sara replied, giving them a chilly smile. “She needs to know who I am.” She pulled the baby in closer and turned herself away from them as if to put her body between the baby and everyone else.

Emily looked up at Steve, who glanced away uncomfortably. “What is going on, exactly?”

“Sara, let’s not make a scene here,” Steve murmured.

“I’m not done yet.” Sara’s expression was near panic. “She needs to know me.”

“Why are you saying this?” Emily asked quietly. Cora began to squirm, looking around, then she opened her mouth in a thin wail.

“Shh, shh.” Sara stood up and began to bounce the baby gently in her arms.

“Thanks, Sara,” Emily said. “I’ll just take her now.”

“This is better for Cora,” Sara said, reluctantly letting Emily take the baby from her arms. “What do you think it’s going to be like for her when she comes home with us? She needs to know who I am.”

Emily fought down the anger rising up inside of her. Cora nestled cozily into her arms, happy now that she was with Emily, but Sara still stood there, her eyes full of tears and her gaze locked on the baby.

“She needs to know I’m here.”

Steve put a hand firmly on her shoulder, and Sara clamped her mouth shut.

“I’m pretty sure our lawyers would advise us to stop these emotionally charged meetings,” Emily said, her voice low. “Look, we’re family. We shouldn’t be going to court, but it is what it is. Let’s not make anything worse here today. We have three weeks till our court date. Perhaps we should just keep our distance until then.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Steve agreed quickly. “Come, Sara, we need to go pick up the girls.”

With a lingering look at little Cora, Sara stood up and adjusted her dress primly. “Thanks for the tea, Aunt Rita. We’d better go pick up the girls. They’ll be missing us by now.”

Steve and Sara walked to the front door, hesitated a moment and then opened it.

“Thanks again.” Steve’s voice was unnaturally high, then they stepped outside and the screen banged shut behind them. Emily and her parents stood in silence until they heard the little BMW start and pull out of the drive.

“Wow.” Her mother sighed. “What was that?”

Emily just shook her head. “They seem pretty confident.”

Her mother grimaced and shook her head. “Well, they shouldn’t be counting their chickens.”

Emily’s father stood by the kitchen door, his lips pressed firmly together in a thin line. When he felt Emily’s eyes on him, he looked over at her, his expression unchanged.

“Should I be worried?” Emily asked, her energy draining out of her. She knew what she was hoping for. She wanted her father to tell her that it wasn’t as bad as it looked—that it was really just normal family tensions around a time like this. His expression, however, suggested otherwise.

“You should ask the chief of police about that,” he said. “He’d know, and I’d feel better if you talked it over with him. At least have it on record that your cousins are acting strangely.”

“That was definitely weird, right?” She looked from her mother’s stricken face back to her father.

“Downright loony,” her father said. “Call Chief Taylor.”

* * *

Greg sat in his car outside Shady Pines Nursing Home. He wasn’t ready to go in yet. He was relatively sure what he’d meet with, and he wasn’t ready for the rejection yet. A man never thought he’d live to see the day that his own mother would forget him. It hurt deep down in a place that ached like a punch in the gut. He just needed his mother to recognize him...to let him comfort her.

She’d never been the type to let him comfort her, though. Even at his father’s funeral, his mother was stoic and composed. He remembered standing next to her, and her spine had been like steel. She didn’t bend—not once. She’d stared at the casket, deep sadness swimming in her eyes, but her face was like a granite mask. It had taken three years for her to smile again, but she’d never cried in front of him, either. His mother had been a rock, brave and immovable.

“Your dad is gone,” she’d told him gently the night that they’d buried him. “And we’ll take care of each other now. But don’t worry—you’ve got a pretty tough mama. We’ll be all right.”

That had been her motto—he had a pretty tough mama. Looking back on it now, he could see her struggle to be both mother and father to him, but at the time he’d been confused by the change in her. He could still remember the day he’d come home with a nasty black eye from a boxing class that he hadn’t been able to hide. When she’d got home from work, she’d stopped in the process of taking off her coat.

“What happened to you?” she’d demanded, bending down to look into his battered face. Her coat was still half-on.

“I fell,” he lied.

“Where?” She gingerly touched his blue-smudged cheek with her cool fingers.

“Down a big hill.” If she’d pressed further, he was relatively certain his lie would crumble around him. Instead, she gave him a long look, straight into his eyes and into his soul, if that were possible.

“That’s quite the hill,” she said softly. “I think I need to talk to your principal. Who did this to you?”

“Mom, don’t embarrass me!” His anger erupted. “Quit treating me like a baby. I said I fell!”

As she pulled herself erect, he thought for a brief moment that she might cry, but she didn’t. Instead, she calmly took off her coat, sucked in a deep breath and said, “Put some ice on that. It’ll help with the swelling.”