Song of the Brokenhearted (21 page)

Love,
Bethany

P.S. I wanted to bring some dahlias for you, but I couldn't find any at Kroger's. So I hope you like the orchid they had there.

Ava hadn't noticed the potted orchid sitting a few feet from the car seat. The letter fluttered out of her hand, landing in the hedges. She grabbed it back up, turning it over in search of a cell phone number or some way to contact the girl.

The baby stirred in her car seat, and a panic filled her.

Ava stared at the car seat, acutely aware that she was standing outside in her pajamas staring at a baby. She realized that the object beside it was a cheap diaper bag stuffed full and straining against its latch.

She didn't want to carry the baby into the house. Yet she couldn't leave it outside while she retrieved her phone. But if she brought the baby inside her house, it seemed some line was being crossed. She did not want to cross that line.

Ava saw the garage door rising across the street. Old Hal Johnston must be coming out to walk his dog like he did every morning. His dog walking was more about visiting any neighbor in sight than actual exercise. Ava was not prepared to explain an abandoned baby to him.

And then the baby opened her eyes.

Twenty-Two

A
VA ROCKED THE CAR SEAT IN THE ENTRYWAY OF THE HOUSE
. T
HE
baby appeared fascinated by the scene around her—the sweeping wood stairway and especially how the sun caught the chandelier. Ava turned on the light, and the baby squealed and kicked her feet, arching her neck to try sitting up, then falling back to the view above.

“It's okay, you can just hang out there. It's cozy, right?”

The baby strained against the straps, staring at Ava with large brown eyes as if trying to communicate.

“I know I'm a stranger, but I won't hurt you. Your mama probably will be right back. She'll get a few miles down the road and turn around . . .”

Ava's house phone rang, making the baby jump. She glanced at the child, then down the hall toward the den, then made a sudden run for it while keeping her eye on the car seat the entire time.

She scooped up the phone sitting on its charger and pushed On while racing back toward the baby.

“Your cell phone is off and you are not going to believe my date last night,” Kayanne said cheerily.

“Can you come over?” Ava sputtered in a near frantic tone.

Silence hung over the phone. “Wh-en?”

“Now?” Ava tried to keep her voice steady, but an unexpected emotion welled up, threatening to bring her to tears. Why couldn't she control herself?

“What's wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Ava swallowed back the emotion and mustered a weak, “Just come soon.”

“I'm at work. But . . . okay. On my way!”

She riffled through the diaper bag. There were diapers— five of them, and how many did a baby use in a day, she couldn't remember.

The diaper bag was clean but unorganized. There were several rattles and a teething ring. Two bottles were empty with instructions on how to make a bottle taped on the outside. Formula was in a small container. At the very bottom, she found a pacifier.

This baby needed clothing, more formula and diapers, and most of all, her mother.

The baby let out an irritated cry, again straining against the car seat straps.

“Okay, okay,” Ava said, bending down. She unlatched the straps and reached beneath the baby's arms to pull her out.

Her small body was lighter than she expected.

Ava wasn't sure how to hold her and tried cradling her in her arms. The baby strained again as if wanting to be up, so she moved her to her shoulder.

And she smelled like a baby, that wonderful scent that didn't compare to anything else. Her hair was downy soft and smelled of baby shampoo.

The baby rested her head against Ava's chest, then squirmed and let out a howl. She leaned back, staring at Ava with a confused expression. Her soft pink mouth dipped into a pout, then she cried again, turning to look around the room.

The baby grunted, arching her back as she squirmed in Ava's arms.

“It's okay.”

Surely the baby sensed the panic building in her. The more panicky she felt, the more the baby squirmed and fussed. She rubbed her eyes and suddenly let out a howl. Ava bounced and paced back and forth across the living room and kept talking as the baby calmed. The moment Ava paused, the baby cried again.

“You like the sound of my voice? But I can't talk all day. What can I tell you about? You don't want to hear about the crazy family you were born into. But don't worry, I was too and I escaped . . .”

Then she remembered rocking Jason to sleep. Babies like rocking, she reminded herself, and sat in the chair. The baby kicked up with her feet and threw herself backward. Ava almost lost her, which made the baby howl.

“It's all right, baby, it's all right,” she said, and started making a shushing sound as she rocked. The baby settled down as she patted her back. Before long, the baby was moving less and feeling heavier as her muscles loosened. The feel of the baby against Ava's chest soothed her as well, then panic washed over her again as the reality of a baby abandoned on her doorstep sunk in.

Outside, the sky darkened as rain clouds gathered together for an afternoon storm. Ava could see the terrible mess in the backyard through the living room window, the branches and leaves scattered around and the jagged top of the willow stump—an ugly sight in the light of day.

A knock sounded on the front door, but Ava didn't move to get it. A moment later, she heard Kayanne coming inside.

“Ava, where are you? The front door was open.”

“Back here,” she called from the living room. The baby stirred in her arms as she rose from the chair, but with a few bounces, she fell back to sleep.

“I'm here, sorry to take so long. I stopped for coffee and I bought an entire coconut cream pie at Bailey's Bakery. It sounded like we'd need the whole pie.”

“For just the two of us?” Ava asked, walking into the kitchen.

Kayanne froze when she saw Ava with the baby. One coffee tilted to the side and for a moment Ava thought she'd lose everything onto the floor. Kayanne recovered with only one slosh of coffee hitting the tile.

“What is that?” she asked, unloading the cups and pie box onto the counter.

“What do you mean, what is it? It's a baby.”

“I figured that part out, and why do you have it?”

Ava smiled and shrugged. “I found it.”

Kayanne's eyebrows lowered as she studied Ava, then the baby, then Ava again.

“And what happened to you—you're all scratched up. You're a mess. Are you okay? Am I seeing things?”

Ava laughed out loud, making the baby jump.

“Oh no,” Ava said, bouncing the baby in short, hurried jiggles until she settled back against Ava's chest. Her arms and back were aching from her overnight adventures with the willow tree, and holding the baby was making it worse.

“Maybe someone slipped me a rufie in my water last night.”

“You aren't seeing things. This is real.”

“This is why you wanted me to come over? I'm so confused. I thought Dane was seeing another woman.”

“What? You thought Dane was having an affair?” This pricked at the fear she'd been toying with in the past months.

“You sounded . . . well, devastated. Thus the pie. This ain't nothing like what I expected, girlfriend.”

“I don't know what to do.”

“You better start at the beginning. Why are you all scraped up? Where did you
find
this baby? And what are you going to do with it?”

“I called you to help me figure that out.”

“Oh boy. Let me get us a piece of pie, or better yet, forget cutting it. I'll just get some forks.”

Twenty-Three

L
“LET'S TACKLE THE IMMEDIATE PROBLEM FIRST
,” A
VA SAID, BOUNC
-ing the baby as Kayanne held the note Bethany had left behind.

“You sound like we're in a planning meeting. Okay, immediate problems first. Which are what?”

“Well, we don't know how long I'll have her. Bethany might come back any minute, or it might be a few days.”

“Got it. So diapers, formula, baby food—is she eating solids yet?”

“I don't know,” Ava said, lifting the baby to face her. Their eyes met. “Are you eating baby food yet?” she asked and the baby gave her a huge smile.

“That was seriously cute.”

“Do you know how to make a bottle?”

“We both nursed our kids, and I don't know how to do any of this anymore.”

“First, we need to sterilize everything.”

“Her name is Emma. I love that name,” Kayanne said, and Ava realized she hadn't fully processed the baby's name.

“I considered it when I was pregnant with Jason.”

“Your favorite Jane Austen book,” Kayanne said, with a quizzical expression.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

She seemed to shake it off. “Nothing, I don't know. Time to sterilize!”

A little while later, the few baby items from the diaper bag were drying on the kitchen counter—everything they could sterilize had been dipped in boiling water. While they worked, Ava filled Kayanne in on the last twelve hours, from her battle with the willow tree to the knock on her front door.

Kayanne used her smart phone to find online instructions for the ratios of formula to purified water as she double-checked the handwritten directions. A mom who leaves her baby on the doorstep might not be the most reliable in such things, they surmised.

“Okay, I'm heading out for some baby shopping,” Kayanne said. She held a list they'd made after taking inventory of the diaper bag and copying a checklist of baby needs from a parenting website.

Ava fed the baby a bottle while rocking her. Emma's eyes closed and opened as they went to and fro.

“Call if you think of anything. I put your phone on vibrate so it doesn't wake her,” Kayanne whispered as she tiptoed toward the front door.

When the baby—Emma, she reminded herself—had fallen completely asleep, Ava laid her carefully on the sofa and propped some pillows around her so she couldn't roll off. Then she dug out her old address book from the file cabinet in the den. She flipped through the names of her old family members, wondering if they still had the same numbers.

She tried her cousin Jessie—Bethany's mother—but the number now belonged to someone else. Her grandmother's house where her family surely still lived had its number disconnected.

Ava called every number in the worn-out address book. It was as if the entire family had disappeared. Every number was disconnected or reassigned, except for her brother Clancy's, but his line just rang and rang.

Then she remembered that Bethany had called her. She found the number and called it.

“This is Bethany's phone, but I'm doing something other than being on my phone. Leave a message and I'll see what I can do. Ciao.”

“Bethany. It's your Aunt Ava. We need to talk right away. Please call me back.”

She slumped against the sofa with the baby asleep close against the cushions. It was getting dark out and she realized she was starving—the only thing she'd eaten all day was a few bites of Kayanne's coconut cream pie. She went to the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal and brought it back to the sofa, watching Emma sleep while she ate.

Ava could help other people in crisis. But her own extended family, Ava couldn't even remain in contact with them. She wondered if that was sort of like pointing out the splinter in someone else's eye when she had a log in her own. The analogy didn't quite work since she wasn't being judgmental, but instead was trying to help people. And Ava couldn't help her own family.

She stared at the baby.

You can help this one
.

Ava shook her head. She wondered who to call, what person would be able to help during their crisis. Mostly Ava wished she could keep it all a secret—their financial problems and now a baby dumped on her doorstep by another loser member of her family.

Ava's phone buzzed and she popped open the text message to a picture of a sheer orange wall of rock with a vivid blue sky above. The message read:
We rappelled down this!

Jason had copied it to Sienna, who wrote:
I'm jealous, little bro!

Ava tapped one letter at a time.
Fun, be careful!

She wondered what they'd think if they could see her now and considered taking a picture to shock them. Ava never shocked her family, she realized with a frown.

Baby Emma stirred within twenty minutes of putting her down. Ava scooped her up and rocked her again, feeling her small body go limp against her chest.