UpSlideDown was even livelier than usual. Volunteers were packing up the gifts that had been collected for the Holiday Blast at the Core Recreational Centre, and some of the young guests were reluctant to see the gifts that had been mounting under the tree with such promise suddenly disappear. There were tears and reassurances, and when Mieka passed by Jacob and me, her arms full of presents, she murmured, “Next year, remind me to do the transfer of gifts under cover of darkness.”
“Will do,” I said. “I’ll also remind you that Clare Booth Luce said, ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ ”
Mieka exhaled loudly. “You can put that one on my grave.”
“Did people donate enough gifts?”
“We’ll know later. The organizers at Core Recreational are going to call if there’s an age group that’s missing out. My plan is to hit Zack up for a fat cheque to fill the holes, and you and I can do some quick shopping. Sound okay?”
“Sure. Zack’s a generous guy.”
“How’s that flu of his?”
“We brought in a part-time nurse to help.”
Mieka’s face clouded. “Zack isn’t getting worse, is he?”
“No. The nurse is only coming in for a couple of hours a day. I just needed a little backup.”
My daughter narrowed her eyes. “You are looking a bit worn.”
“I forgot to put on makeup.”
“I have an emergency supply in the cloakroom. Let me unload these parcels; then Jacob can entertain me while you give L’Oreal a chance to work its magic.”
Mieka and Jacob were playing peek-a-boo when I came back from the cloakroom. Mieka gave me an approving nod. “Much better,” she said. “Why don’t you pour yourself a cup of coffee and enjoy the moment.”
Logic would have suggested that Nadine Perrault pay a visit to UpSlideDown as soon as she arrived in Regina. I’d given her Mieka’s business and home addresses and told her that in the days before her death Abby had spent part of every day at UpSlideDown. Still, that snowy afternoon, when Nadine came through the door, I was taken by surprise.
Her blonde hair was tucked under a black cloche, and her black scarf was knotted with the casual flair that seems to be the birthright of French women. In her grey wool pea coat, closely fitted grey slacks, and knee-high leather boots, Nadine was a figure of elegance, but elegance doesn’t cut it when the mercury is hovering at thirty below. As she gazed around UpSlideDown, she hugged herself. Clearly, she was chilled to the bone, but despite the tempting warmth of the room, when she spotted me, she turned as if to leave.
I stood. “Nadine, stay. Jacob’s here.”
Her eyes sought out the baby, and when she saw him in Mieka’s arms, she moved past the bright Christmas tree and the playing children and went straight to him.
After three weeks, Nadine was inches away from the child she loved; yet her first words were for me. “Thank you for not being angry,” she said. “I regretted my rudeness as soon as I broke the connection at the airport. Now I’m doubly sorry.”
I gestured to an empty chair at our table. “This is a terrible situation,” I said. “You and Delia have been living through the worst hours of your lives for days now. That kind of tension takes a toll.”
Nadine looked at Jacob, her face filled with longing. Mieka’s eyes found mine. I nodded, and Mieka handed the baby to Nadine. Jacob held his hands out to her and smiled.
“He likes to sit, don’t you, Jacob?” Mieka said.
At the sound of his name, the baby turned towards Mieka.
Nadine adjusted his position, so he could sit on her lap and she could look into his face. “You’re growing up,” she said, and her voice was low and gentle.
“Three weeks is a long time in a baby’s life.”
Nadine’s smile was wry. “A long time in my life too.”
Jacob watched her attentively. “I don’t know anything about child development,” Nadine said, “but Jacob seems very advanced. I guess all mothers… ” She corrected herself. “I guess everyone believes that their baby is special.”
Mieka put three bright rubber blocks that looked like bugs on the table. Jacob reached over and tried repeatedly to place one of the blocks atop another. “Jacob really is advanced,” my daughter said. “Not many children his age even attempt that.”
“Abby wanted a clever child,” Nadine said. “Her criteria in choosing a father for her baby were stringent, and high intelligence was at the top of the list.”
“Do you know the father?” Mieka asked. The question grew out of the conversation so naturally that Nadine didn’t appear to find it intrusive.
She shook her head. “No. Abby felt it would be difficult if I knew who he was. She was right. It would have been incredibly painful to think of her being intimate with someone I knew. Of course, even though I never knew who the man was, I spent hours imagining what he was like. I always thought it was someone who had already proven himself in the world. Abby wouldn’t have risked going through a relationship with a man unless she was as certain as one could be that she’d give birth to the child she wanted.”
After that, we were all silent. Jacob played with his three bright bug blocks, stacking them, knocking them over, and stacking them again.
“Why don’t I get us a carafe of coffee,” Mieka said finally.
“None for me, thanks,” Nadine said. “I’m content just to watch Jacob.”
I touched her arm. “Nadine, any time now Noah Wainberg is going to meet me here to pick up Jacob, so if you’d rather not see him… ”
“I appreciate the warning,” she said. “But I’ll stay. Maybe we’ve been given a second chance.”
Noah arrived almost immediately. I introduced him to Nadine. When Jacob saw Noah’s familiar grin, he held out his arms and said, “Da.”
“He is a clever boy,” Nadine said.
“You should see him when he’s on the move.” Noah looked at Nadine. “If you have a few minutes, we could put Jacob down and let him show you his stuff.”
“I have all the time in the world,” Nadine said.
Noah shrugged off his coat, picked up one of the mats Mieka kept for babies learning to crawl, and unrolled it on the floor. Nadine put Jacob down and placed the bug blocks at the far end of the mat. When Jacob dug his fingers and toes into the mat to press himself towards the pile, Nadine clapped her hands in delight.
Mieka walked me to the door. “Score one for second chances,” she said.
When I got home there was a shiny black Lincoln in our driveway. I walked through the front door and was met by air heavy with the scent of musk. Seemingly, Darryl Colby had arrived early. As I took off my boots and greeted Willie, a man, who I deduced was Darryl Colby, came down the hall towards me.
He was tall, heavy-set, and deeply tanned; his hair, black as a raven’s wing, was freshly barbered. As he came nearer, it was clear Darryl Colby used aftershave as a weapon. He was scowling, and I didn’t blame him. Pantera was behind him, his nose lodged between the man’s legs, pushing him towards the door. Pantera rarely left Zack’s side, so the situation must have been grave.
“Leave it,” I said. Pantera stopped, withdrew his snout, and loped back down the hall to our room.
“Pantera’s protective,” I said.
“He’s a menace,” Darryl Colby said, wiping drool from his slacks. “He’s ruined this suit.”
“When you have it dry cleaned, please send us the bill,” I said. “Shall I show you to the door or can you find your way?”
“I can find my way,” he said. He jammed his feet into a pair of toe rubbers on the mat in the hall and stormed out.
I went down to our room. Zack was dressed and sitting in his wheelchair. “I take it your meeting didn’t go well,” I said.
Zack shrugged. “Could have been worse. Darryl could have kicked me in the nads.”
“Actually, Pantera may have done some damage to Darryl’s nads,” I said. “Your dog had his muzzle shoved pretty firmly into Mr. Colby’s private parts. Pantera’s never done that before. What happened?”
Zack’s smile was innocent. “Peter told me that the night Noah brought Jacob by, he taught Pantera to obey the
