happily. As Callie watched, she picked up a handful of mashed potatoes and threw it at Grant. The little splat landed on the side of his nose. Molly gurgled happily. Callie could almost hear her saying, “Touchdown!”
Grant turned toward Callie with a see-what-she-did look on his face.
And Callie responded cheerfully with, “Okay. That does it. We’re getting rid of the white rug.”
Grant looked confused as he wiped mashed potatoes from his face. “What?”
She shrugged. “The white rug has to go. Do you think Molly is the only baby who’s going to throw food all over it? White rugs are not compatible with happy babies.”
“But…”
“You just wait.” She pointed to her still-tiny tummy. “This guy is going to tear this place apart.”
He looked a bit nonplussed.
“We’re going to have to baby-proof all the rooms,” she said.
“Baby-proof my apartment?”
“Didn’t you do that for…?”
She stopped. She’d almost said Lisa’s name. That was against the unspoken rules. She saw something flicker in his eyes.
But at the same time, she was having second thoughts. This was all wrong. They couldn’t dance around this issue the rest of their lives. Lisa had been a real person and deserved to be spoken about like a real person. The way he was treating her, she wasn’t real anymore-she was a museum relic wrapped in protective gauze and kept from human view. He must have memories of her that he cherished. Wouldn’t it be better if it was possible for him to bring them back out and honor them?
“I’m sure you did a lot of child-proofing once Lisa began to toddle around the room,” she said deliberately.
He looked up at her, startled. It was probably the first time he’d ever heard his baby’s name out of her mouth. He stared at her for a long moment, then, without saying a word, he turned and left the room.
Well, it looked like that had been a big mistake. But what else could she do? And something had to be done.
She got a red lollipop for Molly. She’d brought over Tina’s store of them and put them in a drawer in the kitchen. She still didn’t really approve of Molly having them, but she was willing to let her for a while. She had so many new things to learn and new rules to follow. She liked the idea of giving her as many things from her life with Tina as she could, at least for the time being.
But she also had to work on this fixation of Grant’s. The next night, she tried a new method.
She and Grant were sitting on the couch, talking quietly just before bed. Suddenly she brought up something she knew he was going to resist.
“I think we should put up a picture of Jan and Lisa.”
He froze, staring at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Grant, they were a huge part of your life. You can’t block that out and pretend it never happened.”
“I don’t.” His voice sounded like gravel on glass. “Believe me. I think of them every hour of every day.”
“Yes, but you think of them in a horrible way. You think of their deaths and how miserable you are without them. You should think about the good times. Maybe if we put up pictures…”
He was shaking his head. “You don’t understand at all.”
She ignored that. “Let’s let the rest of our little family know who they were and that they are still important.”
He was scowling blackly. “They’re only important to me.”
“No. You’re wrong. They are a part of who you are. And that’s important to me.”
He scoffed. “Should we put up a picture of Ralph, too?”
She shook her head. “No. Ralph wasn’t really important to anyone but his mother.” She smiled, thinking of it. “Funny, but I think his mother was always more important to me than he was.”
Which reminded her, a visit to Marge was overdue. It had been two weeks since she’d gone by to see her mother-in-law. It was time to go and tell her about the pregnancy-even though she probably wouldn’t understand.
Grant hadn’t agreed to let her put up the pictures she wanted to display. She would work on it. Eventually she was sure he would give in. After all, it was to his benefit that he do so. But for tonight, she’d at least pushed a hint of a nose under the tent. And now it was time to start anticipating bedtime-her favorite time of day.
The next night, she had a new angle.
“Could we get a better scanner for the computer?” she asked him. “The one we have here is pretty flaky and I’ve seen new models that do a much better job on photos.”
“What are you scanning?”
“I found a cupboard full of pictures of…of Jan and Lisa. I want to copy them so that…”
“What?” He stared as though he thought she’d gone crazy.
“For scrapbook pages. Have you seen the sort of scrapbooking that everyone is doing these days? That’s what I want to do. I want to make a scrapbook filled with the story of your life with your first family. Because the history needs to be preserved and told and not let to drift away.”
He didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t comment, and the next night, she found a new scanner in the entryway.
She fixed up the little office off the kitchen as a scrapbooking room. She had pictures on bulletin boards all around as she tried to work out how she wanted to do her pages and develop a timeline. She started it as a duty but she quickly learned to love doing it. Every evening she tried to go in and spend some time working on her project. On at least two occasions, Grant came to the door and looked in. He didn’t say anything. But the second time he stayed, watching her work for a good ten minutes before he turned away.
The next day, she took one of the best pictures she’d found-a studio photo of Jan and Lisa-and had it framed, then put it up in the hallway. When Grant came home that night it was the first thing he saw.
“What the hell is that?” he demanded.
“I think you can see what it is.” She tried to remain calm but her heart was beating like a drum.
He turned to glare at her. “If I wanted a picture like that up I’d have put it up,” he said.
“This isn’t for you, necessarily,” she said stoutly. “It’s for me. And for the baby that’s coming. You don’t have to walk by this part of the hallway if you can’t stand it. You can walk the other way.”
He gazed down at her with his brow furled. “Callie, what the hell are you trying to do?”
“I think you have to try to normalize your feelings. You can’t let wounds fester forever.”
He slapped the wall with his open hand and barked, “What right do you have to decide how my wounds should heal?”
She drew breath deep into her lungs and faced him bravely. “For myself, none at all. But I do have a right for our baby.”
He stared at her for a long moment, but he shook his head. “No,” he said. “Maybe you can make that argument after the baby comes. But you can’t make it now.” Reaching out, he took down the picture. “Sorry, Callie,” he said coolly. “No can do.”
He walked off with the picture, but she noticed that he was looking at it. So she’d lost this round. But every time he was forced to talk about his first family, or look at pictures of them, she felt it moved him more toward accepting the past. And maybe she was just kidding herself, but she felt she was making progress. At least she hoped so.
CHAPTER TEN
CALLIE was clearing away the dishes from dinner a few nights later. Grant helped her, then dropped down onto the couch to read the paper. Out of the corner of her eye, Callie could see Molly, who was supposed to be in bed, wending her way into the room, hugging the shadows as though she knew she wasn’t really welcome.
Callie turned to get rid of the glasses she was putting away before she could intercept Molly. But the little girl was too fast for her, and by the time she’d turned back, Molly was already at Grant’s knee, tugging on his slacks with one sticky hand and holding out a half-eaten red lollipop with the other.
