“She probably hates me now, but she’s such a good dog, she doesn’t know how to show it.”
My fingers tightened in Betty’s fur, but I smiled up to greet Adam.
“She knows—” A swirl of white sparks caught me off guard and I couldn’t finish. No, please, not now.
Adam pulled her away, and I clambered down from the cab, dusting off dog hair rather than meeting his eyes. You can do this. I picked fuzz off a bandage. Just focus on his face.
“How’s Cara doing?”
“You left Eileen with him?
“Well, she . . . they were talking science when I left.”
“You think she’s safe?”
“Yes.”
“Just yes?”
“Jesus, Adam, I am her mother.” He flinched, and I crossed my arms so they wouldn’t reach for him. “Just . . . give me a little credit, would you? Please?” Betty was sitting on her haunches between us, her head swiveling back and forth, expressive eyes full of concern. And the angels’ movement was distractingly erratic. I shouldn’t be here.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” For so much.
“Are you—”
“Does Cara still want company?” At his nod, I positioned the smile back on my face and started walking.
Sweet Betty moved with me, her warm fur brushing my leg, a living buffer between Adam and me. I wondered if she could sense the angels, too, because her ears kept flicking as if she could feel the glowing sparks tickling them. Or maybe she could hear them. Perhaps they had voices, and had answered every time I’d spoken, growing more and more frustrated over the decades, trying in vain to communicate with a hopelessly obtuse human who—
“You didn’t have to come.”
We’d stopped, having only made it as far as the stone patio. The view was peaceful, austere, and yet rich with the play of sunlight and shadow in the marsh grasses. And there was the long dock I hadn’t noticed on my first visit, with a white sport-fishing boat moored at the end. When had we stopped walking?
Betty nosed my hand, reminding me to answer.
“Wha . . . Why . . . ?” Focusing on his face wasn’t really working for me, so I bent down to ruffle Betty’s ears. “I wanted to come!”
“Lila . . . ”
“Are you going to introduce me to your son, or what?” I straightened and displayed as warm a grin as I could muster. Dozens of angels flitted back and forth along my line of sight, and seconds ticked by. Clearly, we were both struggling with things left unsaid, but this was a no-brainer. His wife and child were waiting.
“Yes,” he decided. The vivid specks of light faded in twos and threes. “Yes! I have a son for you to meet.”
His shoulders lifted, and the last of the angels winked out. As they should. I let him lead the way—Betty moving in tandem with me—as I struggled to squash my messy emotions. No matter what Sal intimated, my dreams of Adam were just the fantasies of a lonely woman.
“You haven’t talked to him yet, have you?” Adam’s hand was on the door knob, but he kept his back to me.
“Not really.”
“Don’t be frightened. To ask I mean.” He twisted the knob and opened the door; his words floating softly back to me as he stepped inside. “You’re not in this alone.”
Betty put her nose in my hand again, and so I walked forward. Her tail started wagging as she guided me up the stairs to her new furless pup, and I tried to share in her simple joy.
Cara, however, was not happy.
“He just doesn’t like me!” she wailed in harmony with the baby’s cries. Patting him on the back, she rocked to-and-fro in a fitful see-sawing motion that was making me want to wail, too. Even Adam wasn’t as implacable as usual.
“Here, let me hold him for a min—”
“No! He has to get used to me!” Her dark hair was longer and hung limply around her thin face. She’d been in that rocking chair since we’d walked into the room, and her slim hands looked gaunt against Traveler’s chubby curves. “Shhh, shhh! Oh, he didn’t cry like this with them!”
I didn’t need any special gift to see Adam’s energy bleed away. He sank onto the edge of the bed, looking lost and out of place among the roses and cream decor.
“Aw, babies cry, Cara. A lot! Let me try something . . . ” She frowned when I bent down to Traveler, but I ignored her and focused on him. He was certainly focused on me. The dark lashes around his huge blue eyes held thick drops of tears and even streaks of mucus from crying so hard. I waved my fingers and wrinkled my nose, and his heaving breaths slowed to shuddering gulps. Poor baby. How long had she been trying to rock him? “Hey there, little one . . . ” I cooed. “Wanna look out the window with me?” I scooped him out of Cara’s arms, pretending not to notice how her fingers dragged at his onesie.
Sheesh, poor babe’s hot! He radiated heat like . . . well, like Sal. Cara had probably thought he was flushed from crying, but to my cool arms I could tell he was miserably overheated.
“You know, Eileen was funny about sitting.” I cradled the adorably chunky boy in my arms as we considered each other carefully. “She had to be up at eye level with the rest of us. Too much to see, right Traveler? Too much to learn?” I unsnapped his onesie down to his pudgy little belly and pulled one arm out so I could dab his face with the sleeve.
Whether from relief at the cool air—or maybe it was just gas—he smiled and burbled at me.
“You are a big boy, aren’t you? Did you give your mommy a tough time?” I tickled his belly, and he burbled again. “Look at these muscles!” I gently squeezed one thick little leg, and he kicked. “Are you gonna grow up big and strong like your daddy?”
It was a natural thing to say, and Adam’s beaming smile was worth it,
