| |
We made ourselves Ramen noodles for dinner and threw out our last batch of leftover brown rice. We put Natalie to bed early and are cuddling on the couch watching a movie.
“Your hair smells so good,” he whispers.
“Blame it on that long shower we took.” For once, I’m not worried about the utility bill.
We’re not paying attention to the movie. It’s pretty dumb anyway. All that happens in the whole two hours is a woman gets laid off and travels Europe trying to find herself. It’s just nice having something besides a cooking show on for a change.
“I have to pick up the car tonight,” Jake says. I still can’t believe the way he got his mother out the door. I keep worrying he’ll change his mind. Run down to the hotel, throw himself on his knees, and beg Patricia to come back. It’s like this is too perfect to last. Too many good things happening in one day. Grandma Lucy telling me my daughter will live. Jake manning up and kicking his mom out of the house. Blame it on my tendency to self-sabotage if you will, but I’m fighting the uneasy feeling that something terrible has to happen soon to balance out all the good.
“How are you going to get to the hotel?” I ask.
“It’s not far. I’ll ride my bike.”
“What about her things?” I remember the oversized suitcase Patricia showed up with the day she arrived on our porch. I should have known at that point what an ominous sign all that baggage was.
Jake frowns. “Guess I’ll have to walk.”
I don’t want him to go out. It will be dark before long. I want to stay here in our little toasty trailer and enjoy each other’s company. The funny thing is this feels more like our wedding night than the Ronald McDonald house ever did.
Jake pauses the movie. “We can finish this when I get back. I don’t want it to get too late.”
I surprise myself by saying, “Well, why don’t we come with you?”
“You and the baby?”
“Why not?” Natalie will sleep right through it anyway, and the temperature’s been in the forties all day. “I’ll put her in that front pack,” I tell Jake. “I can zip her up in my parka so she doesn’t get cold.”
He frowns. “You sure you want to?”
I shrug. “Beats sitting around here.”
He stands up. “Ok. I’ll pack the suitcase while you get Natalie ready. Just make sure to bundle her up real well.”
It’s cute the way he worries about his daughter. I tell him I’ll be extra careful and watch him walk down the hall, right past the spot where he told his mom off and slammed the door in her face. I told you that man surprises me sometimes.
It takes me a few minutes to dig the front pack out from under my bed. A friend of mine from Winter Grove gave it to me when she found out I was pregnant. I haven’t tried it on yet. I don’t even know how to wear it. Everything gets tangled up before I can figure out where my arms are supposed to go.
It takes me about a dozen tries, but I finally get it on over my hoodie and walk into Patricia’s room. I’m going to have to get used to calling it the nursery again. Jake’s zipping up his mom’s oversized travel bag, and I reach down to pick up our baby.
“Uh-oh.”
My body tenses.
“What is it?”
I’m trembling. Didn’t I tell you I had a premonition that something like this was about to happen?
I can’t find my voice.
“What’s wrong?” Jake is standing beside me, and we’re both staring at our daughter. “What?”
I reach out, praying that I’m wrong. I touch her forehead. “Feel this,” I tell Jake, hoping to heaven that it’s just me.
Jake’s frown is enough to tell me I’m not mistaken.
Our daughter is burning up with fever.
PART THREE:
Natalie