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Shirlene
I’m in the basement, taking clean baby clothes out of the dryer. Cam is on the second floor, getting a lesson from Lauren, our hospice nurse, on how to correctly move Stan to use the bedpan, change the sheets, and avoid bedsores. Stan grumbled about it, but he realizes I can’t do everything.
I hear Lauren and Cam walking down the stairs. They say goodbye as the front door opens and closes over my head, and footsteps scramble down the cellar steps. Cam appears in the laundry-room doorway. He’s smiling.
“I take it things went well with Lauren.” I shake out a crib sheet with a snap. “Stan insists on military corners on his sheets.”
“Lauren told me.”
“Do you know how to make them?” I ask.
“Yes.” Cam leans on the doorjamb. “I wish you’d stayed.”
“I was in the way.”
“Don’t be that way.”
“What way?” I ask.
“You’re angry with me for going up to meet Stan.”
“I’m over it.”
“Judging from the way you are beating that baby blanket into submission, I guess you’re still pissed.”
“It’s a sheet.” I run my shaking hands softly over the fabric.
Cam moves closer and rests against the washer. He seems so comfortable in his body, yet there’s concern in his eyes. “I should have checked in with you first. I’m sorry.”
I begin folding tiny undershirts.
“Do you accept my apology or not?” he asks.
I lay baby clothes in the basket.
“I wanted to do more is all,” Cam says.
“Why? Why are you doing all this?”
“I’m not doing much.”
“Mowing. Food shopping. Cooking. Changing and bathing Arlene. Now you’re going to help with my husband.”
“Would you rather I didn’t?”
I toss the last pair of little socks into the basket. “I sound ungrateful.”
“What is this about, Shirlene?” He steps closer.
I move back a pace. “I’m not used to accepting help from anyone other than Hattie. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“I owe you. Think of it that way.”
“For what?”
“You have taken on Arlene like she’s your own child.”
My voice is sharp. “She is mine. I gave birth to her.”
Cam reaches out and touches my wrist. My stomach does a flip as I observe his large, warm hand.
He lets go. “Of course you did. But you were under no obligation to take this on. If it weren’t for you, I’d be all alone in this baby venture. I can’t imagine coping without you.”
For a moment, I wish he was still touching me, but I vehemently dismiss that longing and pick up the basket of clean laundry.
Cam takes the basket from me. “Your house, your rules. I won’t do anything like that again.”
I take a deep breath. “Don’t take Arlene up there.”
“Can I ask why?”
I notice a lone baby sock on top of the dryer and hold it up to my nose. The sweet smell reminds me of Danny. “We had a son who died when he was very small.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stan never...” I look into Cam’s eyes. “I need you to agree to this. I can’t take a chance on the baby upsetting Stan.”
“I won’t take the baby upstairs.”
“How can I trust you after you went up there to meet Stan? It upset him and me.”
“He’s getting over it. Although he won’t admit it, he likes the male company.”
“You’re too nonchalant, young man.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I’ve apologized, and I promise to check with you first.”
“I can’t trust you, Cameron.”