{ 6 }
Erin was challenging a piece of polymer to bend the way she wanted it to when her phone rang. She was still the temporary guardian of the little puppy with no name. She’d been ridiculously happy when Jared had asked if she could possibly hang on to the dog for a couple of days, so he could give Sadie her surprise closer to Christmas.
The phone startled both Erin and the puppy. She dropped her pliers to the table with a clatter. He leapt to his paws, barking his baby bark.
The sound, like a loud piano playing a single bar of music, erupted again.
“It’s my cell phone, sweetie. Calm down.”
But she felt strangely far from calm herself as she answered, “Hello?”
The cell phone was an emergencies-only concession to the people who loved her: her family and the very few close friends she trusted to respect her wishes to be alone and private this season.
But emergencies were never good things, so her heart picked up the pace as her mother said, “Erin. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Is everything okay back home?” Hospitals, fires, disasters of every possible type flipped through her mind as she waited.
“Everyone’s fine, dear. Honey, I wish you’d come home. There’s still plenty of time. It won’t be the same without you. Not Christmas.”
“We’ve been over this, Mom. You know I can’t. I’ll miss you like crazy, but I can’t face be there. Not this year.”
She knew her mother wouldn’t call her simply to repeat the same argument they’d had several times before she left, so she waited, feeling strangely tense.
“Erin, I do have some news. I wanted you to hear it from me.”
“What is it?” She sank to the floor and the pup cocked his head from one side to the other, then trotted over to crawl into her lap. His sweet, soft fur was the most wonderful thing she’d ever touched.
“I wish I could tell you this in person. I can’t make this any easier for you so I’ll just say it. George and Gina had a baby.”
The scream was loud and visceral and bounced around like the wails of a crazy woman. Except she didn’t make a sound. All the screaming was inside her head.
“A baby.” Her throat felt as though it had been scraped raw with sandpaper. It actually hurt to get the words out. “A boy or girl?”
“A little boy.”
Hers was a girl.
“Healthy?”
“I believe so. I’m so sorry, Erin. It should have been yours.”
“No. My baby should have been mine,” she cried. “My baby should have been born!”
“Erin, please come home. You shouldn’t be alone. Not at Christmas.”
“I’m not alone,” she said, running her hand over the warm body curled against her. “I picked up a guy. A real dog. I don’t even know his name.”
“Please come home. Please.”
“I can’t. I have to go.”
The phone fell to the floor. The puppy licked at her face and only then did she realize the tears were streaming down it.
“Of course I want their baby to be healthy. What kind of evil person wishes harm to an infant?” She swallowed a sob. “But I want my baby. My baby.”
The phone shrilled again. She grabbed it. Well-meaning or not, she was sick of the cotton candy wrap.
“I said ‘No!’” she yelled into the phone. “I am not coming home.”
“Erin?” a puzzled male voice said.
When would she realize they’d invented call display for a reason? She sniffed, tried to pull herself together. “Sorry. I thought you were my mother.”
“It’s Jared. Are you okay?”
She could lie. But she was sick of lying. “No.”
“Can I do anything?”
Suddenly, she didn’t want to be alone. Jared was the only person she knew even slightly here in Kaslo. She’d made sure to keep to herself. Let people think she was an eccentric recluse; it was close enough to the truth.
But not tonight. Not now.
“Could you come over?” Even as she said the words, she realized he couldn’t. The awkward pause only confirmed his situation. “Oh, I’m sorry. You’ve got Sadie. I’m not thinking. Of course you can’t.” She pulled in a breath. “I’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t you come over here? Sadie’s in bed. I’ve even got a spare room if you want to stay over.”
She tried to smile but the movement wouldn’t come. “And ruin your reputation? No. It’s okay. I had some news that sort of threw me. I’ll take a walk. Make some tea. I’ll be fine. Really. Little No-Name here is keeping me company.”
“I wish—”
“It’s fine. Why did you call?”
“I wondered how he’s doing.”
“Little No-name?” She rubbed the furry head. “I think he’s doing okay. He ate a big bowl of puppy chow, one bedroom slipper and one tennis shoe.”
“He’s eating your shoes?”
“And sleeping in my boots.”
“What?”
“One boot. I have these fur lined rain boots. He likes to crawl inside them and sleep. It’s probably the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. I have pictures.”
“But, your shoes.”
“Really, it’s fine. At least they weren’t my Jimmy Choos.”
There was silence.
“That was a joke I guess you have to be female to get.”