Naomi set her soup bowl down with a clatter and hustled toward the kitchen door, Hades tight on her heels. “Is there some plain broth that can be heated up for her? I know you’ve got the IV going, but I really need her to eat something.”
She turned when Rowan didn’t follow her, and found all three of them staring at each other in silence. A cool snake of alarm writhed down her spine. “Who is this Verity she’s asking for? Is there someone here by that name?”
The charming young pastor answered with obvious reluctance. “Yes. We have a woman named Verity here…”
Naomi craned to look out the doorway. Macy was accepting adoring chin-kisses from Persephone, smiling and stroking the tiny dog, and looked okay for the moment. She turned back to face the three of them fully. She didn’t have time to tiptoe around this. “Why is this making all of you so uncomfortable? I told you Macy knows things. She told me there would be people here in Woodland Park that could help us, and there were. What is it about this Verity?”
“Well,” a soft voice floated from the doorway on the far side of the kitchen, “It might be that I grow marijuana.”
Naomi looked up to find an angel made manifest, and didn’t even feel surprised. “Verity, I presume?”
“I am.” The woman’s smile was a glory to behold. “I love timing an entrance perfectly. It truly is one of my finest talents.” She brushed back her darling angel-blonde curls. “I also have a habit of saying what everyone is thinking but no one wants said. It’s off-putting, I’m told. Oh, and I communicate with the dead, which is why Macy wants to see me. May I go introduce myself?”
“I suspect introductions won’t be necessary,” Naomi said dryly, though her heart was pounding. Why would Macy have asked for this woman by name? Why not Rowan? “Let’s go.”
She plodded after the delicate, floating Verity, and watched what could only be called a reunion. Verity knelt by Macy’s cot, and the two gazed at each other in wordless delight for a long moment, hands twining together. Then Macy reached her arms up for a hug. “I dreamed of you. I’m so happy to meet you face to face at last.”
“And I you, little sister.” Verity leaned back from the embrace, and curled one of Macy’s strawberry curls around her finger. Her expression was tender. “You made it just in time.”
“I know.” Macy’s gaze flickered to Naomi. “Mama, I could eat some soup. Would you bring me some?”
There was something terrifying moving under the surface of this exchange. Naomi raised her eyebrows and tried for a light tone. “You don’t want soup. You just want to get rid of me.”
Verity’s laughter rang like Christmas bells. “She’s right, little sister. Say what you mean. Always.”
Macy looked chagrined for a heartbeat, then sighed. “Okay. Mama, would you please let me talk to Verity alone for a while?”
Naomi knelt on the other side of the cot, searching her daughter’s eyes. “Why? Why can’t I hear what you have to say to her?”
Macy glanced at Verity, who nodded. Her eyes returned to Naomi, shuttered and unreadable. “I need to talk to her about some things I’m not ready to talk to you about yet. About Daddy and Piper, and some other things.”
Naomi stroked the soft curve of her cheek, and traced a finger down her little nose. For this moment, she would allow herself to believe Macy. She would go heat some soup, and pretend that it would help. She could feel a division forming in her mind, a barrier between what was, and what could not be. What must not be. “Will you tell me? When you’re ready?”
“I promise.”
Naomi rose and headed for the kitchen, ruthlessly focusing her attention on her footsteps and not on the soft murmur of voices behind her. Beside her, Hades was whining, low and constant, expressing her own anxiety. She dropped her hand to his head, sent his heart a pulse of comfort, and kept on walking.
In the kitchen, conversation hushed the minute she stepped into the doorway. Jack, Layla and Rowan all stared at her from wary, pitying eyes. From out of nowhere, rage boiled up, red-hot and uncontrollable. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” Naomi snapped. “As if I didn’t know you were talking about us! It doesn’t take supernatural ability to figure that out!”
Her eyes lasered in on Rowan. “Tell me. All of it. I can’t help her if I don’t know.”
Rowan tilted her head respectfully. “Okay. Your daughter survived the pneumonic version of the plague, but the bacteria multiplied in her blood, resulting in septicemia. Her organs are failing.”
A high-pitched buzzing started in Naomi’s ears and bright lights darted and swooped in front of her eyes. She took a deep breath and forced, forced herself to stay calm, to keep questioning, to find solutions. “Is there a surgeon here? I can donate a kidney, and I’ve read that I can donate part of my liver and still survive.”
Rowan shook her head. “She’s bleeding internally, and has been for days. Even if we had someone capable of performing such a specialized surgery, she wouldn’t survive the procedure.” Her gaze didn’t waver from Naomi’s even though she was delivering the worst possible news, the most unthinkable news. “Her body is shutting down. It’s just a matter of time.”
The high-pitched buzz became a hollow roar, and Naomi’s vision shrank to a pinpoint. Her head felt so strange – tight and too hot and tingly. She blinked over and over, and found herself sitting in a chair with Jack and Layla hovering at her shoulders, Rowan kneeling in front of her.
Rowan grasped her hands tightly. “Let us move Macy to Layla and Jack’s cottage. I can keep her comfortable, and we’ll be there to support you. After.”
Naomi stared into her eyes, searching for even a trace of uncertainty. “They said the same thing about the plague. That no one would survive. My husband died, but Macy didn’t. She didn’t. She beat the odds once, she could do it again. You could be wrong.”
Rowan’s eyes were tortured with sorrow and knowledge. She shook her head again. “Naomi, it’s not just an educated guess. I see. Do you understand? I can see people from a medical perspective. I knew Jack would live. And I know Macy won’t.” She squeezed Naomi’s hands so tightly, their bones grated together. “I’m not sure why she’s alive now. Please. Let us help you both.”
Jack’s hand came to rest gently on her shoulder. “She’s right, Naomi. Please let us help. Are you a person of faith? We’ll pray with you-”
Naomi surged to her feet so fast she knocked the chair over. She glared at each of them in turn, then fixed her gaze on Jack. “Your God,” she hissed, “Is not here. He has left us, if he was ever here at all. What kind of God could let such a sweet, beautiful, little girl die? To have survived so much, just to die now? How is that fair? How is that right?”
Tears slid steadily from the corners of Layla’s eyes. “I don’t have words for how sorry I am,” she said brokenly. “I wish there was some way you would let us help you.”
Jack’s voice, too, was rough with barely-controlled emotion. “If you’ll allow it, we’ll hold vigil with you, and be with you in your time of grief. I know you’re angry at God, but I believe He sent you to us for a purpose.”
“What purpose could any of this have?” Everything that had been building and growing in her, all the anger, uncertainty and fear that she’d been hiding from both Macy and herself, burst free. “What possible ‘reason’ could there be for a plague that wipes out mankind, except that God is finished with us? There’s nothing of God in this – it’s natural law! We poisoned our own nest. Animals that foul their nests are doomed. In just a few weeks, our children are reduced to hunting pets for food. What’s next? Hunting each other? I don’t want to live in a world like this. I won’t live in a world without-”
She broke off and turned her back on them, taking her bowl and spoon to the sink, an automatic gesture that gave her shaking hands something to do. Standing there, she closed her eyes, groping her way forward. There had to be another answer. Had to be.
A preternatural calm settled around her. She turned to face the three of them, her face frozen, her eyes burning and dry as dust. “If there’s nothing more you can do for her, Macy and I will head to the cabin this afternoon. Piper is probably already there.”
They exchanged glances again, Rowan’s lips parted to speak, and Naomi let slip control of what was raging inside her.
“Don’t,” she snarled. Jack and Layla both took a staggering step back. Beside her, Hades seemed to expand, bristling to his full height, his broad chest ripping with a growl that pitched and rolled with violence. She reveled in her fury, in his fury, in the power of it to hold back the grief that would stop her heart. “Don’t say a word, any of you. It’s done.”
She left the kitchen on numb legs, the only spot of feeling in her body the bright flame of rage that consumed her chest. Verity looked up at her approach. She stood, still holding Macy’s hand.
“Thank you for letting us talk. Your daughter will be fine.” She reached out and laced her fingers with Naomi’s. “You’ll both be fine.”
Naomi blinked in shock. For just a moment, it seemed as if they were surrounded by beings so beautiful, they hurt her eyes to look at. Verity released her hand, she blinked again, and the impression was gone.
An impish smile, a brush of her fingertips on Macy’s cheek, and Verity turned and headed for the exit. She stopped a few steps shy of the door and turned back. “Oh, I almost forgot! Scott says the duct tape was perfect.”
She could not have heard that correctly. “Excuse me?”
“Scott. He loved the duct tape. It made him laugh, and he says he knew then that you would do whatever you had to do, improvise however you had to, in order to survive.” Verity beamed at her. “He’s so very proud of you.”
Naomi’s legs went out from under her. She collapsed on the end of Macy’s cot, deaf and blind to everything around her. Old, rational thought processes kicked in first: How could she possibly have known that? No one knew about the duct tape she’d used to secure Scott’s makeshift shroud, no one but her. Well, and Scott. And now Verity.
He was proud of her. Why that, of all things, should break her wide open, she could not say. She curled up next to Macy and sobbed. So afraid, she’d been so afraid she was inadequate to the task, doing the wrong things, failing to protect her daughter, failing at everything in this new world she was so ill-equipped to navigate. Scott was proud of her. Validation from beyond the grave. Her sobs dissolved into hiccupping laughter. He had promised her, over and over, that he’d always be there for her. The man certainly knew how to keep a promise.
Gradually, her sobs subsided and she returned to awareness to feel Macy stroking her hair, Hades curled in the curve of her legs, Persephone tucked against her chest. She drifted in a twilight between sleep and wakefulness for a long time, resting deeply, permitting her mind to float on the soft, surface currents of silence and physical comfort. Occasionally she was aware of a muffled noise from the kitchen, but Jack and Layla kept their distance, and Rowan intruded only to change Macy’s IV bag.
Hours had passed when she was roused by a need for the bathroom. Macy was sleeping again, and Naomi scrutinized her in the dim light. She looked better. She really did. Her skin was less gray, and her eyes didn’t seem as sunken. Moving as gently as her stiff joints would allow, she extricated herself from her softly snoring dogs and shuffled to the bathroom, taking a moment when she was finished to wash her face with deliciously warm water and restore some order to her crooked ponytail.
When she returned, Macy was awake and Rowan was at her side. They both looked up at Naomi’s approach, and Macy made a disgusted face. “She had me use a bedpan, Mama! So gross!”
Naomi was sure her face cracked when she forced it to smile. “Gross for you? What about Rowan?”
“Just part of my glamorous job.” Rowan stood up, holding said bedpan with a towel draped over it. “I’ll go take care of this. When I come back, we’ll take out the IV. That she’s urinating tells us we’ve brought her body back to a hydrated state.”
Naomi’s head came up, and she searched Rowan’s eyes for some encouragement, some hope. Rowan met her gaze steadily, and shook her head.
Well. She was entitled to her opinion, but medical professionals could be wrong. Macy had proved that already. Naomi knelt by her side.
“When Rowan’s done, we’ll get around and head to the cabin. I’d like to get there before dark.” She licked her thumb and gently rubbed Macy’s grubby cheek. “You can take a bath in the tub by the fireplace, if you’re feeling up to it. I’ll bet Piper’s already there, waiting for us.”
Macy gazed at her, something deep and unknowable moving in her eyes. “Okay, Mama. I’m ready.”
She left both dogs with Macy, silently commanding them to stay. While they had all slept, Martin had returned with the kids from Cascade. They were both asleep on cots at the far end of the multi-purpose room, an older woman Naomi hadn’t met seated between them, reading. She looked up when Naomi stopped in front of her, and nodded a greeting.
“I see Martin found them,” Naomi said. “Are they okay?”
The woman reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of the girl’s face. “No. They’re not.”
Naomi swallowed. “I wish I could have helped them.”
“No one could have. Their bodies will recover – other than being hungry and dehydrated, they’re both fine. But her mind is broken. I don’t know about the boy yet.”
Naomi looked at the woman more closely. “You can see that? Like Rowan?”
“Not exactly like Rowan, no. She sees medical conditions. I see…a path. I can see the way a person is likely to go forward. I’m not always right, but most of the time.” She smoothed the girl’s hair again, tucking a greasy strand behind a grimy ear with great tenderness. “This one will always be like a child, I’m afraid. She’s gone back in her mind to a time that was safe, and I don’t think she’ll leave it. Her brother, well, as I said I just don’t know. He loves animals, and what they were doing to survive broke his heart. We’ll just have to see how he mends.”
She looked across the room then, at Macy. “Your daughter is beautiful. Such lovely hair.”
“Thank you.” The woman’s eyes returned to Naomi, and in them, she saw knowledge and empathy. Naomi held up her hand, warding off her words. “No,” she said softly. “Some paths can be changed.”
“Yes. They can.” But the woman looked down, and Naomi could hear the certainty and sorrow in her voice. “Go with God on your journey. We’ll be here, when you need us.”
Naomi found Jack, Layla and Martin in the church parking lot, standing next to the little pick-up Naomi had driven from Cascade and a dusty black late-model SUV. Jack gestured to the newer vehicle as Naomi walked up.
“If it’s okay, we moved your gear to the SUV. It’s full of gas, and it’s…well…cleaner.”
In other words, someone hadn’t died in it. Naomi nodded. “I appreciate it very much. I’ll return it as soon as I’m able.”
“No need.” Martin spoke this time. “It was my wife’s. She doesn’t need it anymore.”
Naomi bent her head. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She could feel Martin’s discomfort with her sympathy, and pressed on. “Thank you for getting the kids in Cascade. It’s a relief to my mind.”
“It was no trouble.” He kept his eyes on his scuffing feet, his voice gruff. “I just hope someone is helping my kids, if they need it.”
Naomi nodded at Jack and Layla then, keeping her expression polite and remote. “I am very grateful for your help.”
Layla stepped forward. “I know you said your cabin was stocked with supplies, but if you need anything, please don’t hesitate. We’re here.” She reached for Naomi’s hand and tucked a small bag into it. “And it would mean a lot to me if you would take this.”
“What is it?”
“A protective charm.” Layla seemed uncomfortable for a moment, her eyes darting to Jack. Then she lifted her chin. “You can think of it as a prayer made physical, for you and Macy. It holds some elements that I hope will bring healing and peace to you both. Yarrow. Angelica. A piece of chrysoprase.”
Naomi closed her hand around the small blue velvet bag, and to her surprise, felt a warmth that was distinctly “Layla.” She nodded her gratitude. “I don’t know anything about charms, but I appreciate the thought behind it.”
Silence, then, filled with things no one wanted said.
Naomi left them standing there and hurried back to Macy. She’d been so glad to find other people, and now she didn’t know how much longer she could stand the pressure of their unspoken words. Rowan, too, was silent as Naomi gathered her daughter in her arms, trailing behind her as she carried her out of the church basement and into the late-afternoon sunshine.
Martin opened the back door of the SUV, and both dogs leaped in obediently. Naomi settled Macy in the front passenger seat, fastened the seat belt around her, then turned for a final goodbye.
Verity stood in the center of the group now, the sun on her head and shoulders somehow brighter than on the others. She smiled at Naomi, her face infused at once with wisdom, mischief and sorrow. “Don’t wander too long in the ghostlands, Naomi. You’re needed elsewhere.”
Oh, how she wanted to get in the SUV and drive, to pretend she hadn’t heard. But her feet were rooted to the spot, and a reply forced its way through her stiff lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Nostalgia can comfort, but the past belongs to the dead. Visions of the future can urge us on, but it’s a place with no substance. Your power is needed in the here and now.”
“My power.” Naomi shook her head. “I suppose you’re going to tell me God has a plan for me, too? Well how about this? What if God does have a plan, and it’s to wash his hands of us? You know, like a loving parent would do with a grown kid who just can’t stop screwing up – you’ve got to stop enabling them, right? What if this intuitive evolution or whatever is a parting gift? What if it’s God’s way of saying, ‘You’re on your own. Good luck. I’m out of here.’”
Jack looked pained, but Verity’s smile was transcendent. “What an amazing idea!” She cocked her head to the side for a moment as if listening, then grinned. “Raphael says he thinks you’re on to something.”
Naomi stared. What could she possibly say to that? She shook her head, and was still shaking it as she got behind the wheel of the SUV, started the engine, and drove out of the parking lot without looking again at any of them.
Beside her, Macy stared out the side window in what appeared to be a half-doze. Naomi didn’t know if she had heard Verity’s words, and she had no intention of asking. She reached out and tucked the soft blanket Rowan had given them more closely under her chin. “How’re you doing, baby? Are you warm enough?”
Macy’s head rolled towards her, and she blinked a few times. Her little forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Mama? Where are we?”
Naomi’s palms went greasy on the steering wheel. “We’re headed to the cabin, remember? To meet Piper?”
“Oh.” She thought about it for a few seconds. “I remember now.” Her eyes drifted shut, and her head rolled back towards the window. “So sleepy.”
Naomi stopped the SUV in the middle of the road – no traffic to worry about – and reached across Macy to recline her seat. Macy murmured, but didn’t open her eyes. Naomi stared at her for a minute, then two, and finally forced herself to put the vehicle in motion again.
They cruised along without incident, Naomi analyzing their surroundings constantly for trouble to be avoided. Martin had assured her that their route should be safe, but nothing was certain. When they passed the water treatment facility and turned to wind up Rampart Range Road, she felt some of her terrible tension begin to uncoil.
The road twisted through dark pines and past huge, rounded boulders. After making sure the blanket was still warmly tucked around Macy, Naomi cracked her window and lifted her nose to the soft spring breeze. She loved the smell of the air up here. She had been coming to this cabin over half her life, since she and Scott started dating, and she never failed to appreciate the beauty and peace of this place. Even now, even under these circumstances, she could feel the muscles in her neck and shoulders loosen, feel her stomach relax.
The road lifted them into high mountain meadows, interspersed with thick stands of pine and aspen. Though it seemed remote, this was actually a well-traveled area. To the southeast, Rampart Reservoir was a popular camping and recreational area. Not many people, though, were even aware of the string of eight man-made lakes so close by. The people who lived and played on Carrol Lakes preferred it that way.
Scott used to call this place his “true north.” He had inherited the cabin from his father, who had inherited it from his father, who had built it in the 1920’s. Scott had proposed to her here, on a paddle boat in the middle of the lake. Would he be here? Would Macy be able to see him once again, instead of just feeling his presence?
Naomi reached over to fuss with the blanket and Macy startled, sucking in a sudden breath of air, but not waking. She seemed to hold the breath for a long, long time, releasing it slowly, and Naomi frowned. She switched her gaze back and forth between the road and Macy, until she finally sucked in another deep breath, only to release it in slow increments again.
Naomi resisted the urge to step on the accelerator; these dirt roads were tricky under the best of circumstances, and she was in an unfamiliar vehicle. All she wanted to do was tuck Macy safely into the soft little trundle she always slept on when they stayed here, to surround her with the familiar and the comfortable, to begin the process of nursing her back to health.
It hardly seemed real when they finally pulled in at the cabin, the evening orange, pink and still warm with the lowering sun. Naomi put the SUV in park, then sat there with it running for a moment, making sure all looked and felt as it should, running her eyes along the familiar, whimsical lines of the little cabin. Home. Home at last, after the longest of journeys.
She shut off the ignition and popped the back door open for the dogs. They bounded out, both of them energized with the joy she was feeling. Then she went around the SUV to get Macy. She unbuckled the seatbelt from around her daughter, then shook her shoulder gently.
“Macy, honey, we’re here! We’re home!”
Macy’s eyes fluttered. She stared at Naomi, confused again, then a little smile lifted her lips. “I was having the nicest dream.” Her words slurred together, and a stab of alarm cut through Naomi’s euphoria. “There were horses…”
Her voice trailed off, and Naomi bent to lift her with arms that were suddenly shaking. “You can tell me all about it while I get a fire started. You’re so cold, honey, why didn’t you say something?”
She hurried toward the cabin, Macy light as dust in her arms. They were almost to the porch when Macy’s body twitched. She drew in another deep breath, but this one rattled. Her head lolled back, and her eyes met Naomi’s, wide with terror. “Mama! Mama, I’m scared!”
“Shh, baby, shh. I’ve got you.” She sank to her knees, curling around her daughter, trying to use her own body to shelter, to warm, to protect, to bind. “We’re almost home. We’re almost there, my baby.”
The fear seeped out of Macy’s eyes. She blinked, once. Twice. Then her face lit with a smile of such beauty, Naomi would see it every time she closed her eyes for the rest of her life. Macy exhaled, gazing over Naomi’s shoulder, and on that exhale, greeted her father.
“Daddy.”
She didn’t inhale again. Naomi stared at her daughter’s still face and shook her, gently at first, then with more force. “Macy! Macy, answer me, God damn it! Macy!”
But Macy was no longer inhabiting those glazed eyes. Something tore free in Naomi’s chest and lifted out of her body, taking with it light, life, meaning, joy. She clutched Macy to her and huddled around the emptiness, the husk that had been her baby girl. Distantly, she heard the dogs howling, Hades’ deep and broken voice sliced by Persephone’s higher-pitched wails. A scream was jammed in her own chest, but she couldn’t draw enough air to release it. Then, she heard Scott.
“Honey, for pity’s sake, be careful! Let me help you up – are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
Naomi lifted her head, and there he was. His hands were full of balloons, flowers and gift bags, and he was scowling at her. The sun bouncing off the snow and ice surrounding him was so bright, it nearly blinded her.
She looked down, resettling Macy in her arms, making sure her tiny face was covered and protected from the biting cold. Icy moisture seeped through the knees of the maternity jeans she wore. It irked her to be back in them, but she had to admit they were warmer than the cheerful sundress she had packed. That’s what she got for packing her hospital bag on an optimistically warm spring day. A late-season blizzard had surprised even the weather forecasters, so instead of the adorable, Easter-egg-plaid going-home outfit she’d bought for Macy, the baby was layered in long-sleeved hospital onesies and jury-rigged receiving blankets. Behind her, she heard the front door burst open.
“You’re home!” Piper slipped and skidded down the front steps. She helped Naomi to her feet with uncharacteristic gentleness, then reached out to touch the blanket covering her new baby sister. Her face glowed with delight. “Can I hold her when we get inside? Oh, and we don’t have any power. I started a fire in the wood-burner.”
“Fantastic.” Scott joined them and took Naomi’s elbow firmly. They shuffled along, Naomi feeling both awkward and nimble, still trying to adapt to the abrupt gravity-shift that went with giving birth. Piper bounded up the steps ahead of them and slipped in the door.
“I’ll make sure the dogs don’t take you out, Mom. They missed you.”
Once they were inside, Naomi closed her eyes and inhaled. Home. Even with the chill in the air, the warmth of it folded around her. She made her way to the keeping room, Scott trailing behind her, shedding packages and parcels as he went.
Persephone danced around her feet, while Zeus bounded back and forth between her and Scott, never able to decide who he was happier to see. Naomi looked around for a moment, wondering where Hades was, but the thought fluttered away as quickly as it had come.
As promised, Piper had built a fire in the wood-burning stove. She had also dragged in a mattress – probably from the daybed in the guest room – and made up a neat and cozy bed close to the fire. A pot simmered on top of the stove – by the smell, she was heating some of the turkey soup Naomi had made then frozen at Christmas time. Piper fussed with the pillows on the bed, then gestured to the pot.
“I thought you’d be hungry. And this is the only place that’s warm, until the electricity comes back on.”
Naomi opened her mouth to thank her, but before she could speak, Piper pointed at her, shaking her head.
“Don’t say anything!” Her expression was equal parts embarrassment and pride. “Just because I don’t embrace ‘Martha Stewart’ doesn’t mean I can’t.”
Naomi walked right past her daughter’s prickles, cupped the back of her huffy head, and pulled her in for a smacking kiss. “I will say ‘thank you.’ You’re so thoughtful, honey. I appreciate you.” Then she held out the baby. “Do you want to hold your little sister?”
Piper slid her arms under Macy and cuddled her close, eyes locked on the baby’s tiny, smushed, red face. “Oh,” she breathed. “Look how perfect she is. Look how beautiful.”
Scott moved a rocking chair close to the fire, and Piper sank into it, never taking her eyes off her sister’s face. Naomi watched, heart-full, as her oldest daughter fell in love with her youngest. Scott slid an arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
“What am I going to do with all these pretty girls?” He murmured. “If only my high school buddies could see me now. Scott the Nerd, surrounded by cute chicks.” They smiled into each other’s eyes, enjoying their history and these new moments, as their family re-formed into something wondrous and new. Then he let her go and started his characteristic bustling.
“This settles it, honey. We’re getting a generator, just as soon as I can get to the store and buy one.” He left the room, and puffed back in a few minutes later with another mattress. “No reason we can’t all be comfortable. If the power doesn’t come back on, we’ll end up sleeping here anyway. Have a seat, honey, and I’ll dish us up some soup.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon and the evening cocooned in the warmth of that room, admiring the baby and playing games, smiling as the dogs approached with cautious sniffs, laughing at Ares’ haughty disdain for the tiny new interloper. The power wouldn’t come back on until the following morning, a fact Naomi would always remember with profound gratitude.
She lay in the stillness late that night, nursing the baby, listening to the soft pop and hiss of the fire, and reveling in the perfection of this slice of time. Piper was burrowed deep in the covers, only her eyes and forehead showing, as usual. Scott was curved around her back, his big body warm, strong, familiar. And this tiny new person, sweet little mouth tugging at her breast, little body curved with the intensity of a nursing newborn, a whole new adventure spreading out before them. She drifted to sleep knowing in her bones that this moment, this exact moment, was the happiest moment of her life.
Naomi opened her eyes. She was lying on the floor in front of the cold fireplace in the cabin. Hades was pressed against her back, from her nape to her knees, and Persephone was curled under her chin, against her chest.
Between her and the fireplace, wrapped in the soft, peach blanket so that only her hair showed, lay Macy. In the grey light of early morning, her hair glowed with life. Surely something that vibrant was alive?
Naomi lifted her hand, knowing, before she laid it on Macy’s body, what she would feel. Stillness. Stiffness. A deep breath shuddered into her lungs, her first breath on the first morning without her daughter in it, and she howled.