Chapter Ten
brENNAN WAS FUSSY in the middle of the night, and when nursing and rocking hadn’t calmed him down, Baz paced the floor with him, insisting Emerson try to sleep. But her mind wouldn’t turn off. Not only had she been missing her parents more since having Brennan, but she felt too guilty to sleep. Brennan wasn’t Baz’s responsibility, and no matter how many times he said he didn’t mind and she should rest, her mind continued spinning. The next thing she knew it was five thirty, and Brennan was ready to nurse again. After Baz left to go home and get ready for work, she’d hoped to get Brennan down for a nap and catch up on her sleep, but Zeke and Zander had shown up to finish the fence and install the gates. She didn’t want to sleep while they were there in case they needed to come inside to use the bathroom, so she’d done some editing.
Baz texted to check on her, and she reassured him that she and Brennan were fine.
They were fine. Well, Brennan was, and she would be, once she got some sleep.
By the time Zeke and Zander finished the fence, Emerson was running on fumes. She could barely keep her eyes open as she nursed Brennan, and when she put him down for a nap, she crawled into bed and was out like a light.
“EMERSON, HONEY, WAKE up.”
I open my eyes and see Gwen’s parents looking down at me and remember I’d slept over, and my parents and I were leaving early for our vacation. I sit up. “Did I oversleep?” Gwen and I had stayed up late talking about all the things we wanted to do over spring break.
“No,” Gwen’s mother said. “Let’s go into the living room.”
I reach over to wake up Gwen, tangled in the blankets beside me, but her father touches my hand and shakes his head. My stomach knots up as I push to my feet. They had a firm lights-out, minds-off rule, and they didn’t appreciate rowdy teens. We’d stayed up late and had giggled an awful lot. I hope they didn’t hear us. I didn’t want to get Gwen into trouble or be told I couldn’t sleep over anymore. I get more nervous as I follow them down the hall.
Gwen’s father puts a hand on my shoulder as we walk into the living room. There are two police officers standing there, one male, one female. I couldn’t be arrested for making too much noise, but I can’t wrap my head around why they’re here. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been an incident. Let’s sit down,” Gwen’s father says, leading me to the couch.
Something in his voice makes my heart race, and I take a better look at the cops. Their faces are grim, and so are Gwen’s parents’. “I don’t want to sit down. What kind of incident?”
“Someone broke into your house while your parents were sleeping. They think your father tried to fight them off, but the man had a gun. I’m sorry, Emerson, but your parents were killed…”
I can’t breathe. “No…No! You’re lying!” I ran for the door and bolted outside, springing down the steps and toward my house. Thunder pounded in my ears as I tore around the corner, screaming, “Mom! Dad!” There was yellow tape all around the steps to our brownstone and a blur of people on the sidewalk. I ran for the steps, but a policeman blocked my way. I punched and fought, needing to prove Gwen’s father wrong. “Let me in! That’s my family! Mom! Dad! Please!”
Someone grabbed me from behind. “Miss! You can’t go in there. They’re gone.”
I thrashed, trying to break free. A baby’s cries rang out in our brownstone, sending agony tearing through me. “Brennan! My baby! I have to get my baby!”
“He’s gone.”
“No!”
Emerson’s eyes flew open, and she sat up, heart racing, tears streaming down her cheeks as Brennan’s cry rang out. It was only a nightmare. He’sokayhe’sokayhe’sokay. She tried to catch her breath, panting out, “It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here.” She scooped him up, trembling. “Mama’s got you. I’ve got you.” She kissed his cheek, holding him tight. “I’ve got you.” What the hell kind of nightmare was that?
A knock sounded at the front door, and her hopeful heart went straight to Baz. She grabbed a burp rag, chiding herself for hoping it was him, and wiped her eyes on her way to answer the door. She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing heart. She blew out a breath. “I’m okay. We’re okay.”
She peeked out the sidelight and saw Ginger and a mahogany-haired girl who looked to be around Emerson’s age. It took her a minute to make sense of them being there before she remembered Ginger had said they’d drop off food. The girl waved, and Ginger looked over, smiling and holding up a cooler. Emerson managed a smile and moved away from the window, taking another second to regain control. She breathed deeply, her father’s voice accompanying her efforts. Buck up, Em. You’ve got this. She didn’t allow herself to think about what he’d always said next, because it was too big of a punch to her heart.
She opened the door, trying her best not to look rattled. “Hi.”
“Hi, honey. I hope it’s okay that we stopped by. This is my niece, Madigan. We brought food for the week.”
“Hi,” Madigan said exuberantly. “You can call me Mads.”
“It’s nice to meet you, and this is so generous of you. Come in.” She stepped back, hoping they didn’t pick up on the tremble in her voice.
As they stepped inside, Madigan said, “Don’t worry. I won’t get too close to Brennan. I know he shouldn’t be around too many people, but I had to get a peek at him. He’s beautiful. I love his little mohawk.”
“Thanks. I tried to get his hair to lie down, but it wants to be spiky.” Emerson closed the door.
“We like spiky.” Ginger set down the cooler, brows knitting. “Honey, are you okay? Your hands are shaking, and you look a little pale.”
So much for hoping. Emerson mustered a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I bet you are. Being a new mom is hard,” Ginger said. “Why don’t you sit down and let me hold Brennan for a minute? Mads, can you put the food in the freezer and get Emerson a glass of the juice we brought?”
“It’s okay. I can do that,” Emerson said.
“I don’t mind,” Madigan said as she headed for the kitchen with the cooler. “I love your cottage. It’s really cute.”
“Thanks. I should make room in the freezer.” Emerson followed her into the kitchen and opened the freezer.
“I’ve got this,” Madigan insisted, and shooed her out of the kitchen.
“You’re as pushy as Baz,” Emerson said.
“Probably worse. Go sit down and chill.” Madigan started putting the food away, speaking louder to Emerson and Ginger as they headed into the living room. “Do you like where we put Baz’s desk and bookshelves?”
We? “Yes. Were you here? Did you help them fix up my place?”
“I sure did,” Madigan said. “I wasn’t about to let a bunch of guys decide where to put a woman’s things. They mean well, but you know. They’re not us. Thanks for the cookies you sent home with Tobias. They were delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked them.” As she and Ginger settled on the couch, she said, “I still can’t believe Baz had such a pretty desk and bookshelves lying around.”
“Lying around?” Madigan asked.
“Well, he wasn’t using them yet, so I guess you could say they were lying around,” Ginger said.
“What do you mean?”
“They were his grandfather Mike’s,” Ginger explained. “Before moving into the assisted living facility, Mike had moved from the home where he’d lived with Baz’s grandmother into Baz’s uncle Preacher and aunt Reba’s house.”
“They’re my parents,” Madigan chimed in.
“At that time, Mike let each of the kids pick out something special of his for themselves. Baz chose his desk and bookshelves to use in his home office,” Ginger explained.
“My dad owns a renovations business, and Baz used his workshop to refinish the furniture,” Madigan explained. “He hadn’t gotten around to moving them out of the workshop yet, which is why he wasn’t using them.”
“ Oh. ” Emerson was floored that he’d lend her something so personal. “I’ll make sure he takes them back right away.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Ginger said.
“If you’d seen how happy he was to let you use them, you wouldn’t feel bad,” Madigan said as she put the empty cooler by the front door and carried a glass of juice into the living room.
“Still. They belong with family.”
“Honey, really, there’s no rush,” Ginger reassured her. “Why don’t I hold Brennan for a minute and give you a break.”
Emerson was still shaky, so she handed Brennan to Ginger. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. Hello, Brennan,” Ginger said softly. “Aren’t you a handsome little guy.”
“Here you go, Em.” Madigan handed her the glass of juice and sat down.
“Thank you.” She took a sip. “Your family has been so good to me. I really appreciate everyone’s help, and the food, and this.” She motioned to Ginger loving up her baby.
“We’re happy to help,” Madigan said. “And as you can see, my aunt Ginger hates babies, but she’s willing to take a hit for the team.”
Emerson smiled.
“Yes, I am,” Ginger said in a high-pitched voice, speaking to Brennan. “Someone has to soak up your cuteness.” She turned a thoughtful gaze to Emerson. “Would you like me to make you something to eat? I can warm up one of the dishes we brought or make you something else.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine.”
“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” Ginger returned her attention to Brennan, cooing, “You have your mama’s eyes and your mama’s nose.”
“He’s so tiny and cute and perfect,” Madigan said.
“Yeah. I think I’ll keep him,” Emerson joked.
Madigan picked up the paperback Emerson had been reading from the end table. “Hey, you read romance?”
“Yeah. I’m a developmental editor. I edited that book.”
“Really? That must be a fun job,” Madigan said.
“It doesn’t suck,” Emerson said.
“Uh-oh.” Ginger pushed to her feet. “Someone needs a clean diaper.”
“I’ll change him,” Emerson said, pushing to her feet.
“I’ve got it,” Ginger said. “Relax. You and Mads can get to know each other.”
“You have to hold a diaper over him or he’ll pee on you,” she warned.
“I raised three boys. I know all about their little sprinklers.” Ginger laid Brennan on the changing table and tickled his belly. “Boys have got nothing on Granny Gingy.”
Emerson watched her loving on him, and as she realized Brennan would never know the love of a grandparent, the dull ache of missing her parents intensified.
“Maverick’s wife, Chloe, runs an online book club, and all we read is romance,” Madigan said, drawing Emerson from her thoughts. “There are members all over the country, but once a month those of us who can, meet in person. Usually on a beach, unless it’s too cold or rainy. Sometimes members from other areas join us over video chat. Maybe you can join us sometime. You’d love the girls. We have a lot of fun. Every meeting has a theme based on the book we read that month, and we all dress up to match the theme.”
“That sounds fun, but it’ll be a while before I can even think about finding a sitter since I’m nursing.”
“You can pump,” Madigan said. “That’s what Chloe and Leah did when Marybelle and Leo were infants.”
“And I’ll babysit this cutie anytime,” Ginger offered as she finished changing Brennan and joined them.
“That’s really nice of you, but I can’t imagine leaving him for anything.”
“I remember that feeling,” Ginger said. “But trust me, a few weeks from now, you’ll be craving an hour without a baby in your arms, and it won’t mean you love him any less. It’s good to get out, to think your own thoughts and remind yourself that you’re a vibrant young woman. An hour with friends can be rejuvenating, and missing your sweet boy will make you even more patient and excited to be with him.”
“That’s what Leah and Chloe say,” Madigan added. “They were nervous about leaving their babies, too. But they said they were glad for the break from diapers and baby talk, which are wonderful in their own rights, but it’s nice to have adult stimulation, too.”
“I get a lot of stimulation from my work.”
“Of course you do, but that’s work . Everyone needs a girls’ night now and again,” Ginger said.
Emerson was beginning to see where Baz got his pushiness from. She knew they meant well, and they were so encouraging, she felt bad for turning them down and wanted to do something nice for them. “I can probably get a few advanced copies from some of the authors I work with.”
Madigan’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“A couple of them have offered, and I know some of them do video chats with book clubs.”
“That would be amazing,” Madigan said. “Why don’t you give me your number, and I’ll send you information about our meetings.”
Emerson hesitated, but Madigan already had her phone out, and she was looking at her expectantly. She rattled off her number, and Madigan put it in her phone. “What do you do for work, Mads?”
“I’m a puppeteer at children’s parties, and I do therapeutic puppetry at LOCAL, the assisted living facility here on the Cape where our grandfather lives. I’m also a musical storyteller.”
“Puppeteering sounds fun. What is a musical storyteller?”
“I play guitar and tell stories in songs, at bars, mostly, but also at kids’ parties, and I make greeting cards.”
“Wow, really? You do a lot.”
“Life is too short not to follow your passions,” Ginger said.
“That’s why I bake,” Emerson said. “I’ve never met anyone who makes greeting cards. Would I know them?”
“Maybe. They’re called Mad Truth About Love.”
“Oh my gosh! You have a booty-call line of cards, right? My friend Gwen and I think they’re brilliant!”
Madigan laughed. “Yes, actually, the line was inspired by me and Tobias. We were supposed to just be a hookup.”
Ginger cleared her throat, eyeing Madigan.
“ What? You knew that,” Madigan said.
“Yes, but you don’t have to tell everyone you meet.” Ginger lowered her voice, smiling down at Brennan. “Your mama is quickly learning about how the Wickeds overshare.”
“That’s what friends do, Aunt Ginger. Besides, Tobias and I might have started as a fling, but now we’re madly in love.”
“I noticed your gorgeous engagement ring,” Emerson said.
“Thank you!” Madigan held out her left hand, showing off the solitaire diamond. “We got engaged last Christmas. I can’t wait to have babies with Tobias. Actually, I can. We’re not in a rush. We want to travel, but you know how when you meet the right person, you want everything with them? Forever, babies, growing old?” Her eyes widened. “Oh gosh. Not that you need a partner to raise your baby. I didn’t mean that. Raising a baby alone is fine.”
“It’s okay,” Emerson said. “I’ve never felt the way you described feeling about Tobias toward anyone, and I’m okay raising Brennan by myself. There’s no need to feel funny about what you said. I’m glad you have Tobias and you’re happy with him.”
Madigan exhaled with relief. “Thanks. I’m really good at putting my foot in my mouth.”
“You didn’t.” Emerson yawned. “Sorry.”
“Is this little guy keeping you up at night, like Baz used to keep me up?” Ginger asked.
“Last night was rough, but Baz had brought dinner over, and he was still here when Brennan woke up. He was a big help.”
“He’s so good with babies,” Ginger said.
“And he seems to like hanging out with you two,” Madigan said.
Emerson swallowed hard. She knew she needed to put a stop to that. As much as she liked getting to know Baz and Madigan and Ginger, she couldn’t afford to get used to them being around. Eventually Baz would get sick of hanging out with her and Brennan, or feel like he’d fulfilled whatever sense of duty was driving him to be there so often, and then his family would move on, too. That would be a harsh reminder of what she and Brennan didn’t have, driving that dull ache deeper.
“Emerson, you look a little peaked. Are you sure we can’t make you something to eat or watch Brennan while you take a nap?” Ginger asked.
“No, thank you. I’m fine, really.”
She must have sounded exasperated, because Madigan said, “Aunt Ginger, she already said no. We should get out of Emerson’s hair before you start sounding as pushy as the guys.” She rose to her feet, urging Ginger along, and glanced at Emerson. “Aunt Ginger mothers all of us.”
“Guilty as charged,” Ginger said, getting up and handing Brennan to Emerson. “I can’t help it. I lost my daughter, Ashley, several years ago, and I still have a lot of girl love to give. It’s different from the love we give our sons. Boys don’t need the same mothering in the same ways girls do, and I see all the girls who come into our circle as gifts from the world that stole my daughter away. I’m sure it can feel smothering. I’m sorry.”
Emerson’s throat thickened. “It’s okay. I lost my parents a long time ago.” Willing her tears to remain at bay, she said, “It was kind of nice to be mothered again for a little while.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Ginger said.
Ginger put her arms around her and Brennan, embracing them for so long, Emerson felt another fissure forming in the walls around her heart and feared her emotions would come tumbling out. She stepped out of her arms, gathering resilience like a shield, and said, “It’s okay.”
“It’s never okay to lose someone you love,” Madigan said sorrowfully. “Ashley was my best friend, and I miss her every day. Do you have anyone else to lean on?”
“Yes, my best friend, Gwen. We grew up together.”
“Oh? Where does she live?” Ginger asked.
“In Chicago. She’s due to have a baby soon, but we keep in touch by phone.”
“I’m sure it’s hard for both of you to be so far away during such a big time in your lives,” Ginger said.
“It is, but we’re fine.” We’re always fine. “We’ll get through it.”
“Well, now you have us, too,” Madigan said. “And I promise to try to keep Aunt Ginger from smothering you.”
“I will be mindful of that,” Ginger promised. “But, Emerson, if you need a little smothering, or a babysitter, or someone to talk to about motherhood and all the questions that pop up, I’m only a phone call away.”
Madigan pulled out her phone. “I’ll text you Aunt Ginger’s number, in case you need it.”
Ginger touched Emerson’s arm and said, “You’re doing great, Emerson. Brennan is a lucky boy to have you as his mother.”
Don’tcrydon’tcrydon’tcry.
“When you’re up to it, we’d love it if you’d come to dinner at our place with Baz. Conroy will go bananas over Brennan.”
That sounded so wonderful. It was all Emerson could do to nod.
“Take care, sweetheart,” Ginger said.
“Let’s keep in touch,” Madigan said, and they headed out.
As Emerson closed the door behind them, tears spilled down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut against them, telling herself to buck the heck up. She wiped her eyes, drew her shoulders back, and carried her sweet boy into the bedroom to get her phone so she could text Baz and do what had to be done.