Chapter Fifty-Seven #2
Olivia was perfect and pink. Her eyes were squeezed shut, and she had round, rosy cheeks with the faintest peach fuzz, her mother’s button nose, and the beginnings of her dad’s hair in strawberry-blond wisps at her temples.
The baby turned toward her mother, nosing at her chest, and reached a tiny starfish hand out, then let it drape over her eye, as if to block the light.
And suddenly Iris was mentally redesigning the maternity room lighting to better suit brand-new eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
“Shell-shocked, my legs are numb, I’m wearing bloody mesh undies, and I’ve never been happier. I didn’t know I could love anyone so much. I feel like my heart doesn’t fit in my chest. Actually I feel like my heart is on my chest right now.” Hannah looked down lovingly at her infant daughter.
Mike came around the other side of the bed and kissed baby Olivia on the head, then kissed Hannah on the cheek, and Hannah watched him look at their daughter, both of their expressions soft.
Taking in the tableau, Iris understood why Hannah was giving Mike a second chance.
It wasn’t denial, or because she had given up her job, or even because she didn’t want to be a single mom.
There was true love and trust between them. Cracked, but not beyond repair.
The nurse came over to change the bag on Hannah’s IV and said, “Dr. Demchur is about to come in to check on Olivia, and I should check your sutures first.”
Iris stepped out of the way. “I’ll give you some privacy. Can I get you something from the cafeteria?”
Hannah widened her eyes. “Ooh, can you get me a regular Coke ?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. In a cup with ice, maybe ice chips?”
“Omigod, yes !”
“Does that make it that much better?” Mike asked.
“Yes,” Hannah and Iris answered in unison.
—
Iris was just returning to the maternity floor with Hannah’s icy Coke and a snack when she received a text message from an unfamiliar number. She opened it:
Hey, it’s Sofia. Turn on channel six right now!!!
Iris looked up at the TV mounted in the waiting area, which was on NY1 on mute.
Luckily no one else waiting seemed to be watching it, all were absorbed in their families or their iPhones.
Iris found the remote and changed the channel to Sofia’s daytime show Between Us, where her news co-host, Kaitlin Cannon, was saying something above the chyron Exclusive Breaking News. Iris turned up the volume.
“—our own Sofia Morales brings you this exclusive report. Sofia?”
The camera cut to Sofia, looking beautiful as always but unusually serious.
“Thanks, Kaitlin. Star real estate developer Jonathan Wolff has been taken into custody today on charges of felony murder, conspiracy to commit arson, and related charges in connection with last month’s fatal gas explosion in a Chelsea public housing project, which killed two people and seriously injured six others.
The gas leak was previously ruled an accident, but authorities now allege that Wolff masterminded the explosion in a scheme to push through a lucrative government contract to rebuild.
My sources indicate that Wolff’s own employees, longtime executive assistant Marilyn Hruska and her son, Patrick Davies, are cooperating with prosecutors.
A grand jury will be convened next week to rule on Mr. Wolff’s indictment.
If found guilty, he could face life in prison.
When asked for comment, the mayor, who has received campaign donations from Wolff Development and other real estate interests, had this to say. ”
The camera cut to the mayor with a microphone in his face. “I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation, but housing throughout New York has been at the mercy of greed and corruption for too long, and now we see the terrible cost. That’s why I’m calling all developers to sign an ethics pledge—”
Iris was distracted by a new incoming text from Sofia:
Confirmed everything you said when Hruska flipped on Wolff this morning, and she’s got the receipts! Son will plead guilty in hopes of a lesser sentence. Wolff’s going down! My producer says it’s my story, so I’m officially on news! Stay tuned. Thx again for the scoop!
Marilyn flipped on Wolff . Iris sat back in the plastic chair, stunned.
If Jonathan was a cult leader, Marilyn was a true believer, and a well-compensated one.
And yet she drew the line at her son. Nothing would make up for the loss of life caused by the explosion, and Marilyn and Patrick’s involvement was unforgivable.
But Iris was surprised that Marilyn had heard her that night at the Giglio, that she had taken in Iris’s words and actually let them change her mind.
Marilyn didn’t let guilt, shame, self-preservation, or personal loss keep her from taking responsibility and doing the right thing—Patrick too—even if vengeance had more than a little to do with it.
A mother’s first job is to protect her child, even if that means making them face the worst thing they have ever done. Because self-preservation bought with a lie is no life preserver at all; it’s cement around the ankles. Jacob learned that. And the lie nearly drowned Iris with him.
And as ugly as the truth was, she was glad to be cut free.
—
Iris reentered Hannah’s room with the soda and a bag of Herr’s Sour Cream ’n’ Onion potato chips. From Hannah’s reaction you would’ve thought it was a Michelin-starred meal.
“Do you want to hold her?” Hannah asked.
“Can I?”
Hannah smiled. “She has to meet Aunt Iris.”
Iris took a seat in the armchair beside the bed, and Mike gathered Olivia from his wife’s arms. He brought the bundle over, eyes glued to his daughter, holding her like she was the most precious treasure in the world, because she was.
He directed Iris as he gentled the baby into her waiting arms. “Okay, hold your arms just like mine—nope, like this—yeah. Don’t feel bad, I learned this an hour ago. Support the head, you got her—you got her? There. ”
Iris melted under the baby’s warm, soft heft.
Olivia weighed not an ounce over seven pounds, and yet her body carried the weight of a woman’s entire lifetime.
Baby Olivia was tiny, fragile, vulnerable, and by far the most powerful person in the room.
Every scrunch of her nose and attempt at an expression was cause for delight.
Her yawn was phenomenal. Iris felt overcome with affection and optimism, imagining this little person’s life at the very beginning, full of innocence and possibility.
And just as Hannah was family to Iris, so too was Olivia.
“Smell her head,” Hannah said.
Iris bent and sniffed Olivia’s soft crown. She couldn’t pick out a single note, but it was the most divine, delicious, heart-expanding, and soul-affirming perfume.