Bloodchild (5 page)

She shook her head and blinked rapidly. It was as though the baby were developing and maturing right before her eyes. She put her fingers on the crib railing and took a deep breath. Suddenly the baby's eyes opened. Her heart skipped a beat. If it started to cry, Dana would surely bawl her out for coming in here and waking it.

But Nikos didn't cry. He stared up at her silently. She decided to risk touching him and slowly lowered her fingers to the baby's chest. When she made contact, he smiled.

"Hi, Nikos," she whispered. "I never really got a chance to welcome you. Welcome."

The baby seemed to understand. His smile widened. She brought her right forefinger to his cheek, and he smacked his lips together. She laughed to herself and touched the tiny lips. Instantly the baby drew her finger into its mouth. She imagined he thought he was going to breast-feed.

"Uh-oh," she said, pulling her hand back. "Now don't start to cry on me."

The baby grimaced and grunted. She backed away.

"Go back to sleep," she whispered. She heard him whimper. "Shit," she said, and turned quickly to rush out of the room. "I've really done it now."

She paused for a moment outside the baby's room and listened. He didn't start to cry. All was silent. She let out a deep breath and started toward the stairway. Before she reached it, she felt the pinprick of pain on her finger and looked at her hand.

There, at the tip of her right forefinger, the finger that Nikos had so greedily seized into his mouth, was the tiniest bubble of blood, the kind of puncture made when someone was being tested for blood type.

"What the…" She brought her finger to her mouth and sucked on it for a moment. Then she looked back at Nikos's room. The baby had no teeth yet. How could it do this? Her body tightened as if it instinctively knew it were under some threat.

She slowly continued toward the staircase. Then she hurried down the steps, eager to leave the house and get on with the excitement that the day promised.

Harlan carried Jillian's bags into the house and paused in the entranceway to listen for Dana. All was deadly quiet. He turned back as Jillian came up behind him, that angelic smile on her face. Dana's mother had soft, small features and almost always wore a kind or gentle expression. Harlan had heard it said that a husband should take a good look at his mother-in-law to see what his wife would be like in twenty years or so. In this case he hoped it was true.

Dana had inherited Jillian's small, graceful nose, her prominent, high cheekbones and delicate lips. They had the same hazel eyes, only Dana's were more often green. Jillian's hair was a darker brown, a color she kept free of gray. She was a small-framed woman who stood just five feet seven but who kept her figure so well that it was difficult for anyone to believe she was indeed sixty-four years old.

Her skin was remarkable. The lines around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth hadn't gotten any deeper or any longer since her late thirties. Her cheeks habitually had a young woman's flush in them, and her neck was as smooth and as graceful as it had been when she was merely twenty. It was as if age itself was in remission when it came to Jillian Stanley.

Her dark green leather suit and white silk blouse looked no worse for travel. That was one of the things Harlan admired about his mother-in-law: She always looked so elegant, so together, no matter what time of the day it was, or what the circumstances were.

Dana had inherited that same meticulousness when it came to her clothing and her appearance. She never left the house, even to go pick up a bottle of milk at the convenience store, unless her hair was neatly brushed and her colors matched.

"You get to appreciate a ranch-style house when you have an infant," Jillian said, looking up the stairs. "We were already in the town house when Dana was born, and carting her up and down or going down for formula made me wish we all slept in the kitchen."

"It's no inconvenience now. You know Dana's breast feeding."

"Oh, that's right. Funny," Jillian said, "how the more things change, the more they stay the same. I didn't breast-feed, but my mother did. Now modern science and medicine renews its faith in the natural way."

"Don't get Dana on the topic; she's an expert. She even makes talks to prospective mothers. The baby-formula companies have taken a contract out on her. If she had her way, they'd be out of business."

Jillian laughed.

"Let's get your bags up to the guest room," he said, and started up the stairs.

"Colleen's not home yet?"

"She won't be home until after dinner. Big football game today, and her boyfriend's the starting quarterback."

"Oh. Wish I had gotten here earlier. I'd have gone to the game with her."

"I bet you would have," Harlan said. He put Jillian's bags in the guest room and the two of them headed for the master bedroom. They paused in the doorway, however. Dana was fast asleep. She was on her back, her head turned to the side, her arms resting comfortably on her thighs.

"Maybe she just finished feeding him," he whispered.

"She does look tired, Harlan," Jillian said. "Drained from the whole experience. Poor thing. To lose a child and then gain one and have to care for it like this…"

"Well, he's up a lot at night. Maybe he's a bat," Harlan added, and shrugged.

"Let's look in on him," Jillian said. They went to the baby's room. Nikos was in just as deep a sleep and was also on his back with his head to the side and his arms crossed so that his hands rested on his thighs. "How unusual," Jillian remarked. "Sleeping on his back, but he's adorable," Jillian said. "I can't believe that carrot top."

"Some coincidence, huh?"

Jillian widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows, something Dana often did when she was impressed by something or someone. She studied the baby's face for a moment and then nodded, as though confirming a suspicion.

"Wide forehead. He's going to be brilliant," she said. "He's rather big for a baby less than a month old, isn't he?"

Harlan shrugged.

"You're asking me? I couldn't tell a week-old baby from a month-old baby to save my life. Never really looked at babies," he said, and then indicated the door. She nodded and they walked softly out and back downstairs.

"How about some coffee?" he asked, still not raising his voice much above a whisper.

"Fine. Dana must be exhausted, not even sensing our presence. She was never that deep a sleeper. I remember you couldn't tiptoe past her bedroom without waking her, not that she slept that much. She was so active and full of energy, it practically took a sledgehammer to slow her down and get her into bed."

"She's no different now. If I have a noisy dream, she wakes up."

"I'm surprised she didn't hear us come in and go up the stairs. We weren't exactly quiet."

"Breast feeding is exhausting, I suppose. But don't even suggest she give it up," he added quickly, a note of panic in his voice.

"If that's what she wants to do, fine. I don't mind as long as it's not me."

Harlan laughed, but he sensed her eyes on him as he prepared the coffee. All the way from the airport they had avoided discussing the death of his and Dana's baby and the subsequent adoption. They had circumvented the topic by talking about Nikos as though he were indeed his and Dana's actual child. He had described the baby's hair and had talked about Dana's devotion.

"I'm sure she'll spoil the child," Jillian told him. "It's not uncommon for women to do so when they have children relatively late in life. But Brad and I never spoiled her. Even though she was an only child, she had to work and earn money and be appreciative. Brad was too much old-country for it to be any other way, even though he thought the sun rose and set on Dana's moods."

"Dana's no goof-off. She works far harder than I do. You know she's worked out ways to do part-time work for Grant Kaplan's firm, even while she's on this maternity leave, and she's always borne more than her share of work in the house. I've got to pick up the slack now," Harlan said. "I'm going to start bringing some of my work home. After all, I've got a second career now—fatherhood."

"Well, I'm glad to be of some help to you two. Makes me feel significant," Jillian said. "And not like most of those wealthy, self-centered friends I have in Florida. I swear, some of them actually despise their children and grandchildren. They hate for them to visit, but then again, they hate anything that breaks their comfortable pattern of existence."

They talked about Florida; they talked about Colleen and her future; and Harlan talked a little about his students. The only negative note was sounded when Jillian remarked on her recent phone conversation with Dana, commenting about her aloofness, about a certain coolness in her voice. Harlan nodded, but didn't say anything about it.

Now Jillian was more determined to know. He brought the coffee out to the dining room, and as soon as they sat down, she began.

"I want you to tell me what she's really been like, Harlan," Jillian insisted. "I want to know the details about all this too. Not because I want to be a nosy, interfering mother-in-law; I just want to understand it and see where I can really be of help to you two."

"Sure, Mom, I know." He went on to describe the things the doctor had told him about Dana's emotional condition. He explained how the adoption had occurred and how Dana had taken so quickly to the new baby. "She is a bit obsessive about him right now," he concluded, "but the doctor tells me it's only natural considering what happened to her own child. So," he told her, "don't be shocked if she seems possessive."

"She's not that excited about my being here to help, is that it?" Jillian asked. Harlan knew his mother-in-law was a bright and perceptive woman. There was no point in trying to fool her about things she would eventually realize, anyway, but for some reason—one he did not understand—he was sorry Jillian was so perceptive.

"Well, I don't think she resents you; she wants to do it all herself because, as the doctor said, she's afraid of anything happening to Nikos. Hopefully the paranoia will pass."

Jillian nodded. She put down her coffee cup and sat back in the chair.

"Harlan, where in hell did either of you come up with the name Nikos?"

He looked at her and then laughed.

"It wasn't my idea. Your daughter dreamed it, and considering what she had gone through, I didn't put up any resistance."

"Nikos? Nikos Hamilton?" She laughed. "Oh, well, I suppose before long we'll be calling him Nicky."

"Don't count on it," Harlan said. His tone of voice worried her, and she retreated into her own thoughts before continuing with their conversation. After a while they spoke about other things, Harlan grateful for the opportunity to talk more about his classes and the changes at the college. He told her that the contract negotiations between the faculty and the trustees were on the verge of breaking down. She listened, but he was aware that he rarely had more than half of her attention. He understood why.

They were both surprised at how long it was before Dana woke up. The sun was just about below the horizon and they had had to put on lights. Twice Jillian had gone up to check on Dana, and twice she returned to say that Dana was still in so deep a sleep, she hated to wake her.

The baby woke practically at the same time as its mother. Dana came to the top of the stairway and called down to them.

"Is that you, Mother?"

"Well, well, Sleeping Beauty has arisen," Jillian said, and went to her. They had just embraced when Nikos wailed and Dana broke out of her embrace to go to him.

Jillian followed her to the baby's room and watched as Dana lifted him lovingly out of his crib. As soon as she held him firmly in her arms, his cheek against her breast, the baby stopped crying. Dana kissed his forehead, and Nikos looked at Jillian. She thought he wore a very self-satisfied expression, and it made her laugh.

"Spoiled already?"

"He's not spoiled, Mother," Dana said. "He just… just loves me already."

"Really?" Jillian tilted her head the way Dana often did when she was puzzled or even annoyed by something.

"Yes. I can feel it through my whole body when I hold him to me. He radiates it." She lifted the baby and kissed his cheek. Jillian thought it seemed Nikos had smiled. "Time for his feeding," Dana said, and carried him to her bedroom.

Jillian followed and watched as Dana placed herself comfortably in the bed and then slipped the nightgown off her shoulders to expose her breasts. She held the baby up in front of her bosom for a moment, as if giving him his choice. Jillian was surprised to see with what force and control the baby turned its head and brought its lips to her left nipple, ballooning her breast. Dana cupped him in her arms and looked down at him lovingly as he fed. When she looked up at Jillian, she wore an expression of great contentment, her face flushed with excitement. Her eyes were dazzling, the green in them becoming emerald.

Jillian moved toward the bed. The baby's energy and momentum in suckling took her breath away. It looked as though it could consume Dana in one feeding, yet Dana appeared undisturbed by the baby's vehemence. Obviously, if anything, she enjoyed it.

"My God, he's starving," Jillian commented. "Do all babies nurse that vigorously?"

"Of course," Dana replied. "If the mother's milk is good and the baby is healthy."

"He's certainly healthy," Jillian said. She couldn't help shaking her head. Dana smirked.

"Maybe you ought to wait outside, Mother, if this bothers you."

"What?" Jillian felt the heat come into her neck. "I didn't mean it bothers me. If anything, it's a wonder it doesn't bother you."

"Well, it doesn't. Please, Mother. I'd rather be alone when I nurse Nikos. Do you mind?"

For a moment Jillian didn't reply. She just stared. The baby sucked on, its neck muscles straining, its free left arm jerking spasmodically with the fingers of its hand fully extended as it drew the milk from Dana's breast.

"Of course not," Jillian said. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I'll go down and help Harlan with dinner," she added. Dana didn't reply. She turned her attention back to the baby, looking down at him adoringly and pressing him even closer to her body.