Family Interrupted (24 page)

“So, where’s Ian?” he blurted.

“Ian’s not here. I didn’t say he was.”

“Then what’s going on? What are you up to now? And it had better be good.”

You have no idea.
“Actually, Jack,
I’m
not up to anything. It’s Ian who seems to have been busy, but you’ll have to judge for yourself. Come into the family room. There’s someone you need to meet.”

I’d placed the car seat on the floor, removed the light blanket, and had simply stared at the little peanut while she slept and I waited for Jack. I couldn’t detect any family resemblance, and I couldn’t believe Ian had a child. A child! But she certainly was beautiful. I put the thought on hold.
All babies were beautiful
. An envelope had lain right inside the tote, and I’d taken it out. The birth certificate. I probably should have examined the rest of the bag’s contents, but I was afraid to get distracted. What if the peanut moved? Cried? Opened her eyes? I didn’t know her habits, so my job was to be alert.

Jack was scanning the family room at the six-foot level. “I don’t see anyone. Where? Who? What?”

The baby cooed.

Jack jumped.

I pointed. “Over there. Lower your gaze.”

He did. His lids opened wide, the only part of him that moved, until he slowly turned his head to stare at me. “Whose baby is that?” he asked in a harsh whisper. “What the hell is going on around here? And I want a straight answer! I’m gone for one blasted day and the sky falls down?”

“I’m just as much in the dark as you are,” I said, “except for this.” I offered the birth certificate, and he grabbed it like a lifeline.

“Martina Faith Barnes? Barnes?” He looked at me, eyes narrowed, complexion starting to pale. Again, he focused on the paper in his hand. “Mother: Colleen Murphy of Houston, TX. Who the hell is she? Father: Ian Barnes of Houston, TX. Ian Barnes? Our Ian?”

Could a man’s deep voice actually squeak? “That’s what the girl, Colleen, said when she dropped the baby off. Our Ian. She had our address.”

“Date of birth: August 15, 20...why, Claire, that’s only two months ago!”

“Ergo—this giant.” I was tempted to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. My husband wasn’t usually put off-balance about anything. Then again, a possible grandchild was not just an anything.

Jack started pacing. “Our Ian?” he asked again. “Our straight-A Ian? Well, I don’t believe it. Maybe it’s a blackmail scheme. Maybe this Colleen knows we have a business, a good business, and is using the baby to get to us. Or maybe it’s a phony birth certificate. I’m not ruling anything out. Ian’s never said one word about a girlfriend or...or...” Now his complexion went from pale to alabaster.

“Jack, what is it? What are you thinking?”

“You don’t want to know. I don’t want to say it. But is there a chance, any chance at all, that Ian’s gotten married?”

That idea hadn’t crossed my mind. I took a moment to respond, reviewing the brief conversation I’d had with Colleen and the impression she’d made on me. She was a woman on a mission that had nothing to do with a baby or a husband.

“Possible,” I finally said, “but not probable. A real long shot.”

Jack’s sigh of relief was interrupted by the sudden cries of a wide-awake baby. Cries that turned into piercing shrieks of hunger even empty nesters could recognize.

“Good grief.” I ran to the car seat and tried to unlock the straps. “How the heck does this work? Push, pull. Ow!”

“Let me try. Go make a bottle or something.”

Or something. I dug into the tote bag and came up with a can of powder, plastic liners, and nursers. “I’m going to the kitchen for some filtered water.”

“Okay, the straps are unlocked. I’ll just pick her...Geez, Claire, she’s soaked,” said Jack. “Everything. You change her, and I’ll make the bottle.”

“Whatever.” I spread her blanket on the carpet and held out my arms. “Remember to support her head and neck,” Jack said, safely transferring the tiny cargo.

“Thank you, Dr. Spock. Like I haven’t done this before?”

“Not recently.” He took the bottle fixings and headed out of the room.

I turned my full attention to the unhappy baby, who quieted briefly before taking a deep breath and letting loose with another shriek. Murmuring as I worked, I tried to calm her down with my voice and my touch, but every item of clothing had to be removed. And the baby girl wasn’t happy.

“Some lotion to clean you, a bit of salve, a nice dry diaper, and you’re going to be just fine,” I said softly, before maneuvering the diaper in place. Peanut had skinny legs and arms and a little pot belly. A milk belly. I found a clean outfit and began to dress her, fastening the snaps all the way up from her feet to her neck. Pretty in pink.

“Okay, sweetheart. Let’s see where that bottle is.” I carefully stood up, the baby in my arms, and began to walk. That’s when she finally quieted down. That’s when she opened her blue eyes, looked right into mine, and smiled a crooked smile. With a dimple on the side. And that’s when I knew she was ours.

I stared at Ian’s daughter. My granddaughter. And fell in love. My heart, my spirit, my body overflowed with a cataclysm of joy. I had trouble catching my breath. I never thought I’d feel these emotions again in my life. The wonder of it...

Waltzing into the kitchen, I savored my discovery yet couldn’t wait to share it.

“She’s our granddaughter, Jack. No doubt about it.” I told him what I’d seen.

“It could have been gas,” he argued, handing me the milk.

“So what? Her lopsided smile is all Ian, and a matching dimple is unique. I’ve sketched that combination a million times. I know what I see.” I touched the nipple to the baby’s mouth, and she latched on as greedily as her father digging into a Chinese dinner. Or any dinner, for that matter.

“Or maybe you see only what you want to see.” Jack’s forehead creased as he took out his cell phone. “Babies can be irresistible, especially after...well, you know. After what we’ve gone through. So now I can’t trust your judgment.”

His words hurt. I tried to borrow the cop’s face, the one who gave me the ticket, and changed the subject.

“Are you calling Ian?”

“Don’t you think it’s time?”

“Yes, but...” I bit my lip and gazed into the distance. “The baby’s adorable, but where’s he going with his life? I wish he’d gone to UT with Danny Goldstein and their friends.”

Jack stared at me, his mouth agape, his eyes popping. “Then where the hell were you when it mattered? When he was making these unilateral decisions? When I needed you to back me up?”

Had he forgotten what that year was like? “You know the answer. I was lost the year Kayla died. In an unknown world.” Day and night had rolled into one another, a continuous misting of time. “And I’m still trying to deal with it and...and all the repercussions. Maybe I didn’t say the right things. Maybe Ian needed more from me than I was able to give. Maybe I wasn’t a fit person, never mind a fit mother. I don’t know. And you know what I think?”

“I know you’re going to tell me,” Jack replied.

I shifted the baby to my shoulder for a burp. She performed magnificently, but the quick smiles it brought from her grandparents couldn’t negate the topic under discussion: Tina’s father. “I think Ian’s situation is as much our fault as it is his.”

“Our fault? As in yours and mine? Oh, boy. Let’s postpone this conversation, Claire. We’ve got more immediate issues to focus on now.”

“All right,” I said, watching him punch in Ian’s number. But I knew that sometime in the near future, a blame game would commence. And I had a bad feeling I’d lose.

#

IAN

I checked my cell for messages immediately after work, wondering why Colleen hadn’t returned my calls. She knew what was on the line now that she’d missed her first day back at the plant because of the daycare situation. She’d been put on notice until Friday, and then she could be fired for abandoning her job. Ben Parker was so disappointed at Colleen’s no-show today, I couldn’t look him in the eye. Hopefully, Colleen would have connected with a daycare by now.

But there was no message from Colleen, just one from my dad. I listened to him say he had an important package at the house for me, special delivery, but I shrugged it off. Colleen and the baby came first. I got behind the wheel and headed home.

Looking from the outside, the apartment seemed dark. No light shone through the living room window, and I wondered if Colleen and Tina had both fallen asleep. It had happened before, and I grinned at the memory. The girls had looked so cute, napping together.

Whistling as I opened the door, I felt the emptiness before I confirmed it. No light. No life. I went from room to room in thirty seconds, finally spotting a note taped to the fridge:

Dear Ian – I’m so sorry but I couldn’t go back to the job. I’d be a flower begging for water in that garden. I sold my old heap and headed to Nashville today. I didn’t touch your money, only my own little bit. Tina is all yours. I’ll sign any legal paper you want me to. I’d just like to visit from time to time.

God Bless. You are a good person, better’n most and better’n me.

Colleen

P.S. I left Tina and her birth certificate with your mom.

I ripped the note from the fridge, ready to pull the whole damn door off. She’d really gone and done it. I grabbed my cell and called her.

An electronic voice told me the number was not in service; the message was louder than any verbal one from Colleen. Coward! She was a stinking coward, sneaking away without a word. What kind of mother does that? Mine would never have...

Damn. Now I had to deal with my parents. Dad answered after the first ring.

“I’ll be there ASAP,” I said and hung up. Couldn’t handle any long conversations now. Walking through the apartment, I began to notice the empty spaces. No formula and bottles on the counter, no blankets in the living room, no diapers in the handy basket we’d set up. I opened the bedroom closet, and Colleen’s empty side hit me like falling timber. Not even a belt remained.

I dropped onto the edge of the bed and stared at the floor. She’d disappeared as though she’d never been here, following her damn dream that could have waited. Messing up our family.

C’mon, Ian. You knew it was pretend. You knew all along it was make-believe.

God damn it! The baby wasn’t make-believe. Neither was my job. I had real responsibilities, and I was screwing up again. Just like with Kayla.

I started crying, crying like a girl. I couldn’t help it and didn’t care. I was just glad to be alone.

CLAIRE

That evening

The baby was stirring, waking up after a catnap. Jack stepped into the hall bathroom, once more washing his hands before picking her up, a total of three wash-ups for three pick-ups since he’d arrived. I stifled a grin.

“You’re sure taking grandpa-hood seriously.”

“That’s the point. I’m trying to see a resemblance. I barely remember the kids at this age.” He held Tina cradled in his arms and began making baby noises at her. I hadn’t realized what a silly picture we, adults, made with our funny faces and vocalizations, and how strong our instinct was to communicate with our offspring.

“Claire!”

I rushed over.

“The dimple. I just saw the dimple, the cockeyed smile, just like our son’s. You were right. She really is Ian’s daughter.”

Was that all? I almost collapsed in relief. There was no blood, no fever, no serious problem, but my nerves were frayed. “Nice of you to believe me after twenty-five years. Should I celebrate?”

“Hey, calm down. What’s wrong with wanting to be sure?”

Hadn’t I seen Ian reflected in the baby? Hadn’t I shared that news with Jack? Hadn’t I brought him to his knees over Kayla’s portrait? “Hells bells, Jack. If it makes you happy not to trust my eye for detail, then confirm for yourself.”

“I certainly will. In fact, I have to. Your vision’s blurred. I don’t know what’s going on inside your head, and I can’t cope with it now.”

I gulped but thrust my chin out. “I think you made that perfectly clear the other night, and it’s time to change the topic. We need to handle this situation with our son.” I’d think about Jack later, when I was alone. Now my thoughts raced to the future. Ian. Tina. Jack and I. “Hmm...So what do you think the next step is with peanut and her dad?”

“Isn’t that up to Ian?”

“But he’s still a child, and we’re still his parents. We still have some influence.”

Jack emitted a long, low whistle and stared at me as though my nose had grown a foot. “And I’d say you’re living in a dream. He purposely left us. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision. Since then, he’s had a serious relationship—and obviously a serious breakup—and is now a daddy. Most importantly, he chose to keep us in the dark. So, where in that story is the part about him still being a child? Where?”

“I’ll tell you where. Rerun the ending. That very last line about keeping us in the dark. That’s not the decision of an adult. He wasn’t grown up enough to share his life.”

“Because he didn’t want to, Claire, because he couldn’t connect with you.”

So the blame game had begun. If I’d had the strength, I would have thrown the piano at him. “Ian has two parents, Jack, and I accept my half of the responsibility. I don’t accept a hundred percent.”

The baby started to cry, and I speared Jack with a look. “She can pick up on the tension, so be quiet.”

“Hey, everybody! Where are y’all?”

Never had Ian’s voice filled me with such gladness. I ran toward the kitchen. “Right in here, sweetie. Dad’s holding your gorgeous daughter.”

My son didn’t look well. Pale, fidgety, and with red-rimmed eyes. “I suppose you had a shock today,” I said softly. “Your girlfriend...?”

He nodded and made a beeline for the baby. “I’ll take her, Dad.” He scooped Tina up, nuzzled, and murmured comfort words—

“Daddy’s here. How’s my girl?”—similar to what Jack and I had done. Peanut curled into Ian, a little arm thrusting up. She recognized her daddy’s touch, voice, face, and was happy.