Nameless (37 page)

When she’d
finished, she felt like she might just melt into her chair from pure
satisfaction.

 “Do you want
some more water?” Seth asked, rising to his feet in one smooth motion.

“Sure. Thanks.”

When he left
the room, Erin slumped back against the chair again. Closed her eyes and tried
not to worry. Everything was going pretty well so far, and now Seth was back in
her life, which was hopefully a good thing. She wouldn’t dwell on possible
disasters or brood about having made a mistake…

She jerked
awake when she heard Seth saying, “Erin?”

Blinking, she
tried to orient herself. Realized, in a panicked rush, that she must have dozed
off in the few minutes Seth was out of the room. “God. Sorry. I just—”

“You can barely
stay awake.” He looked at her with the same cool efficiency that characterized
nearly all of his actions. “Haven’t you been getting enough sleep?”

Despite her
befuddled brain, she managed to gape at him. “Are you kidding me? I have to
feed her every few hours. I haven’t slept more than four hours at a time in
more than three months.”

“Of course. Maybe
you should take a night off and leave Mac—”

“Seth, just because
you’re going to be involved now doesn’t mean you can start taking over.”

He tightened
his lips, but eventually gave one curt nod. “All right. Understood. But I don’t
think you’re up to going home at the moment. I don’t want you to collapse in
the lobby. Why don’t you just spend the night here?”

Erin stiffened
and sucked in a breath. “Seth.”

“In the guest
room, of course. You’re dead on your feet. This way, we can work out the
dynamics of our parenting arrangement tomorrow morning when you feel better.
It’s no inconvenience to me, so why shouldn’t you just stay here tonight?”

Erin couldn’t
think of a single reason. Although something inside her was trying to explain
that it wasn’t normal, that it was inappropriate, the rest of her was so
exhausted that she couldn’t think of any arguments.

She had all of Mackenzie’s
stuff she would need, and everything else didn’t really matter.

So Erin nodded
a mute consent and managed to pick up the carrier. Seth slung the diaper bag
over his shoulder and led the way to the guest room.

It was a
well-appointed, comfortable bedroom, with a bed, dresser, and writing desk. There
wasn’t a good chair for nursing, but Erin was too tired to complain.

“I’ll be right
back,” Seth murmured.

In a minute, he
returned, carrying a good quality, portable bassinet, which he efficiently set
up next to the bed. “Will this be all right for her?” he asked, glancing at her
over his shoulder.

Erin stared for
a minute. “Yeah. It’s perfect. How did you—”

“I’d bought
it,” Seth muttered, fiddling with the bassinet, as if he were making sure it
was set up properly. “Before. Just in case.”

She felt a pang
so sharp it swallowed her breath. She didn’t question him further. Knew better
than to make a big deal about this.

Seth appeared
stiff and awkward—which was uncharacteristic of the Seth she used to know—and
he finally said, “The bathroom is just through that door. Do you need anything
else?”

Erin released a
long breath. Wondered why on earth she was staying here tonight. “I wouldn’t
say no to a toothbrush.”

He didn’t
respond. Simply turned around and walked out of the room. Erin stared at the
empty doorway blankly, trying to figure out if she’d said something wrong. Then
her eyes widened when he returned, carrying an unopened toothbrush and a soft
Oxford shirt.

“Here,” he
said, handing her the toothbrush and the shirt. “And I got this, in case you
don’t want to sleep in your clothes.”

Erin took both
of his offerings. Felt ridiculously embarrassed.

Everything was
changing so quickly. This morning Seth hadn’t been in her life at all, and now
she was sleeping at his apartment and wearing his shirt.

She shifted from
foot to foot. Didn’t want to do anything but go to sleep, after such a long,
stressful day.  “Thanks, Seth.”

“Of course. Let
me know if you need anything. And please make yourself at home. If you need to
move around tonight—go to the kitchen or wherever—you’re welcome to.”

“Thank you.” She
peered at him from under her eyelashes. Actually felt shy for some reason.

Seth didn’t
seem entirely confident himself, and—after a moment—he nodded, mumbled out a
goodnight, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Erin let out a
deep breath of relief, glad to be alone at last.

Then she picked
Mackenzie up out of the carrier, used the writing desk as a changing table to
change the baby's dirty diaper, then settled her in the bassinet. Mackenzie
fussed irritably as Erin was changing her, but she fell back to sleep
immediately afterwards.

After
double-checking on her daughter, Erin put the small trashcan outside her
bedroom door so she wouldn’t have to smell it all night. Then she went to the
bathroom and got ready for bed.

Finally she
turned out the light and crawled into bed.

Was asleep in
less than two minutes.

***

Erin woke up four hours later to
the sound of Mackenzie's frantic squalls. She could tell by the tone of the
crying that she must have been awake for a while and been getting more and more
upset.

Erin couldn’t
believe she’d slept through it. Usually, she was so attuned to her baby that
the smallest sound jarred her from sleep. She must have fallen into some kind
of numb stupor.

Moving quickly,
although she could barely pry her eyes open, Erin rolled off the bed and leaned
over to pick up Mackenzie. In the dim light, Erin could see that her daughter's
little face was red and contorted, as she squalled out angry, breathless cries.

“I’m sorry,
pumpkin.” Erin held Mackenzie against her and rubbed her back. “I didn’t hear
you before. You’re probably starving, aren't you?”

She got back in
bed and propped herself up, although it wasn’t as comfortable without the
arrangement of pillows she used in her own bed. Then she positioned her still
crying daughter at her breast. Offered her nipple.

Mackenzie tried
to latch on through her squalls. Took a couple of frantic sucks but then
gurgled and dribbled out a mouthful of milk. Started sobbing again.

Erin tried to both
feed and comfort her anguished daughter for a couple of minutes, but Mackenzie
couldn’t settle down enough to nurse.

The poor thing
was just so upset. If only Erin had woken up earlier. Or maybe the unusual
surroundings had confused Mackenzie. Whatever it was, her daughter refused to
be comforted.

Some mommy Erin
was.

The only way to
settle her down when she was in this mood was to walk her around, so Erin
carried her out of the bedroom and down the hall, away from Seth’s room so she
wouldn’t wake him up.

When Mackenzie
had finally calmed down enough to nurse, Erin was in a room with a good, comfortable
chair, so she sat down there to nurse.

After a few
false starts and final whimpers, Mackenzie began to suck eagerly.

Erin sighed in
relief. Then glanced around the room for the first time.

It looked like
either a library or a home office—or some combination of both. There were
bookshelves lining two of the walls, a large desk on the far side of the room,
and a gas fireplace next to Erin's chair.

Looking at the
table beside her, Erin noticed a book on top of a stack of papers. Readjusting
her arms so that she wouldn’t jar Mackenzie, Erin reached over, feeling an
irresistible need to know what Seth was reading at the moment.

It was just a
recently published book on legal issues regarding copyright in a digital world—nothing
Erin was remotely interested in.

As she was
replacing it, she saw a photo of Mackenzie lying on the stack of books and
papers beneath it.

It was the one
she’d sent Seth four weeks ago, and Erin made a surprised noise in her throat
as she saw it.

When she picked
it up, she saw another picture of Mackenzie below it. The one Erin had emailed Seth
nine weeks ago.

Nearly all of
the pictures were in the stack. Printed out on photo paper. The edges of the
older ones were slightly wrinkled, revealing how often Seth must have looked at
them.

Erin was deeply
touched by this evidence of how much he’d been thinking about his daughter,
even as he'd been trying to ignore her existence.

At the same
time, Erin wanted to scream at him—he’d cared about Mackenzie so much and yet had
thought he was capable of cutting her out of his life completely.

Seth was such a
mingling of opposites, such a tangle of varied instincts and feelings. She
could picture him in this chair, looking at pictures of his daughter, torturing
himself with how thoroughly he’d blown it.

She returned
the pile to the table and put the book on top of it again, feeling like she’d
exposed something deep and secret about him. Something he might not want known.

Mackenzie
released Erin’s breast, so she held her upright to let her burp. Felt strange
and uncomfortable and emotional and kind of bewildered.

Erin didn’t like
feeling any of those things.

The only
picture that hadn’t been in the pile was the last one Erin had sent Seth. Of
both her and Mackenzie.

Apparently he
hadn’t wanted that one with the others. Maybe it brought up bad memories of her
rejection. Maybe he'd gotten over his feelings for Erin and only wanted to
focus on his daughter now. Maybe he just hadn't liked the picture.

It was fine. Better
that way, in fact. Mackenzie was the important one, and Erin hadn’t wanted to
send that other picture to begin with.

Erin was so
glad that the photos had meant something to Seth over the last months. That
Mackenzie
had meant something to him.

The baby spit
up an impressive amount of milk. Erin wiped it up. “Well. That was quite a
burp. Good job.”

In response, Mackenzie
just smacked her lips a few times.

“Still hungry?”
Erin repositioned her daughter. She patted Mackenzie's back as the little mouth
latched on again and started to suck. “I know. I’m sorry you had to wait so
long. It was very upsetting. For both of us. Mommy has
got
to do
better.”

“Is everything
all right?”

Erin almost
jumped in surprise at the mild voice. Seth stood in the doorway.

He wore only a
pair of pants. Nothing else. And the black trousers rode low on his hips,
emphasizing his flat abdomen and well-cut chest.

For the first
time in ages, Erin looked at a man’s body with pure appreciation.  That was the
extent of it, of course—since she wasn’t about to feel anything stronger while
her baby was being fed—but, still, the extent of her appreciation almost
surprised her.

Finally
realizing he’d asked her a question, she said, “Oh. Yeah. She was really upset
because she was hungry. Sorry if she woke you up.”

Seth came over
to seat himself on the ottoman in front of the chair. His eyes focused on Mackenzie’s
face.

 “I hope it’s
all right that I came in here. The chair—”

“It’s fine. I
wanted you to make yourself at home.”

Erin saw his
eyes move betrayingly to the stack of photos beneath the book on the side
table.

She pretended
not to notice. Didn’t even glance over to where she knew all those pictures of Mackenzie
were located.

“She’s okay now?”
Seth asked.

“Yeah. It
doesn’t take much to make her happy.”

They were
silent for a long time, until Mackenzie finished eating and Erin held her
upright again.

Rubbing her
daughter's back, Erin couldn’t stand the tense silence anymore. It had never
been like this between them before. “I realize things might be a little awkward
between us for a while, as we start to get used to each other again, but I’m
really glad you’re willing to be involved and be her father.”

Evidently he’d
been thinking along the same lines, because his face relaxed slightly. “I don’t
blame you for being skeptical of my intentions and commitment, but I’m serious
about this. I'm not going to walk away from the two of you again.”

Erin nodded
mutely and tried to think of some way to bridge this silent gap between them.  It
wasn't going to happen overnight, but she wanted to at least make a start.

Then she
thought of something and voiced it before she chickened out. “Do you want to
come to dinner at my place next Friday? Liz and my dad are coming over. I was
going to actually try to cook something. They think I don't socialize enough.”

“All right. I’ll
come. Thank you for the invitation.”

They were
silent again—the uncertainty lingering in the air between them.

“It might be a
little awkward, at the dinner, I mean,” Erin warned him, wanting to say
anything to cut the silence. “Liz is really mad at you—for good reason, I might
add—and I’m not sure how my dad will feel about you now.”

“I’m willing to
risk it. I can guarantee that I've faced much more hostile audiences. If it’s
possible, I’d like to be part of your life again.”

Erin looked
down—feeling absurdly embarrassed again. “I’d like that too.”

Another long
silence, filled with something different.

This time, Seth
broke the silence first. “Is there...” he began, swallowing and then beginning
again. “Is there any chance that you might change your mind—about what you told
me in the hospital?”

The pang in Erin’s
chest shot through her heart—sharp and sudden and painful. “Seth, I just don’t
think so.” At the resigned acceptance on his face, she forced herself to add,
“And I’m afraid it’s going to take me a little while to even get back to where
we were before—in terms of trusting you.”