year.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yes, oh.’ A shiver danced along her spine. Was it a reaction to the cold? Or was it a reaction to saying those words out loud?
Dan stood up and pulled her along with him. ‘Let’s do this inside. Let’s do this inside with Abraham.’
Even now he didn’t want to leave the baby on his own. Dan was being a good parent. It made this seem so much easier.
Abraham was wrapped in a towel, his bare toes kicking at the air above. As Dan closed the door behind them, shutting out the cold winter air, she knew what she had to do. She knew what would help her through this.
She picked up the kicking bundle and held him close to her chest, taking some deep breaths in and out.
She couldn’t think of a single reason why this made her feel better. The thought of holding another baby in her arms had terrified her for so long. But the past few days had been cathartic.
Never, in a million years, would she have thought that holding another baby in her arms while she talked about the one she had lost would feel okay. Would actually feel quite right. If she’d ever planned to share, it would never have been like this.
‘It wasn’t too long ago.’ Her words were firmer than she expected. She’d always thought that she’d never be able to get them out.
Maybe it was because she was with Dan. Maybe it was because he was literally a captive audience with no place to go. Maybe it was because she knew he couldn’t run out on her if he didn’t like what he heard. Maybe it was because she was beginning to feel as if she could tell this guy anything.
‘Fifteenth of May last year, I had a little girl. Ruby. She was stillborn.’
There was silence.
It seemed important. Even though she hated the word stillborn it seemed important to her to tell him what had happened to her baby. She didn’t want him to think she’d given her baby up for adoption, or done the same as Abraham’s mother and abandoned her.
What was he thinking? And then a warm hand crept up and covered hers, squeezing gently. ‘I’m sorry you lost your daughter, Carrie. That must have been a terrible time for you.’
The quiet acknowledgement made tears spring to her eyes. ‘Thank you, Dan,’ she whispered.
For Ruby. He was expressing his sorrow for the loss of her daughter. For Ruby. Some people didn’t like to acknowledge a baby who had been lost. Some people didn’t even want to say their names. It was easier to pretend they’d never existed. After all, babies who had never drawn breath in this world, they practically hadn’t been here.
Except Ruby had been here.
She’d kicked under her mother’s expanding stomach for seven months. She’d twisted and turned in the middle of the night, constantly having dancing competitions that kept her mother awake into the small hours. Sometimes a little foot or hand had been clearly visible as Carrie had lain watching her belly.
Ruby McKenzie had definitely existed. And it was so nice to finally talk about her. Talk about her in a normal way instead of in hushed, quiet tones.
‘Is that what’s in the silver box upstairs?’
Now he had surprised her. ‘How do you know about the box?’
‘I saw it sitting on your bed when we were in your apartment. I saw the way you looked at it.’ He gave her a little smile. ‘It’s pretty. And it seemed important.’ His finger traced along the knuckles of her hand, small circular motions. ‘Your place. You didn’t have pictures up. For a woman, that struck me as strange. I figured you had a good reason and didn’t want to ask.’
A tear slid down her cheek. ‘I’m trying to get away from memories. That’s why I’m in New York. It seemed like a good time to get away. Everything and everyone back home just reminded me of last year. It made sense. Coming here, getting away from it all.’
Dan traced his finger from her hand to her breastbone. His voice was intense. ‘You can’t get away from what’s in here, Carrie. It stays with you all the time—no matter where you go.’
Wow. Her breath caught in her throat.
It was the way he said the words. The understanding. How could Dan be so in tune with things? There was an intensity she hadn’t seen before. A darkening of his brown eyes from caramel tones to deep chocolate colours.
He knew. He understood her straight away, and she didn’t know why.
‘I know that. But sometimes what’s in here feels easier if you’ve got room to deal with it yourself.’ Easier than everyone clamouring around you, suffocating you with their grief.
‘And has it been? Has it been easier, Carrie?’
‘I thought it was. I thought I was coming to terms with things.’ Her eyes went down to Abraham. ‘Until now. Until him.’ She could hear the waver in her voice, feel the tremble in her throat. She desperately wanted to keep it together. She wanted to put her thoughts, feelings and frustrations into words—in a way she’d never managed before.
But Dan’s reaction was flooring her. She couldn’t have asked for more.
Dan shook his head. ‘No wonder you didn’t want to help out. No wonder you tried to make excuses.’ His eyes were still heavy with weariness and she could see the lines on his face. He was fighting fatigue with every bone in his body.
He turned around on the sofa so he was facing her entirely. ‘I’m sorry, Carrie. I had no idea how hard this was for you. But I really needed your help. I couldn’t do this on my own. I don’t know the first thing about babies.’
The gentle tears were still flowing. ‘And neither do I, Dan. I never got the chance to find out. And I’m so worried I’ll do something wrong. What if I caused Ruby to be stillborn? What if it was something I did? Something I ate? I’m not sure I should be around babies. I’m terrified that I’ll do something wrong. What if he’s sick and I don’t know it? What if the jaundice gets worse instead of better?’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve already held one dead baby in my arms. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Abraham.’
Panic was welling up inside her and threatening to take over.
Some things were still too much for her. Still too raw.
Dan put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Don’t, Carrie. Don’t do this to yourself. We’ve spoken to Shana. You heard what she said. As soon as possible, she’ll arrange to examine Abraham and make sure everything is fine. Nothing happened today when you bathed him. Abraham must have just held his breath. As soon as you handed him to me, it was almost as if he let out a little squawk. It was nothing you did, Carrie. Nothing at all. As for doing something wrong—I’m more likely to do that than you. You’re a natural. Everything you do is right. No matter how hard you’re finding this, you still make a much better parent than I do. I couldn’t even get a diaper on straight!’ He pressed his fingers into the tops of her arms. ‘I don’t know what happened to Ruby, but I don’t believe for a second it was your fault. Did they ever tell you? What did the medical examiner say?’
Carrie
