I would change the baby’s diaper, wrap her in fresh blankets I’d left warming on the radiator. I’d feed her a cold bottle, sitting cross-legged on the floor with her propped on my lap.
The baby would fall asleep. Then I would return her to the nest in the hall closet, before heading back outside and refilling the tiny hole, working, just as my mother had done, by the glow of a flashlight.
If I did everything right, in the morning, there would be no sign of tonight. It would be erased, a bad dream that never happened. And my mother would wake up happy, maybe singing lightly under her breath, and she would dance around the house with me, giddy and gay, and she would kiss and hug the baby, and everything would be all right again. She would love us.
For a little bit, anyway.
I nestled deeper into the tree limbs. Felt the warmth of the baby against my chest. Hoped she felt my warmth, too, as I wrapped my other arm around her and held on tight.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to her now. “Almost done now. Almost safe.”
She was no longer crying. Instead, she stared up at me with big brown eyes.
Then her little face lit up in a giant toothless grin.
She beamed up at me, my beautiful baby sister, Abigail.
Chapter 25
D.D. MADE IT TO THE RESTAURANT ON TIME. Alex had selected the Legal Seafood on the water, next to the Boston aquarium. It was close to the airport, offered good food and great views. D.D. knew the restaurant well, had used to walk there from her North End condo. Walking, however, was much easier than navigating the crush of rush hour traffic.
She plodded up 93, then looped through an elaborate off-ramp pattern that mostly involved sitting at red lights for three to four turns at a time.
By the time she arrived at the waterfront location, she was tense, frazzled, and pretty sure she had sweat through the blue silk blouse she’d bought the week before, in anticipation of meeting her mother.
Across from the restaurant was a public parking garage. D.D. wound her way up the levels until she was lucky enough to discover an empty space, way in the back, as far away from the stairwell as one could get. The space was marked COMPACT ONLY. She wedged her Crown Vic carefully into the narrow confines, then eased open her door.
As she stepped out of her car, the icy cold sliced through her like a knife. She went from overheated to shivering in a matter of seconds.
She should start walking, warm herself up.
She stood there instead, feeling like a little girl again, dragging her feet as she got home from school, because she had another note from her teacher in her backpack and her mother would be angry again. Worse, her mother would never say a word. She’d just thin her lips and look at her in a way D.D. knew too well.
I am a grown adult, D.D. reminded herself. A top detective, respected by cops, feared by felons.
It wasn’t working for her yet. She wanted it to, but it wasn’t working.
She thought of Alex and baby Jack instead. The way Alex was no doubt sitting patiently with her parents, easing them into their visit, encouraging them to fuss over their grandchild. The way Alex would look up when she finally walked into the restaurant. The way he would smile, instantly, genuinely, as she appeared table-side.
D.D. started walking, one black booted step in front of another as she made her way across the garage, down the stairwell, then across the snowy street until she arrived in front of the bustling restaurant.
Final deep breath. Reminding herself that a woman who worked death investigations could surely handle one dinner with her own parents.
Her hands trembled.
She went in.