The Blackstone Chronicles

Chapter 8

“Something’s wrong with Mommy,” Megan announced as her father came through the front door. She was sitting on the bottom step of the hall stairway, her face stormy. “She took Sam.”
“Your doll?” Bill asked, “Why would she do that?”
“I don’t know,” Megan replied. “And she got mad at Mrs. Goodrich too. Real mad.” Then she saw the paper bags tied with red ribbon, and got up. “Is that for me?”
“One bag’s for you,” Bill told her, “and one’s for your mother, and one’s for Mrs. Goodrich.” He gave her one of the little bags of chocolate Kisses. “You can have one now. Then we’ll put the rest away for later.”
“Mommy shouldn’t get any,” Megan said. “If I were bad, you wouldn’t let me have any.”
Bill knelt down so his eyes were level with his daughter’s. “Honey, Mommy isn’t being bad. She’s just very, very sad right now. And if she took your doll, I’m sure there’s a good reason.”
Megan shook her head. “She just wanted it. But Sam wants to be with me.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Bill said. “I’ll go up and talk to Mommy, and see if I can find out why she took Sam. Okay?” Megan nodded, her hand disappearing into the bag, emerging with a fistful of Kisses. “Only one now,” Bill said. “You can have another after lunch. And we’ll save the rest for later.”
Megan hesitated, calculating the odds of getting her way if she begged for more of the candy right now. Reluctantly, she dropped all but one of the chocolates back in the bag. As her father started up the stairs, though, she quickly sneaked another one, and then a third.
Bill headed for the master bedroom, expecting to find Elizabeth either in bed or lying on the chaise. But the room was empty. Then, through the open door to the bathroom, he heard the soft creaking of the antique rocker in the nursery. Why would Elizabeth have gone in there? Since the miscarriage, even he hadn’t been able to bring himself to go into the room they’d been preparing for the new baby. And for Elizabeth, going into the nursery had to be agonizing. Yet something had drawn her into it.
He crossed the bedroom and stepped into the connecting bathroom. Though the door opposite him stood ajar, he could see little of the room beyond. And now in addition to the creaking rocking chair, he could hear Elizabeth, quietly humming a lullaby.
He pushed the door to the nursery farther open.
Elizabeth was seated in the chair. Her back was to him, but he could see that she was holding something in her arms.
Something to which she was humming the quiet song.
“Elizabeth?” he asked, starting toward the chair.
The rocking stopped, as did Elizabeth’s humming. “Bill?”
He bent over to kiss her on the cheek, but pulled back abruptly.
In her arms, wrapped in the soft pink and blue woolen blanket they had bought only a week earlier, was the doll. Its blue eyes were staring up at him, and for the tiniest fraction of a second Bill had the feeling that they were watching him. But then the moment passed and he brushed his lips against Elizabeth’s cheek.
Her flesh felt oddly cold.
“Honey? Are you all right?”
Elizabeth nodded, but said nothing.
“I brought you something.”
A flicker of interest came into her eyes, and she stood up. “Let me just put the baby back in his crib.”
The baby … The words echoed in Bill’s mind as Elizabeth gently laid the doll in the crib and tucked the little blanket around it. “How come you brought Megan’s doll in here?” he asked as she turned back to face him. A flash of confusion appeared in Elizabeth’s eyes, and then they cleared.
“Well, we don’t really know the doll was meant for her, do we?” she asked, but there was a brittleness to her voice that sent a warning chill through her husband. “It could have been for the new baby, couldn’t it?”
“I suppose it could,” Bill conceded uneasily. “But don’t you think—”
“Can’t we just leave it here for now, at least?” Elizabeth pleaded. “When I came in here this morning, the room just seemed so empty, and lonely, but when I brought Sam in, it just seemed to fill right up.” Her eyes flicked toward the crib. “Sam,” she repeated. “What a nice name. I always thought if we had a boy, it would be nice to name him Sam.”
Another warning current tingled through Bill. Though he and Elizabeth had discussed a lot of names, he couldn’t remember either one of them ever mentioning Sam. “I think Megan really—” Bill began, only to be quickly interrupted by his wife.
“Megan can get along without the doll for now,” she said. “And it will only be for a day or two.” She smiled at him, then moved close, putting her arms around him. “I can’t explain it, really,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear. “It just makes it easier for me. Can’t you understand that?”
Bill’s arms closed around her and he wished there were something—anything—he could do to ease her pain. “Of course I can understand,” he replied. “If it makes you feel better, there’s no reason you can’t keep the doll in here for a little while. I’m sure Megan will understand.”
In the hall outside the nursery, Megan scowled angrily. Her father hadn’t taken the doll away from her mother after all.
In fact, he’d told her she could keep it.
And Megan didn’t understand.
She didn’t understand at all.