And then Nicole went downstairs to wait for her mother to arrive.
Red was brewing coffee when Nicole entered the kitchen. He looked up at her, his expression hopeful. Nicole knew what that expression meant. She knew he was waiting for the real Nicole to come back to him. This walking, talking ghost—this strange phantom was not the Nicole he’d fallen in love with.
“Want some coffee?” he asked, his voice a little too chipper.
She shook her head and sat down heavily at the breakfast nook.
“Well,” he continued, watching the pot brew, “your mother will probably want a pick-me-up after the drive from Syracuse.”
“Yeah, probably. That’s nice of you.”
He smiled. “Well, I’m kind of awesome so…”
Nicole tried to smile back at him. “You are awesome.” And then she thought what a great father he’d have made to their little Renee and the tears came to her eyes before she could stop them.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked, moving quickly toward her.
She waved him off. “I’m fine. I’m just being silly.”
“No you’re not, Nicole. Don’t say that.” He stood by the counter and looked at her. The concern was written all over his face. “You’ve been through something horrible. Of course you’re sad.”
She sniffed, taking some tissues out of her pocket and wiping her eyes and nose. “I just feel like enough is enough already.”
“It’s been less than a week,” he said. “Go easy on yourself.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Nicole said, shaking her head. “I was so sure she was going to be ours. I was certain of it.”
“She was ours—she’ll always be ours,” he said, coming over and taking her by the shoulders. Red’s eyes looked into Nicole’s and his voice was firm. “And for the short time she was a part of this world, inside of you, she was loved. We’re never going to forget about our baby girl. Never.”
Nicole hugged him then, because he’d just uttered out loud the very thing she’d promised herself. She hadn’t thought anyone would understand her need to remember such a little thing—a little baby that had barely even existed to the rest of the world. But she did need to remember, and apparently so did Red.
As they were hugging and taking comfort in each other’s arms, there was the loud chime of the doorbell.
“My mother,” Nicole whispered.
“Now just relax and try not to get worked up,” Red cautioned. “You know how she can be.”
“I’ll try.” She smiled an over the top, clownish smile. “See how good I am?”
“Oh, boy.” Red took a deep breath. Then he went to answer the door. Nicole heard them speaking in low tones that echoed to her from the foyer.
A minute later, in strode her mother looking like she’d been shot out of a cannon. She was always energetic, but it seemed that much more over the top now that Nicole was so depressed.
“Honey,” her mother said, smiling sadly and rushing over for a hug. She had a purse on her arm but also a large plastic bag with something large in it that Nicole couldn’t yet identify.
Red followed behind the older woman. “I’ve made a pot of coffee.”
“Oh, you’re such a dear. That would be lovely,” the older woman told him.
Nicole watched her mother with dull suspicion. Her demeanor was strange—far too friendly to be real—especially towards Red. Hadn’t she hated the man just a week ago?
The older woman took a seat alongside Nicole at the breakfast nook as Red poured her a coffee, as well as one for himself.
“How do you take it?” he asked.
“A dash of cream and one sugar,” her mother said.
Red fixed it up quickly, stirred it and handed the cup to her with an easy grin. “Hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I’ll like it. Is it some specialty brew?”
“Starbucks French Roast,” he said.
Nicole thought her mother seemed nonplussed, as if she’d been hoping for something more exotic. “I could never afford to have Starbucks every day,” she said, sipping from her mug. “I have to settle for Folgers mostly.”
Red nodded empathetically.
Nicole stared at her hands.
“Honey,” her mother said softly.
Nicole looked up at her. “Yes?”
“You seem depressed.”
“I guess I am depressed.”
Her mother nodded thoughtfully. “I know this is a difficult time. It’s awful what happened. Your father and I were crushed when Red called and told us the news.”
Red walked over to the counter, holding his own cup of coffee and surveying the tense scene unfolding before him with trepidation. “Nicole and I truly appreciated your condolences and the flowers that arrived yesterday,” he said.
Barb nodded to him. “Of course, it was the least we could do.” She brightened visibly and turned to Nicole. “Anyway, I brought something along that should cheer you up.”
Nicole looked on doubtfully as her mother opened the plastic bag and took out swatches of different colored cloths with different designs on each.