“Can I pick her up?” Emily saw the diapers and wipes on the bed beside me. “Oh, Roe, you’ve been taking care of her yourself? While you’re ill? Where is … oh, wait, this is the weekend for Robin’s award thing, right?”
“I didn’t want him to miss his big moment. At least, I hope it’s his big moment,” I said. “Virginia Mitchell is coming in at night.”
“I heard she’s pretty good. But you’re on your own now? I’m glad I came by,” Emily said. “I’ll take care of Sophie for a while, okay? So you can shower and take care of yourself without worrying.”
“Oh, Emily,” I said, feeling a bloom of gratitude unfolding. I didn’t bother to hide my relief. “That would be wonderful.”
Sophie seemed to be content at the moment, so Emily carried her off to give her a bath and a wardrobe change. “Is the sink in the hall bathroom okay for a quick wash-off?” Emily called.
“Yes,” I called back. I would have agreed to anything Emily proposed at that point. She was a baby-charmer; there wasn’t a peep from Sophie.
Though I was reluctant to leave the warmth of the covers, this was a golden opportunity. I dragged myself out of the bed, and in so doing I discovered the sheets were wet with sweat. I laboriously stripped it. No matter how sick I felt (and that was pretty damn sick), I couldn’t stand the idea of getting back between those sheets. Moving very slowly, I remade the bed and tossed the soiled ones into the hamper. My nightgown followed the sheets.
By the time I stepped into the shower, I was exhausted. But all my effort was worth the consequence. It was a wonderful shower, close to the top of the list of my all-time best. The hot water felt unbelievably good. Turning it off reluctantly, delighted to feel clean, I dried off as quickly as I could and used another towel on my hair.
I was freezing by then, my teeth chattering. I pulled on some pajamas Robin had given me, lightweight and cheerful and decorated with stars. No matter how debilitated I’d become, a clean body and clean sheets were real morale boosters.
By that time Emily was bringing the baby back, and Sophie too looked refreshed. She was wearing her pink sleeper with the bunnies all over it, my particular favorite. And now, she was hungry, as she made abundantly clear.
I didn’t know how Emily would react to my breast-feeding, so I tried to be as discreet as I’d been when Phillip had been in the room. But (again to my surprise) Emily sat on the slipper chair and seemed prepared to chat.
“Is it really safe for you to breast-feed?” she asked. “Shouldn’t I try to fix her a bottle?”
“I’d say yes in a heartbeat, but Sophie won’t take a bottle. She just won’t. Believe me, we tried, so we’d have an alternative, in case something came up … like me getting the flu,” I said ruefully. “It’s me, or nothing.” I recounted my talk with Dr. Garrison. “That’s why I look like a spacewoman.”
Emily nodded and dropped the subject. “How is Phillip liking public school?” she asked.
Emily’s daughter, Liza, had had a crush on Phillip, which he had good-naturedly tolerated. That’s a pretty normal occurrence. But my brother and Liza had gone through a crisis together. Now they were friends, despite the difference in their ages. Not that the two hung out—teen society would hardly stand for that, and probably that was their own inclination, too. But when they saw each other, they had a conversation: not the norm between a sixteen-year-old boy and a twelve-year-old girl.
“Phillip really seems happy,” I said. “And he says classes are not too easy, but not too hard.”
“I remember he was in some kind of home-schooled network?”
“Yes. I didn’t know those existed until Phillip came here. I had to learn a lot in a hurry.” He’d landed in Lawrenceton right before his mid-semester exams. Many phone calls and e-mails had ensued.
“Do you think he’ll stay here? Or go back to California?”
“We’re happy to have him. He’s happy to be here. My stepmother is off e-mail and the telephone in a commune in California, and my dad has so many financial problems that he isn’t exactly anxious for Phillip to come home.”
Emily shook her head. “They don’t know what they’ve given up.”
I was pleased that she shared my good opinion of my brother.
I switched Sophie to the other side. “How is Liza doing, in her new school?” I asked. After Liza had endured a year of bullying, the Scotts had withdrawn Liza from the local middle school and enrolled her in a Christian academy in the next town.
Emily smiled, and it made her whole face light up. “Her grades are great! She comes home from school with a smile on her face. She has new friends. I worried after the kidnapping.…”
Last year, Phillip and Liza had been abducted. I’d found them none too soon. “Does she have nightmares?” I asked. I looked down to see Sophie’s eyes closed in concentration. She was so beautiful!
“She hasn’t said so. But she can’t forgive them.”
“The kidnappers? Or the girls who were tormenting her?”
“All of them. That’s quite a few people to hate.”
I would not have thought of suggesting Liza forgive them, myself, but I was not as good a Christian as Emily. I hesitated before I spoke. “I think forgiveness doesn’t happen overnight. I think it comes in increments. When someone has made your life hell, maybe you have to recover from the fear and anger first? Before you start working on the other thing.”
Emily considered this idea. “Maybe that’s true. Has Phillip talked about it?”
“Not a lot. But he’s actually looking forward to the trial.”
Emily looked surprised. “Really?”
I shrugged. “He wants them to pay for what they did.”
“Hmmm. When she sees justice done, maybe that’ll give Liza some kind of…”
Don’t say it, I thought. Don’t say it, don’t say it …
“… closure,” Emily finished.
I sighed, I hoped not audibly. I realized closure was a necessary event, mentally and emotionally, but it seemed to me closure might gain traction as gradually as forgiveness did. These were not clear-cut stages with a beginning and a definite end. “We’ll all feel better when it’s over and done with,” I said gently. Sophie had let go of my breast, and her eyelids were fluttering. “She’s almost asleep,” I said quietly.
“I’ll burp her.” Emily reached down for Sophie, and I handed her over along with a receiving blanket to drape Emily’s shoulder. With a smile on her face, Emily patted Sophie gently.
“You really have to be forceful when you’re burping her,” I said. “And I warn you, she burps like a sailor.”
Just then, a huge belch erupted from my little baby. Emily laughed out loud. She continued patting Sophie, regularly, softly. Sophie’s eyelids fluttered once, fluttered twice, and she was out.
Emily raised her eyebrows in query. Her crib? she mouthed.
I nodded. “Please.”
When Emily returned, she seemed to have something on her mind. Maybe she’d had a goal all along.
“Thanks so much for dropping by in my hour of need,” I said, to prime the pump.