“What?” Jenna's face hardens. “Are you kidding? Sunday is our day. I leave again onTuesday.”
“Claire has school during the week. I’m lucky Aubrey is even letting me see her. She doesn’t have to, you know. I have no right to her yet.” But I will. It’s something I’m going to seeabout.
I sigh and study my fiancée’s face. The shock is still there in her dazed, bugged out eyes. I can’t blame her for that, but shocked or not, I need to know where she stands. “Are you with me in this, Jenna? We need to be ateam.”
Jenna stares at me, her face only inches from mine. Her blue eyes are cold. It’s terrible timing, but I can’t control my thoughts, and right now I’m picturing Aubrey’s eyes and how, even when she was revealing to me her ugly truth, her blue eyes remainedwarm.
“No.” The surprise is gone from her face. Now her gaze is steady, a carefully placed mask of frosty calm. “I signed up to marry Isaac the brilliant orthopedic surgeon. Not Isaac the single dad.” She steps away fromme.
I silently repeat what she’s said, just to make sure I understood. Hernois echoing in my mind. “Are you kidding me?” I have to ask, because what she just said is inconceivable to me. If the situation were reversed, I know where I wouldstand.
“Isaac, I love you. I want to build a life with you.” She takes another step away, her eyes on me. “I want kids, you know that. Just not somebody else’s.” She pivots and walks from thekitchen.
Like someone punched me in the gut, the air whooshes out of me. How could someone not want Claire? I hardly know her, and I want her more than I’ve ever wantedanything.
I stay there, in my kitchen, until Jenna comes back a minute later. Her roller bag is behind her, and I realize she was still packed from hertrip.
“It’s not fair of you to expect me to accept this.” She stands straight, like she’s up against awall.
“I knew you’d be upset,but—”
“Stop. Don’t tell me how I’m supposed to be a bigger person.” She waves a stiff hand while she speaks. “Don’t tell me how I’m supposed to be understanding. It’s not fair for you to expect me to wantthis.”
I’m not sure if I’m stunned or disappointed or both. “If you loved me, really loved me, you would find it in your heart to love what I created. She’s a part of me. That will never change. And now that I know about her, I’m never going to be without her.” I feel it so strongly that I wonder if, on some level, I knew there was a person out there with my DNA. The moment I spent in Claire’s bedroom, watching her sleep, I feltwhole.
Jenna stares at me, her face stoic. Between the empty expression and the white blond hair, she looks like an ice queen. With a heart tomatch.
She pivots and walks, the small plastic wheels on her roller bag making the only sound in theplace.
Bump, bump, bumpinto thefoyer.
Bump, bump, bumpover thethreshold.
The slam of the front door is like the exclamation point on her noisydeparture.
I could go after her. Make her see my side of this. Ask her to look at it differently. The seconds tick by and I stay frozen in place. After a minute, I know I’ve lost thechance.
Honestly, I don’t know if I wantedit.
The swings were alwaysmy favorite as a child, and they’re Claire’s favorite too. Seven times since she woke up this morning I’ve told her she won’t be on the swings again for months. And just now makes the eighth time I’ve saidit.
“But, Mom.” She draws out the vowel so it sounds more likeMo-om.
“No, Claire,” I say a little too sharply. Regret blossomsinstantly.
“I’m sorry, baby.” I pull her up against my side, careful not to touch her hurt arm. “I’m just a little out of sorts today. Forgiveme?”
I feel the bob of her little head against mythigh.
“WhatcanI do today?” She sighs and sits down carefully on the little pink-and-yellow striped chair with her name embroidered on theslipcover.
“We can play games. We can watch a movie. Just take it easy until you get your real cast.” This isn’t going to be simple. Claire is accident-prone, but she always bounced off whatever she collided with, including the ground. Before yesterday we joked she had rubber bands forbones.
“Hmph,” she says, petulant. If she could cross her arms right now, she would. “I wish Grandpa washere.”
My dad left early this morning. He didn't tell me where he was going, but it's his day off, so it's safe to assume he’s trekking over some far-off mountain and he’ll be gone all day. Hunting is his passion, and if he's not hunting, he'shiking.
“What if I told you you’re going to have a visitor?” I try to smile, but trepidation might as well be my middle name right now. How am I ever going to tell her aboutIsaac?
