Part 5 (2/2)
Dana knew loss. It was a paramount theme of her early life. She had been five when her mother was ”lost,” but it was another three years before she could say the word ”dead” and several more after that before she could grasp what it meant.
”Lost” was a gentler word. Her grandmother used it repeatedly in the days after the sea had swept Elizabeth away. Dana had never seen her mother lifeless. They had been wading, and while Dana continued to play in the shallows, her mother swam out beyond the surf. Dana hadn't seen her pulled away by the undertow. Nor did she see the wave that hit her own body and knocked her senseless. By the time she woke up in the hospital, ten days had pa.s.sed, and the funeral was done. She never even saw her mother's casket.
”Lost” meant that her mother could still be found. To that end, Dana spent hours in the yarn store with her eyes on the door, waiting, fearing that her world would positively fall apart if her mother didn't come home.
The fear eased with time. The yarn shop was her port and Ellie Jo her anchor. But part of her always felt that little hole inside. Then she met Hugh, and the hole shrank.
Her eyes opened at the sound of the door. Trying to gauge Hugh's mood, she watched him approach the bed. His focus was on Lizzie, sleeping now in the crook of her arm. His expression softened.
He did love this child. Dana knew he did. He had to. He was that kind of man.
”Did you see David?” he asked after a bit.
”Sure did,” Dana said lightly. ”He was very sweet.”
”What did he say?”
She didn't go into David's praise of the baby. That wasn't what Hugh wanted to hear. ”He said that one of us has African roots. He says it explains why he's always felt connected to us.”
Hugh snorted. When Dana sent him a questioning look, he said, ”I'm glad we're connected. He'll be able to tell us what we can expect down the road, his Ali being biracial and all.”
”She's arriving this week. She'll be here until school starts.”
Hugh nodded. After a minute, he said, ”Ali's a sweetie. I love seeing her.” After another silence, he looked down at the baby. ”Can I hold her?”
Heartened, Dana carefully transferred her to Hugh's arms. Lizzie didn't wake.
He studied her. ”She seems like an easy baby. Will this last?”
”I just asked the nurse the same question. She said maybe yes, maybe no. Did you get something to eat?”
He nodded and glanced at the tray on the bedstand. ”You?”
”Some. Did you make more calls?”
”Accessed messages, mostly. I talked with Robert. Dad's in a stew.”
”Then it's good that this isn't Dad's baby,” Dana remarked, mimicking Hugh. When he didn't reply, she added, ”Did you talk with him directly?”
”No.”
”Maybe you should. Get it out in the open.”
”I'm not ready. My parents are...my parents.”
”They're elitist,” Dana said.
”That's unfair.”
”Does it fit?”
”No,” he replied, but not quickly enough.
”Then it's only the surprise that's the problem,” said Dana. ”They'll get over this, Hugh. It isn't a tragedy.”
s.h.i.+fting the baby in his arms, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed.
”It isn't,” Dana insisted. ”Tragedy is when a baby is born with a heart defect or a degenerative disease. Our baby is healthy. She's responsive. She's beautiful.”
”She just isn't us,” Hugh said, sounding bewildered.
”Isn't us? Or just isn't the us we know?”
”Is there a difference?”
”Yes. Babies are born all the time with features from earlier generations. It just takes a little digging to learn the source.” When Hugh didn't answer, Dana added, ”Look at it this way. Having a baby of color will boost your image as the rebel lawyer.” When Hugh snorted again, she teased, ”You did want to be different, didn't you?” He didn't reply. ”Come on, Hugh,” she pleaded. ”Smile?”
The smile came only when he looked at the baby again. ”She is special, that's for sure.”
”Have you taken any good pictures?”
He glanced toward his camera, which lay in the folds of her bag by the wall, and said with a brief burst of enthusiasm, even wonder, ”Y'know, I have.” Securing the baby in his left arm, he retrieved the camera and turned it on. With the ease of intimacy, he sat close beside Dana and scrolled through the shots with her. In that split-second of closeness, everything was right.
”OmiG.o.d, look,” she cried. ”She's what there-seconds old?”
”And this one of you holding her for the first time.”
”I look awful!”
He chuckled. ”It wasn't like you'd just been to a picnic.” He pulled up another shot. ”Look at those eyes. She's remarkable. So aware from the start. And wait.” He scrolled farther. ”Here.”
Dana caught her breath. ”Amazing you got that. She's looking at me with total intelligence. Can you crop me out?”
”Why would I want to? This is an incredible mother-daughter shot.”
”For the announcement. We want one just of her.”
Hugh scrolled through several more pictures. ”Here's a nice one. I'll print these up tonight and put them in the alb.u.m you got at the shower.”
”How about the announcement?” Dana said again. ”We need a picture for that. The stationery store promised they'd have them ready to go in a week once we give them everything.”
Hugh was focused on the monitor, scrolling forward and back. ”I'm not sure any of these is perfect.”
”Even that first one? I love it because she isn't all swaddled. Her hands are so delicate.”
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