Mission Creek Mother-To-Be

That was a fortunate by-product of being in South Texas. So far, the paparazzi didn’t know she was here. With any luck, they’d concentrate on more interesting people and not even look. Although she was modest about how interesting she was to the public, Melanie was realistic enough to know that, thanks to Roberto’s book, her being here to get artificially inseminated was newsworthy to the tabloids.

“Actually, Linda,” she said in a confidential tone, “I’m here for a medical procedure, but I don’t really want people to know I’m here, if I can avoid it.”

Linda made the sign of locking her lips and throwing away the key. “They won’t hear it from me. In fact, I’ll squelch the rumors if I can.”

Melanie smiled. “Thanks. Now, since I am working here for the moment, what can I do for you?”

“I need to leave Dan here for a couple of hours this morning.” Again she shifted her grip on the squirming toddler. “My mother normally takes him but she has a dental appointment. Em knows I have to spring this on her every once in a while, but usually I’m able to give her at least a little warning.”

“No problem,” Melanie said, hoping she was right and that it wasn’t going to be a problem for Em. “You just leave little Dan with me and I’ll see to it that he gets the very best care.”

“Thanks.” Linda shuffled the warm bundle to Melanie’s arms without hesitation. “My mom will be here by noon. Em knows her.” She glanced at her watch again and made a face. “Gotta run. It was nice meeting you, and don’t worry, mum’s the word!”

She rushed off, leaving Melanie standing there with the toddler in her arms, staring at her. He didn’t seem afraid, merely curious. His little face, just a few inches from hers, was so cute she nearly laughed.

“Hi there,” she said to him.

He blinked his large blue eyes, studying her silently.

“You want to play?” she asked.

He still didn’t answer. She wondered if he understood her.

“How about if we read a book?”

At this, his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Book,” he repeated, enunciating the k. “Book.”

Melanie felt nothing short of triumphant. “Yes, book!” They were communicating. It was a great feeling. “Let’s find a book.”

She carried him over to a shelf of picture books and leaned over to pick one. “Oh, Goodnight Moon,” she said, in a tone of reverence. She took the familiar favorite off the shelf and looked at the picture on the front. She hadn’t seen it in at least twenty years and probably longer, but she knew every tiny detail right down to the number of stars out the window.

One of the clearest memories she had of her mother was of her reading Goodnight Moon to her when she was small. “And goodnight to the old lady whispering ‘hush’…”

She carried the book and the child to a large comfortable rocking chair and sat down to read. The boy settled in against her, his blond head warm against her chest.

Melanie smiled down at the top of his head, then opened the book. “‘In the great green room,”’ she started, then stopped for a moment, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

The boy turned in her lap and touched her chin.

She reached up and twined the little fingers in hers. “‘There was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.”’

The boy pointed a pudgy little finger and moved it across the next page to the picture of the little mouse. Melanie laughed with sheer delight, remembering how she used to do that same thing herself. Find the mouse in every color picture. She supposed it was something all parents passed on to their children.

He moved his finger to the picture of the window. “Star,” he said, pointing at the little white specks.

“That’s right, stars.”

She read the rest of the book, stopping to linger over the pictures on every page. It gave her a funny feeling to see them again. In a way, it made her melancholy, remembering the warmth of her childhood, and then the sudden cold when she’d lost her parents. But it also lit within her an optimism that she could feel that warmth again, with her own child. The fire would be rekindled and she would keep it stoked this time.

She finished the book and closed it. “Should we read another one?” she asked Dan, setting the book aside.

“Book,” he said, but he stayed where he was, leaning comfortably against her. She loved the feeling so much she didn’t want to move.

He tipped his head back and pointed to her ear. “Star,” he said.

“Ear,” she corrected.

Dan was insistent. “Star.” He touched her diamond stud earring.

“Oh, I see. It looks like a star, yes.”

“Star,” he said again, nodding and pushing his finger against it.

“Hey, Dan,” a familiar voice said next to them. “Melanie. How’s it going?”

Melanie looked up, surprised to see Jared Cross again. Was he checking up on her already? He’d only been gone for about twenty minutes. “Fine,” she said in a clipped voice.

“Good.”

“Did you come back hoping I’d given up?” she asked, certain that he’d done exactly that.

“Star,” Dan said again.

“That’s right, honey, star,” she said, hoping Jared would notice the instant rapport she had with the child, the ease with which she dealt with him. “Well?” she asked Jared in a low tone.

He was looking at her strangely. Or so she thought. “What are you doing there, Dan?” he asked.

“He’s looking at my earring,” Melanie told him. “We just read a book and talked about the stars in it and now he’s telling me that my earring looks like a star.” She looked at Jared steadily. “Everything is under control.”

He frowned. “You’re not wearing an earring.”

“What do you mean I’m not wearing an earring? Yes, I am. Right here.” She lifted her hand to her ear and felt for it.

It was gone.

She looked at Dan, just as he raised his pinched finger and thumb to his mouth. The diamond caught the light for an instant and flashed.

“Oh, my God, Dan, no,” she said, panicked.

Unfortunately, the child also panicked at the tone of her voice and he jerked his hand into his mouth.

Melanie saw it just as it went in. “No!”

The child began to cry.

The blood drained into Melanie’s toes. “Dan, honey.” She tried to sound calm but she could clearly hear the mounting hysteria in her voice. “Let me have that back. Open your mouth, honey.”

The baby stopped wailing and poked his lip out, still sniffling softly.