Gail Bowen - The Nesting Dolls

“Thank you, Theo,” Noah said. Oblivious to everything but Jacob, Theo didn’t acknowledge the comment.

Noah’s eyes came back to me. “Louise is in pretty rough shape. I’m going to drive her home.” He took out his keys. “Can we trade cars? You’ll need the base for the baby seat in our car.”

I took Noah’s keys, fished mine from my bag, and handed them to him.

“I won’t be long,” he said. “Just take Jacob home with you and I’ll pick him up after I get Louise settled.”

“Zack’s got that flu,” I said. “It might be wiser if I took him to UpSlideDown. You can pick him up there when you’re ready.”

“Okay. Good,” Noah said. “Why don’t you take off now? I’ll help Louise get her coat and boots on. She’d be humiliated if you saw her drunk again.” Noah went back into the studio and I bent to take Jacob from Theo’s arms. “This little guy has to go home now,” I said.

Theo’s eyes found Myra. “No,” he said. His look was beseeching; he was seeking support, but none was forthcoming.

Myra’s took his arm. “It’s time to go inside,” she said firmly. Then her voice shifted to the wheedling tone of parents dealing with stubborn children. “We have biscotti and I’ll make you that coffee you like.”

“You always say that and then you… ” He hung his head. He had lost the words with which to argue. He handed Jacob to me meekly. “Don’t let her… ” The sentence was unfinished. I didn’t know whether the ‘her’ meant Myra or me.

I took the baby. “You’ll see him again, I promise.”

Theo released his hold on Jacob, and Myra took Theo’s arm and led him inside. Through the closed door, I could hear Theo’s sobs. Knowing I had been the source of his pain made me sick at heart. I longed to leave, but I found that I couldn’t take a step until the cries ceased. When finally the corridor grew quiet, I snapped Jacob into his car seat and pressed the button for the elevator. I was still waiting for it to arrive when Myra Brokaw came out of her apartment. For the only time since I’d met her, she was dishevelled. She had lost one of the turquoise-studded silver combs with which she held back her thick hair, and her face was blotched with anger. “Delia Margolis needn’t think she was the only one,” Myra hissed. “She was simply the first of many. My husband was always drawn to the same type: clever, pale, and Semitic.”

She slammed the door. The elevator arrived and I stepped in with Jacob’s carrier on my arm. I looked down at him. “Granted Myra was under stress,” I said. “But that was still a really shitty thing to say.” Jacob gazed at me thoughtfully.

As soon as I got Jacob snapped into his car seat, I called Zack. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” he said. “I’ve been bathed and shaved, and the sheets are clean, so I’m ready for action.”

“Really?”

“No,” he said, “But Kym – incidentally, that’s Kym with a y – assures me the pressure sore is looking marginally better.”

“Thank God,” I said.

“Agreed, so when are you coming home? I miss you.”

“One more stop,” I said. “I’ll explain when I get there. It’s been a bizarre couple of hours, but as long as you’re okay… ”

“Do what you have to do. Darryl Colby is coming over at three. If the day is inching towards the bizarre, Darryl will push it over the edge.”

“I’ll be there long before that,” I said.

As I drove over to UpSlideDown, I kept repeating the reassuring words of my yoga teacher. “All will be well,” I said. “All will be well.”

UpSlideDown was even livelier than usual. Volunteers were packing up the gifts that had been collected for the Holiday Blast at the Core Recreational Centre, and some of the young guests were reluctant to see the gifts that had been mounting under the tree with such promise suddenly disappear. There were tears and reassurances, and when Mieka passed by Jacob and me, her arms full of presents, she murmured, “Next year, remind me to do the transfer of gifts under cover of darkness.”

“Will do,” I said. “I’ll also remind you that Clare Booth Luce said, ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ ”

Mieka exhaled loudly. “You can put that one on my grave.”

“Did people donate enough gifts?”

“We’ll know later. The organizers at Core Recreational are going to call if there’s an age group that’s missing out. My plan is to hit Zack up for a fat cheque to fill the holes, and you and I can do some quick shopping. Sound okay?”

“Sure. Zack’s a generous guy.”

“How’s that flu of his?”

“We brought in a part-time nurse to help.”

Mieka’s face clouded. “Zack isn’t getting worse, is he?”

“No. The nurse is only coming in for a couple of hours a day. I just needed a little backup.”

My daughter narrowed her eyes. “You are looking a bit worn.”

“I forgot to put on makeup.”

“I have an emergency supply in the cloakroom. Let me unload these parcels; then Jacob can entertain me while you give L’Oréal a chance to work its magic.”

Mieka and Jacob were playing peek-a-boo when I came back from the cloakroom. Mieka gave me an approving nod. “Much better,” she said. “Why don’t you pour yourself a cup of coffee and enjoy the moment.”

Logic would have suggested that Nadine Perrault pay a visit to UpSlideDown as soon as she arrived in Regina. I’d given her Mieka’s business and home addresses and told her that in the days before her death Abby had spent part of every day at UpSlideDown. Still, that snowy afternoon, when Nadine came through the door, I was taken by surprise.

Her blonde hair was tucked under a black cloche, and her black scarf was knotted with the casual flair that seems to be the birthright of French women. In her grey wool pea coat, closely fitted grey slacks, and knee-high leather boots, Nadine was a figure of elegance, but elegance doesn’t cut it when the mercury is hovering at thirty below. As she gazed around UpSlideDown, she hugged herself. Clearly, she was chilled to the bone, but despite the tempting warmth of the room, when she spotted me, she turned as if to leave.

I stood. “Nadine, stay. Jacob’s here.”

Her eyes sought out the baby, and when she saw him in Mieka’s arms, she moved past the bright Christmas tree and the playing children and went straight to him.

After three weeks, Nadine was inches away from the child she loved; yet her first words were for me. “Thank you for not being angry,” she said. “I regretted my rudeness as soon as I broke the connection at the airport. Now I’m doubly sorry.”

I gestured to an empty chair at our table. “This is a terrible situation,” I said. “You and Delia have been living through the worst hours of your lives for days now. That kind of tension takes a toll.”

Nadine looked at Jacob, her face filled with longing. Mieka’s eyes found mine. I nodded, and Mieka handed the baby to Nadine. Jacob held his hands out to her and smiled.

“He likes to sit, don’t you, Jacob?” Mieka said.

At the sound of his name, the baby turned towards Mieka.

Nadine adjusted his position, so he could sit on her lap and she could look into his face. “You’re growing up,” she said, and her voice was low and gentle.

“Three weeks is a long time in a baby’s life.”

Nadine’s smile was wry. “A long time in my life too.”

Jacob watched her attentively. “I don’t know anything about child development,” Nadine said, “but Jacob seems very advanced. I guess all mothers… ” She corrected herself. “I guess everyone believes that their baby is special.”

Mieka put three bright rubber blocks that looked like bugs on the table. Jacob reached over and tried repeatedly to place one of the blocks atop another. “Jacob really is advanced,” my daughter said. “Not many children his age even attempt that.”