Sandra Steffen - Life Happens

“Not that fond. Any idea how long Eleanor plans to stay with you?”

He called Elle by her full name. Not five minutes ago, Elle had referred to him as Minute Man, and Mya was pretty sure he’d overheard. Either he didn’t mind, or he wasn’t letting on. It was hard to tell with him.

Mya’s mind was spinning. Claire and Suzette were two of the best friends Mya could ask for. Both had come over as soon as she’d called to tell them her daughter was here. Keeping the conversation lively, Suzette had gone off on one of her favorite tangents, insisting there was a reason all this was happening in Mya’s life at precisely this time. Evidently, it all had to do with Mercury conjoining Uranus, and not one but two black holes. Or did she say Pluto was retrograde and the moon was in Taurus? Which didn’t explain anything to Mya. She didn’t even know why she was thinking about Suzette, except that Suzette had been even livelier than usual tonight, sharing a plethora of knowledge of everything trivial all evening.

“Did you know,” she’d asked Jeffrey, “that rubber bands last longer when refrigerated?”

While poor Jeff was still struggling to find the relevance in that fascinating information, Elle had reached into her pocket and brought out a rubber band she’d found on the floor. Handing it to Suzette, she’d said, “Better put this in the fridge so we’re prepared for the imminent shortage.”

Suzette wasn’t amused, but Claire, Millicent and Mya couldn’t help laughing. Jeffrey had looked at them as if they’d lost their minds. Maybe they had. Or maybe the moon really was responsible.

“Mya?”

What? she thought, feeling irritable suddenly.

Oh. His question. “I get the feeling Elle isn’t planning to stay in Maine for long,” she said. “I’m surprised she accepted my invitation at all.”

Jeff squeezed her hand. Although she knew he would have preferred a different scenario for his night off, he’d been a good sport, all things considered. He really was a nice guy. Loneliness twisted and turned inside her. There was no reason for this. The man who wanted to marry her was standing right here. Closing her eyes, she felt guilty and selfish, two of her least favorite emotions.

“Tired?” Jeff asked.

“I guess.”

“It’s been a rough few days. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. Instead of leaving, he transferred the contents of his right hand to hers. “My contribution to the cause.”

Mya found herself staring at more rubber bands, and surprised herself by laughing. Watching him walk away, she thought that maybe, just maybe, everything would be all right.

The moment Mya stepped inside, three generations of Donahue females stared at her. Millicent was perched in the rocking chair, Kaylie on her lap. Elle sat cross-legged on the floor where she’d been trying to coax the white cat out of hiding.

Hanging up her jacket, Mya asked, “Any luck?”

Elle shrugged in a manner Mya was coming to recognize. “This cat’s come the farthest. The other two haven’t ventured out from under your bed since Kaylie discovered their tails before lunch. The Minute Man looked a little put out.”

Mya didn’t waste her breath telling Elle that all three cats had names, and so did Jeffrey. “He was just surprised, that’s all.”

The rocking chair creaked as Millicent offered Kaylie her bottle. “You’re going to have to do a little pampering to keep him happy, Mya, if you know what I mean.”

“There are greater tragedies than going without sex, Mom.”

“For God’s sakes, don’t let him hear you say that,” her mother said without looking up.

“Don’t you know anything about men?” Elle asked.

It was so nice to see that her mother and daughter had bonded.

Everyone was relieved that Kaylie didn’t have an ear infection. Unfortunately, she was still fussy. Mya felt a little like chewing glass, herself.

“There, there, sweet thing.” Millicent patted the baby’s back as she rose.

“She’s not deaf, Mom.”

“Now you’re an expert?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Here. You take her.”

Before Mya could protest, her mother dumped the baby into her arms. Mya had no choice but to hold her.

“Relax,” her mother said. “You’re stiff as a board. Babies are like dogs. They sense when you’re nervous.”

Mya glanced at Elle. “You don’t mind that comparison?”

Shrugging, Elle said, “It looks like Kaylie thinks you’re doing okay.”

Miraculously, it was true. Pink cheeked, her eyelashes matted from her tears, the baby stared solemnly up at Mya as if trying to figure out something important. But she didn’t look particularly worried. Mya was nervous enough for both of them. “You know, kid,” she said, “you’re heavier than you look.”

“How much did she weigh at birth?” Millicent asked.

“Six-and-a-half pounds. It seemed like a lot at the time. How much did I weigh?”

Millicent looked to Mya to answer.

In a quiet voice, Mya said, “You weighed six pounds, fourteen ounces.” There was absolutely no reason for her throat to close up, and yet it did.

The room was silent. While everyone was trying to decide where to look, Kaylie figured out what it was she’d been pondering, and tried to stick her finger up Mya’s nose.

She was quick. But Mya was quicker.

“Good dodge,” Elle said. “She’s had a thing for noses lately.”

“When Mya was two, I had to take her to the emergency room because she put a button up her nose,” Millicent said, very matter-of-fact. “I guess it’s not surprising she’s marrying a doctor. Isn’t he as close to perfect as a man can get?”

Mya’s diamond ring glinted beneath the lamplight. Another brittle silence ensued while she told herself there was nothing wrong with her diamond ring or with Jeffrey. Maybe that was the problem. Or maybe the flaw lay within her. Struggling with her uncertainty, she began to walk slowly around the room, the way she’d seen her mother do earlier. With a sigh, the baby rested her head on Mya’s shoulder.

“Kaylie resembles you, Elle,” Millicent said.

“Except for her eyes,” Elle said. “They’re blue like her father’s.”

Mya found her mother watching her. Something powerful passed between their gazes. Elle’s father had blue eyes, too.

A flash of grief ripped through Mya. Part of it was guilt for depriving her mom of her only grandchild, but that was far from all of it, for her mother wasn’t the only one Mya’s decision had deprived. At the time, she’d been so certain she was doing the right thing.

“Well looky there,” Millicent said when Kaylie’s eyes fluttered. “I’ve heard it often skips a generation.” There was reverence in her mother’s voice.

“What does?” Mya asked cautiously.

“That connection. It’s instinctive. She knows you all right. You two fit.”

Mya was peering down at the baby, therefore she didn’t see Elle’s expression still and grow serious. Millicent saw it, and it brought a dull sense of foreboding. The girl was keeping secrets. And Millicent knew from experience that when girls Elle’s age kept secrets, there was usually hell to pay.

Mya knocked softly on Elle’s closed door.

A quiet “Yeah?” came from within.

Poking her head in, Mya whispered, “Is Kaylie asleep?”

Elle nodded. A dim lamp illuminated one corner of the small room. Elle had pushed the double bed against the wall. The baby slept on her tummy on the far side, a small bump beneath the blanket.

“Be prepared for my mother to arrive with a crib tomorrow. I told her to talk to you about it first. Did she?”

Elle shook her head, but didn’t seem to know where to look. And Mya found that the earlier belligerence had been easier to deal with than this reticence. She would have preferred to have this conversation later, when Elle felt more comfortable here, but Millicent was convinced that the girl was hiding something, and insisted this couldn’t wait until morning.