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The kids had run into her bedroom. She found them sitting on the bed with Trey. She sat down with them just as an ugly question settled over her. Actually, it was more of a questioning feeling than actual words. Who were they anymore? They had been ready to call it quits before getting news about Ricky. Then they’d agreed to put off any decisions. Now there was a baby in the mix—how could they make any kind of decision about anything right now?
But there were more immediate issues to deal with today. Trey did the talking, calmly and slowly telling Candice and Jake that Aunt Amanda got hurt in a car accident and went to heaven.
Jake asked a lot of questions. How did she die? Did it hurt? How come the baby is alive if Amanda died? It was just an interesting topic for him. He wasn’t old enough to really understand it all. Candice was quiet as she thought about it, and that worried Rosette. She pulled them both close and held onto them. She looked up and saw Alex standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets and tears rolling down his face.
Chapter Five
Sarah Molvik sat in her car in the hospital parking lot, wiping her nose and tears with a sweater. It was gross, but she’d been crying so much. The tissues she kept in her glove box were all gone.
It was Tuesday afternoon, two full days since the accident on Saturday night. That didn’t make any of this better. Each passing minute seemed to make it worse. It was more time to think about it.
She thought they’d be leaving with the baby soon. Unless the baby wasn’t okay. She had seen Trey and Rosette Sinclair, the brother-in-law and his wife, come and go a few times. Sarah knew their names from the news. The newspaper and local TV channel had covered Ricky Sinclair’s death. He was a huge local hero now. The biggest article had also described how Trey had served and been wounded. It’d been titled, “A Family of Sacrifice.”
More like a family of tragedy and loss. Maybe she’d write a paper on it—how life was out to take so much from them.
This morning’s paper had a new article. “Mom-To-Be Dies on Night of Husband’s Funeral.”
Sarah picked up the newspaper on her lap: “In an already tragic situation, Amanda Sinclair, pregnant with her first child, died in a one-vehicle accident on Seven Devils Road Saturday night, only hours after her husband’s funeral. Doctors confirmed the baby is alive and doing well, and is in the care of family members.”
The article went on to talk about donations for the family and how the community was grieving with the Sinclairs. Sarah could hardly stomach it, but she made herself read every word.
She looked up and gasped. Trey Sinclair was walking by her car. She watched him stride to his vehicle and get in, and then drive to the U-shaped patient pick-up area. They were taking the baby home.
She could see the nurse talking to them and Rosette leaning inside the car with the baby. The car seat must have been inside already.
Somehow it surprised her every time she saw them. Both looked much younger than she’d expected. Trey Sinclair was good looking, a tall guy with dark hair and arresting blue eyes. His wife was really pretty too.
She found herself imaging things about them and their life. Yeah, sick.
Trey sat at the wheel a minute before he pulled away. Their faces were grim. Imagine if they knew the truth.
The day before, they had both walked right by her car, and she’d almost opened her door and called to them. I have to tell you something.
She wanted to. God, how she wanted to.
~ ~ ~
It felt so strange to leave the hospital with a baby when she hadn’t been pregnant. Rosette glanced backwards at the car seat. Somewhere she had a mirror that she could hang on the back window so she could check on the baby while driving. Today, Trey was driving and she was left to think, mainly about what they’d done. She half expected someone to jump out at them in the parking lot and scream, “Hypocrites! You can’t take that baby home! You don’t have a home—you’re faking it!”
But no one stopped them, inside or out of the hospital. Even if this didn’t feel real, Amanda was gone, and they’d accepted guardianship.
The social worker had all but held their hands through the paperwork and legal matters, thank God. The question came up if Summer had any interest in adopting the baby. Faced with answering that, Rosette had glanced at Trey, afraid to answer. Summer had answered the question herself, over the phone. No, she couldn’t take a baby. She couldn’t even find a job.
It made things simpler, at least legally, that Ricky and Amanda had listed Trey and Rosette in their will and other paperwork with the Marines. Even after all the discussing, Rosette had certainly never thought any of that would come into play.
They didn’t have to name the baby to take her home, but they would need to pick a name before the birth certificate could be issued. They had answered questions and filled out endless paperwork, but Rosette wasn’t sure if this felt real yet.
With a shock, she recognized the route to Amanda’s house. She looked at Trey.
“We don’t have everything we need,” he said. There had to be more to it than that, but she didn’t want to know. He drove the rest of the way to Amanda’s duplex and got out. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
Trey steadied himself outside Amanda’s door before inserting the key. It’d been in the bag with Amanda’s purse and a few personal belongings from the wreck. This needed done, so he braced himself and opened the door. Inside, he tried to detach himself. He went to the second bedroom and found the baby supplies. There was everything Amanda would have needed in bringing home her newborn. Instead of taking it all, he found the pre-packed diaper bag. With a quick check, he saw a package of newborn diapers, wipes, washcloths, and at least one outfit. He found a few other items to add.
Next, Trey walked into Amanda’s bedroom. He checked the dresser top and nightstand first, looking for notes, a journal, or maybe a baby-naming book.
Nothing obvious. Then, he spotted a paperback on the bookshelf, pulled out and lying flat in front of the rest of the books. That was it. It was a baby name dictionary. He thumbed through, looking for highlights or any underlining. There wasn’t any, despite the worn look to the pages. She didn’t have a separate sheet with names written down or even a bookmark marking a favorite page.
He looked around a while longer and then let himself out.
Rosette looked at the bag that Trey set in the backseat, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t imagine going inside, so she could only hope he had picked up anything they would need for the next few days.
The hospital had supplied them with enough formula and tiny diapers to last at least a week. People had donated money and offered baby supplies.
They pulled into the garage and found Alex, Summer, and the kids waiting for them inside. Trey carried in the car seat and set it on the living room floor.
“Can we see?” Candice leaned over the car seat. “This is my new cousin?”
The kids had been waiting for their cousin, but now Rosette wasn’t sure what they would call her. Cousin? Sister? She didn’t answer.
Things were already confusing in their family. Candice and Jake both called Alex their “big brother,” but Rosette sometimes had to explain he was actually their uncle. No, he’s not my son. No, he’s not my stepson. He didn’t feel like her brother-in-law either. That would be Ricky.
Candice and Jake scooted on their knees, leaning close to the baby. Alex sat on the couch next to Summer. Rosette got the feeling they’d been talking and getting to know each other better. She hoped Alex would be a good influence on Summer, instead of Summer dragging him down. Not that she knew what was going on with Summer right now; ever since Amanda died, she’d been a shadow of her former self.
“Where will the baby sleep?” Jake asked, touching her tiny, soft arm. He looked like he was ready to yank his hand back if she made even a tiny movement in response.
“In our room,” Rosette said. That answer was easy enough. On second thought, with things complicated betwee
n her and Trey, it might not end up being easy after all.
The baby puckered up her mouth and then slowly opened her eyes.
“She’s awake!” Candice yelled.
Of course, that prompted the baby to open her mouth and start screaming. Rosette undid the car seat restraints and lifted the screaming bundle into her arms. She calmed down surprisingly quickly.
“Can we hold her?” Candice asked. Jake said something similar at the same time.
Trey looked edgy, but Rosette wanted the kids to feel like things were okay, and that they were a family, even with all the changes. She let Candice and then Jake have a turn holding the baby.
Jake looked down at the tiny, doll-like person on his lap, smiling because he finally got to hold her. Rosette kept her hand under the baby’s head, just in case.
“Can we name her Hope?” Jake asked, eagerly looking up to his mom’s face.
“It’s not our baby to name,” Candice cut in. A second later she looked at her mom and then her dad. “Is she? Do we get to name her? Are you her mom since Aunt Amanda is dead?”
“We’re her family now,” Rosette said, cutting her daughter off. Jake was arguing with Candice, but quietly, as he leaned close to the baby. The baby squirmed and scrunched up her face, starting to cry again. Rosette scooped up the baby from Jake’s lap.
Alex made a throat-clearing noise and said. “She does need a name.”
“So we won’t call her Jane?” Candice asked. She must have heard it from Summer. No one else had used that name or even mentioned it.
“Why don’t you guys clear out?” Trey said, standing. “Your mom and I need some quiet time.”
The kids threw pouty looks before they left. Even Alex and Summer followed them out. Rosette didn’t want quiet. She wanted them all together, but Trey was in a sour mood. She held the baby close, hoping she wouldn’t pick up the tension in the family.
Hope.
It wasn’t a bad name at all.
When the kids were gone, Trey flew out the front door, leaving too. I just need a couple minutes. Just a couple minutes.
Rosette was left standing in the middle of the room, staring after him.
Why did he tell the kids to leave if he wasn’t staying? But that’s what he always did. There were long periods in their marriage when he was overseas, but that was his career. He was in the Navy when she’d married him, after all. Still, he wasn’t there for her when she’d had so many problems in her first pregnancy, or in her second, or when she’d miscarried her third pregnancy. That third pregnancy had been a surprise. When she’d had the miscarriage, he said, “That takes care of that.” He didn’t even stay home from work that day. He just didn’t have a clue how hard it was on her. And of course she’d responded in her typical way—flawed, too, because she’d shut down and built a wall to protect herself. She could see that now, but she still couldn’t do anything about it. There was just too much anger gluing all those bricks together.
He was home sometimes, but he wasn’t there emotionally, especially after he was injured.
They’d fought in their early days, but it was so much different. She’d get mad at him and untune his guitar by loosening the strings. Stupid little things like that. She would want her way about something—going to Portland for a trip instead of Eastern Oregon, or a getting an Outback station wagon instead of that black Toyota he’d wanted to buy.
She looked down at the baby—at Hope. She was puckering her mouth in her sleep like she was nursing.
Oh, why did Amanda have to die?
Chapter Six
The baby cried for an hour straight that evening, and there wasn’t anything Trey could do about it. He’d rocked her, Rosette had held her, Summer had sung to her, and Alex even had tried. This wasn’t a happy homecoming for Hope. Candice and Jake were cranky and acting up, and who could blame them? Everything felt off.
The entire situation wasn’t what anyone would dream about for bringing a new baby home, come to think of it. Rosette had eventually taken the baby upstairs to calm her down, but Trey could still hear her crying. He looked into the bedroom and saw Rosette walking with the baby bundled in a blanket in her arms, rocking and singing to her. If she was at the end of her rope, she didn’t show it. But that was Rosette.
He had just asked Alex to heat up another premade dinner. For the last hour, Alex had been keeping the kids occupied at the table playing Candy Land.
He felt invisible. Strangers had brought their food. Alex was taking care of the kids, and Rosette was busy with Hope.
Wasn’t it ironic that he saved people for a job, but no one really needed him around here?
Rosette glanced toward the bedroom door and noticed him. “Hey, we need to talk.”
He stepped into the room. They’d put this talk off for a while now.
“I’m not sure how to handle this.” She kept rocking the baby, who continued to softly whimper in her state of half sleep. He simply waited so she said, “The sleeping arrangements. You have to help tonight so I can get some sleep.” She turned her body, and he followed her gaze over to the crib, changing table, and supplies. Everything was set up in here.
This wasn’t at all the talk he’d expected. “I can sleep in here and get up with her tonight.” He took another step into the room, feeling out of place, but wanting to put her at ease. Since they’d decided to separate, he had barely ventured into this room, unless she wasn’t in it. He’d been sleeping on the couch and using the downstairs bathroom.
They were separated, but no one else knew about it. They were living in the same house, raising the kids together, but there was no “them.”
She slowly nodded, looking at the bed. He knew her too well. She couldn’t sleep on the couch, or anywhere besides her own bed, very well. When they took a trip, she always took a sleeping pill to get to sleep in a strange bed.
Standing closer, he saw the dark circles under her eyes and a worry line between her eyebrows. She still looked twenty-five, but that line always came out when she got worried. Rosette had some kind of anti-aging cream hidden in her dresser that she used for it, but he pretended he didn’t know.
She was battling herself, debating whether to say anything. He hurt for her and said, “You know, we’re adults. I’ll be up and down anyway, so it’s perfectly fine if you want to sleep in here too. If it becomes a problem, I’ll pull out the sleeping pad.”
It was a long foam pad they kept under the bed. He used to have night terrors, flashbacks in his sleep, and he’d jump out of bed yelling. The soft bed had bothered his sleep too, after sleeping on a hard military bed for so long. He’d kept the pad around to sleep on when he became too restless for the bed. Rosette nodded, which might have been an agreement, but one that she wasn’t completely happy about. He couldn’t be sure. It’d gotten hard to read her lately.
Hope was quiet now.
“Do you want me to take her?” he asked.
“Maybe she’ll lie down.” Rosette gently laid Hope down in the crib. The blanket was still wrapped around her, the way Rosette had wrapped up Candice and Jake when they were tiny. She had told him babies liked it because it reminded them of being snuggled into their mother’s womb.
Hope hardly reacted to being laid down. Rosette straightened and watched her a minute, and then turned her attention to the bed. “I’m lying down too.”
He reached over to the baby monitor by the crib and switched it on. They had the speaker downstairs in the kitchen, he remembered. He leaned toward Rosette to kiss her forehead but caught himself. She was so exhausted she didn’t seem to notice.
He turned off the light and closed the door on his way out.
Rosette waited until she heard Trey go down the stairs before she released her breath and let herself cry. She wasn’t ready for this. She couldn’t handle a crying baby, two fighting kids downstairs, and a husband who didn’t want to be here. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t believe Trey did this to her.
A piercing heada
che had tapped away behind her right eye all day. Her stomach was unsettled and her body was aching like she was fighting off the flu, but she knew it was stress and lack of sleep.
She wanted a hot bath and a glass of white wine, but she was too tired to even think about getting back up.
Trey felt awkward throughout dinner with Summer there and Rosette gone, but Alex got the kids talking. That covered for Trey and Summer both being quiet. He didn’t have a read on her, either. She’d been a troublemaker, but now she was just quiet. And apparently living with them for the time being. He didn’t feel like talking to her about it any time soon, not when she looked like she was still in shock over her sister’s death, and not when he had no idea what would happen with his family.
Neither Rosette nor Hope woke up during dinner or while he bathed the kids and put them to bed. Summer slipped back out to the fifth wheel trailer parked alongside the garage, which was basically functioning as her apartment. Alex went out with his friend TJ, who had gotten his license two months ago, so they were enjoying their newfound freedom and mobility. Alex would get his license soon; he had a car ready now. Trey had helped him restore an older race car, but it was actually Alex who knew more about engines.
Trey went upstairs and entered the bedroom quietly. He undressed and slipped under the covers, feeling very much like he’d snuck into the girls’ dorm room. It wasn’t his bed anymore.