Page 6 of SEAL's Doorstep Baby
A bit of humanity, I think. I’d make a joke—a snide comment, borderline rude, that would make Emily’s lips press together to either hold in a smile or an eye roll depending on her mood.
But there’s no Emily to make a comment to. There’s just me, a motherless daughter, and a grieving brother.
I look away, sick to my stomach at my own thought.
His eyes flicker to check Maddison over, and I see determination. I almost feel sorry for the poor fool who would dare make this difficult for his niece or try to come between them.
Then I remember that reallyI’mthe fool, and I feel terrible for myself instead.
“Why didn’t the police tell me?” He asks suddenly, his eyes snapping to mine. “The officers who came, who told me she—she—about the wreck.”
“Poor paperwork? I’m sure you’ll get a call eventually by the state, but since I already had Maddison, maybe they just… didn’t do their research.”
He bristles, but I shrug. All I know is that when they called me, no one even asked about Maddie.
Glancing at Maddison and having her lock gazes with me is what finally breaks me down. She stretches her hands to me, silently requesting that I pick her up, and I think about the realization that she won’t be picked up by her mom in that way ever again. Maddie and Emily only had eleven months together before today. And now, that’s all the time they will ever have.
The thought crumbles me. As I pass Maddison to Jacob, the first time I’ve really let go of the baby since I got the call, everything hits me at once.
No longer needing to stay strong for Maddison, at least not for one minute, the last twenty-four hours hits me at once. My best friend is dead—dead! She’s not here anymore. My rock,my companion, mysister—she was everything to me. She is everything to me.
And now, she’s gone.
Maddison makes a soft noise, not quite a word, but close enough to signal her intent, and I pull myself together long enough to realize that I’m barely breathing. Hyperventilating in fact—
I can see Maddison in Jacob’s arms. They look so similar—Jacob and Emily must have looked so similar, too, and I never really noticed. I’ll never notice anything about Emily again—
Jacob’s mouth is moving. As I suck in air, too much air, I try to focus on what the hell he’s doing with his mouth.
“Okay,” he’s saying, the sound garbled but the shape of it familiar. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” I whisper. I wrap my arms tightly around myself. My breathing is a bit more even, but I can still feel how wet my face is—I must have started crying. I hadn’t even noticed.
“I know,” he agrees quietly.
Maddison’s face is starting to scrunch up; she’s upset that I’m upset.
I try to pull it together, but seeing Maddison cry just makes the floodgates open for me. I start to really lose it, and so does Maddie.
Like he has been handling babies all his life, Jacob sweeps Maddie into a hug with swift and efficient movements, placing her on his chest and whispering sweet words to her while rubbing her back.
I’ve known Jacob for a long time, and though we never spent much time together over the years, I’m pretty sure he’s never comforted a baby.
There was a reason Emily was so in awe of her brother, and it’s because no matter how dire the situation is, Jacob can always make it feel like there is a fix, a solution to be had, regardless ofeverything else. Watching him take control of difficult matters and focus solely on how to make it better is priceless.
I know that no matter how calm he appears, he has to be hurting inside even more than I am.
Realizing that I haven’t been kind or considerate of his feelings—or what he is going through—is sobering, and the realization of exactly how I have been acting leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Emily might feel like my sister. But she is Jacob’s. And no amount of bad experiences with the guy should diminish that.
I am the jerk, here.
“Jacob.”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.” I start. I don’t know exactly how I can apologize, but I will. “I’m sorry for being as much of a jerk as I have been.”
“It’s okay.”
