“Cheap shot,” Kane said when he’d gone. He moved her legs so they were over his the way he liked best, then leaned back so he could see the TV. He was really a lot sicker than he’d seemed coming into the house. When he’d picked her up, he’d felt so rough he asked her to drive. She’d had to wake him when they turned off the Pike so he could direct her to the house, and he’d had a pretty serious coughing fit just before they arrived. She kind of hoped no one would come in for a while, so he could rest some more.
But of course, that was impossible. Megan was next. “Hey,” she bounced in. “Got any more of those?” And she too took a Peroni. Poor Antonio was going to be out of them within the hour. She took in Kane’s prone figure. “Whassa matter, poor baby? You sick?” she said in a mock-concerned voice. “Or,” she reverted to her normal voice, “was it a late night last night?” And the wicked grin she gave Ellen made her blush scarlet.
“Take it easy,” Kane said, his head still back, eyes now closed.
“Sorry!” Megan said, obviously not even a little bit. “It’s so nice to meet you, Ellen. Usually he’s too ashamed of us to bring anyone home.”
“True,” Kane interjected.
Megan ignored him. “How did you meet?”
Ellen gave her a heavily edited story, then asked her about college.
The room was warm and cozy, with some antique furniture and this massive, squishy, frankly hideous sofa they were curled up on. Their beers were slowly drunk, the game went on, and Ellen began to relax.
Pictures of the family covered the wall; Ellen eventually got up to look at them. They were a striking group, all dark hair and eyes and big white American grins. Five times braces. Megan was much younger than the rest of them and had the biggest smile of all. Kane had started smoldering at the camera somewhere around fourteen. It was a little disturbing, so she turned away, and saw Cat at the door.
The topknot in her hair had slipped an inch or so, and she looked as though she’d caught Ellen and Kane at it on the couch. “Kane,” she said, then again, impatiently, though he’d barely had time to open his eyes, “Kane. Can you go get some wood and start the fire in the dining room?”
“Sure,” Kane said and immediately got up. Moving made him cough, hard.
“You still smoking, bruh?” Megan teased, but Cat answered for him. “Like a fricking teenager behind the bleachers, like everything else you do.”
Kane rolled his eyes, gave Ellen a small, sad smile, and followed Cat out.
“Come and meet the baby,” Megan said.
“Oh, I can wait. I’m sure Thea wants her privacy.”
“Nah, she’s dying to meet you,” insisted Megan, and went upstairs two at a time, as Kane had done outside, to another equally wide and well-proportioned hallway, where she knocked on a door. “Thea? You decent?” They heard a murmur from inside, and Megan went in.
The room was in the tower. Thea was sitting in an old wooden rocking chair in the curved window, with a bundle wrapped in a yellow blanket in her arms, the cool light of the day outside illuminating her.
Thea looked old; Ellen thought it before she could stop herself. She looked exhausted and drained and scared all at the same time, and it made her look older than Cat, though she was eight years younger. She turned big brown eyes, ringed with gray, to the two of them. “This is Ellen, hon,” said Megan, not as loud and bouncy now. She knelt down in front of the chair.
“Hello,” said Thea in a small voice. “I’m sorry. I’m not much for company today.”
So Megan had lied. Ellen felt herself begin to blush at her intrusion. Megan said, “Don’t be silly.”
Ellen said, “I don’t want to disturb you.”
“Oh, just let her see Benji, please, T?” begged Megan. Thea obligingly removed some of the blanket so that Ellen could just see a shock of dark hair above closed eyes, a tiny nose and mouth, and a strawberry mark going down past the baby’s ear. Ellen crouched next to Megan.
“He’s so beautiful,” she said. “He’s all Fielding.”
“Thank you.” Thea turned her head to the window. “That’s nice of you to say.” One hand came up, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth. Fat tears began falling down her cheek.
“We mean it, Thea,” Megan said, taking hold of her knee and shaking it a little. “With or without the birthmark; he’s the most beautiful baby since Jacob. Don’t tell Cat I said that.”
Thea almost smiled, but then a sharp voice came from the door. “You shouldn’t have this many people around the baby.”
It was Cat. She swept in, and Ellen and Megan scrambled back as if Thea were radioactive.
“It’s all right,” Thea said in a thick voice, but Cat had already glared at Ellen and Megan and whispered, “For God’s sake, now?” so the two women left. But at the open door Ellen heard Thea begin to cry properly, and Cat saying, “It’s gonna be okay, hon,” in a voice filled with love and compassion; a completely different voice than she’d used with anyone else. Ellen froze in the hallway.
“I’m so scared,” Thea sobbed.
“I know,” said Cat. “And I’m so proud of you. That was the hard part; now you can start again.”
