“There you are,” her mother said as she bustled up. “And there is the little one....”
Her mother’s eyes misted, and her chin quivered a little as she looked down at sleeping Cora.
“I’m nervous,” Emily admitted quietly.
“Don’t be.”
“Is it crazy to feel guilty?”
“Yes.” Her mother nudged her teasingly, blinking back her tears. “You didn’t choose this, sweetheart. Jessica chose you. Feel honored.”
Emily nodded and lifted the car seat off the base. It was a lot heavier than just the baby, but she’d always seen mothers packing around car seats with babies inside, so she thought there must be some logic to it. As they walked together over the lush, green grass, Emily looked up at the gray, overcast sky. It was somber and threatening rain, a combination that seemed appropriate today.
“How is Uncle Hank?” Emily scanned the people already there, looking for Jessica’s father. His wife had passed away a couple of years ago from breast cancer, and now he’d lost his only daughter.
“He’s over there, with Aunt Eunice.”
Emily’s gaze traveled past one of her cousins with triplet toddlers she was trying to control, to her uncle, who stood a little ways off next to an older woman who was patting his arm. He looked weak and exhausted.
“Poor Uncle Hank....” Emily sighed. She saw him look up and notice her. “He probably wants to see Cora.”
They angled their steps in Hank’s direction, the soft sod sinking under their heels. The lines of graves were straight and solemn, drawing her gaze along them. All eyes seemed to be on Emily as she passed, but aside from a few waves of greeting, they seemed to sense where she was going and let her continue on her way.
“Isn’t that Steve?” Her mother looked across the cemetery. A man was bending down to talk to a little girl. It was her cousin Steve, all right, with his too-serious air that she used to tease him about when they were younger. His wife was slender and petite, and true to form, her navy blue dress matched the three little girls. They seemed to be just arriving, as the toddler was being strapped into a stroller by her father.
Emily was silent for a long moment, watching her cousin. He was a few years older than Emily, a very conservative, straightlaced man with a picture-perfect family. Sara still looked svelte and young, despite three pregnancies, and she had that gentle mother quality about her—the kind of woman you expect could kiss a boo-boo better and halt an escaping toddler in her tracks at the same time. She stood up straight and looked in Emily’s direction, but didn’t lift a hand in any kind of hello. Emily could feel the tension zipping toward her from all the way across the cemetery.
“Go on and see Uncle Hank,” her mother said. “I’ll give my condolences to your cousin.”
Emily nodded, and her mother gave her arm a quick squeeze before heading off in the other direction on her mission to intercept. A cool breeze picked up, carrying with it the electrical scent of threatening rain, and Emily shivered. She adjusted the knit blanket a little closer around Cora and took a deep breath.
Lord, I can feel the tension already, she prayed silently. I hate this.
As she made her way across the sod, an image rose up in her mind of the handsome chief of police. Somehow, the thought of him was comforting, and on a day like this, comfort seemed to be what they all needed. Uncle Hank looked up at Emily morosely as she came up to where he stood. He gave her a small smile of hello and looked down into the car seat. He stretched out a finger to stroke one little hand, then stood up straight again.
“She looks like her mother.”
“I thought so, too....” Emily blinked back the tears that misted her eyes. “I thought you might want to see her, Uncle Hank.”
“Thanks.”
“Why don’t you come by later?” Emily asked. “You come hold her anytime you feel like it.”
He nodded slowly, then swallowed hard. “I didn’t even know...”
“Did anyone?” Emily asked.
“I don’t think so. Why didn’t she tell us?”
Emily just shook her head. That was the million-dollar question.
“Well, the little one is here, and she’ll be much loved.” The lines in the older man’s face deepened as he looked down into Cora’s tiny face. “I wish June could have seen her.”
Emily felt her eyes brim with tears at the catch in his voice. “Are you going to be all right, Uncle Hank?”
“Oh—” he took a deep breath “—I’ll keep on keeping on, I suppose.”
“Cora needs you, too, you know.”
He nodded silently. “I still can’t believe she didn’t tell me. Not even when the baby was born.”
The pain he felt was more than loss; it was betrayal. Jessica had been a loved daughter, the girl who looked nothing like either parent, and more like a fairy left by the door. She was slender and beautiful, hair bright red and eyes deepest green. Her mother had often joked that if she hadn’t given birth to her herself, she wouldn’t have believed that they’d produced her. But the past few years had been hard on the family, and relationships had got strained.
“You were a good dad, Uncle Hank,” Emily said softly.
“But was I?” He turned his grief-stricken eyes onto Emily, and she had no answer for him. Emily hadn’t seen her cousin in several years, either, a small detail that meant little to a cousin but was heartbreaking for a parent.
“Hi, Dad.”
Emily turned to see Steve approaching quickly. He passed Emily without a glance and wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. They held each other for a long moment and Emily looked away, sensing their need for some privacy. She stepped back, not wanting to intrude, but as she did so, Steve released his father and looked toward Emily.
“Hi, Em,” he said. “Good to see you.”
“You, too. I’m sorry about Jessica.”
Steve nodded and gave a sad shrug. “This is the baby?”
He bent down over the car seat in Emily’s hand and looked at the tiny infant for a long, silent moment.
“Hi,” he whispered softly. Cora stirred in her sleep.
“She looks like Jessica, doesn’t she?” Emily asked.
Steve looked up at Emily, his expression unreadable. He pushed himself back to his feet and looked up as his wife and daughters approached. Sara came straight toward Emily and bent down to look into the car seat.
“Hi, Cora,” she whispered. Sara had perfectly straight, dark hair cut in a short bob. She gave Emily a sad smile. “This must be harder on you, Emily,” she said.
Emily wasn’t entirely sure what to say.
“A newborn is a big responsibility,” Sara went on, her voice low and sympathetic. “No sleep, the expense, the change in lifestyle...”
“It’s all right.”
“Well, it is when you have a husband to support you through it all. I can’t imagine doing it alone.”
“I’m handling it.”
“It’s been, what, a week?” Sara smiled wanly. “Trust me. I’ve done this three times. This is the easy part.”
With a smooth smile, Sara turned her attention to her father-in-law, putting her arms around him and crooning out her condolences.