"Everything all right?" Colleen asked.
"Of course," Dana said.
"I'm sorry about before… about frightening you."
"Forget it. Tell Harlan to bring me another glass of milk and another piece of steak, okay?" she said in a much friendlier tone of voice.
"Sure."
"You're kidding," Harlan said when she told him. "Lucky we didn't bring home twins. My food bill would go sky-high," he added. Then he stopped what he was doing and thought for a moment. She looked up in anticipation. "It's funny," he said, "but when I think of our baby, I mean our own baby, and then I think of Nikos, it's like they were twins." He paused and stared ahead for a moment and then shook his head. "Just a lucky coincidence." He turned to Colleen as if just remembering she was also there. "Right?"
"Yes," she said, but she couldn't get herself to feel that it was lucky, and she felt terrible about that. She knew all about sibling rivalry and why she had these anxious feelings about the child, but she honestly didn't resent the baby. There was something else.
She was so sure that had been a drop of blood between its lips, and the way he'd lapped it up… she shook herself quickly as a chill went through her body.
Best to forget it, she thought.
Colleen woke to the sound of loud whispering just outside her door. For a moment she thought she might have dreamed it. She listened again and heard it again—two distinct voices, their words hard to understand.
She looked over at her Garfield the Cat alarm clock, on her round, white-marble-topped night table, and saw that it was only two a.m. She sat up in bed and continued to listen. The voices drifted away but were still quite audible. Curious now, she got out of bed and went to her door.
The empty hallway was vaguely lit by the small night-light in the wall socket. She listened again and realized that the sounds were coming from within the guest room across the hall. Because of the streetlights on Highland Avenue, illumination spilled through the windows in that room and now cast two distinct shadows on the open door.
Why were Harlan and Dana up so late? she wondered, stepping into the hallway. Almost immediately she was greeted by a putrid odor, the scent of something rancid. The only thing she could think of that resembled it was the odor surrounding the day-old dead cat that had been splattered by an automobile on Turtle Avenue, the next street over.
She cupped her hand over her mouth and swallowed. Then she crossed the hallway quickly and went toward the open door of the guest room. Just before she reached it, she thought she heard the flutter of birds' wings. She looked in. The reeking odor was stronger.
Dana, dressed in her red nightgown but barefoot, stood by the wide-open window. Her hair was loose and brushed down so it lay softly just below her shoulders. She held the baby up, resting him against the inside of her arm, but from Colleen's perspective it looked as though the baby could hold up its head on its own. The baby was wrapped in its soft, blue wool blanket, but the top of its head protruded firmly. She knew enough about babies to know it should be a while before it was supposed to be able to do that.
"My mother's coming tomorrow," Dana told the baby. "She'll be staying in here. She wants to help me with you, but we don't need that kind of help, do we, Nikos? We don't want anyone coming between us. You don't want anyone else to hold you or bathe you, do you, Nikos? Of course not," she said, kissing the top of the baby's head. "I wish she would just make her usual week's visit and leave."
Colleen could have sworn that the baby turned its head to look behind Dana at her as soon as Dana finished speaking. The action caught Dana's attention, and she spun around to confront Colleen in the bedroom doorway.
"What are you doing?" she asked sharply.
"Nothing. I heard you out." She looked around the bedroom. "I thought Harlan was in here too."
"Are you spying on us?" Dana asked.
"What?"
Dana closed the window with her free hand and then walked toward Colleen. She snapped on the overhead light fixture and the room exploded in a hot, overwhelming brightness that made Colleen shade her eyes and squint.
Dana stood before her, and the baby was able to look directly at Colleen. She couldn't believe how alert it seemed for a baby less than a week old. It stared at her with a fixed glare, its eyes catching the illumination from the overhead light in such a way that it was as if it absorbed and fed on the brightness. Its face was flushed, so that even its lips looked pale in comparison to the rest of its complexion.
Colleen stepped back from the doorway and looked to her right, hoping that Harlan would awaken.
"That isn't very nice, Colleen. You don't peek into rooms and listen to other people's conversations."
"That's not what I'm doing, Dana. I heard you and I didn't know what was wrong."
"Nothing's wrong. Nikos is awake, so I am attending to him. You can go to sleep."
"What's that odor? It's terrible," she added, putting her hand over her mouth and nose.
"Probably just a skunk next to the house. I opened the window to air it out. It's dissipating."
"Ugh," Colleen said. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Absolutely not. There's nothing to do. Go back to sleep."
"Okay. 'Night," Colleen said. She paused a moment, then retreated to her bedroom. She closed the door softly, grateful that the horrible aroma hadn't penetrated her room. She returned to her bed, but after she crawled under the covers and lowered her head to the pillow, she vividly relived the way the baby had been glaring at her. It looked like it was really thinking, and she knew there was no way a baby really could be thinking.
She shuddered and tried to think of other things. She heard Dana go downstairs with Nikos, and then all was quiet once more. Sometime before dawn, she woke again to the sound of Dana returning Nikos to his room.
She listened for a few moments, and then she fell asleep and had to be woken by her alarm, something that rarely happened. Usually she woke up just before it went off, but this morning she felt exhausted, not only from being woken a couple of times but also from the nightmares that followed. She was happy she couldn't remember them.
Thankfully the odor was gone from the hallway. Harlan joined her in the kitchen for breakfast. He was up early because he had to go to the airport to pick up Dana's mother, but he was so bright and rested, Colleen had to ask him if he had heard Dana get up to go to the baby late at night.
"You know, I didn't," he said as if just realizing it. "I never even heard the baby cry. Dana slipped out of that bed so softly, I never knew she went to feed him. And I never heard her come back. I guess I didn't realize how tired I was. Dead to the world. But there's nothing unusual about that," he added. "What was it Sir Philip Sidney wrote? 'Come sleep! Oh sleep, the certain knot of peace, the baiting place of wit, the—' "
"She was up all night," Colleen said, interrupting. He stopped his recitation and looked at her. "I heard her in the guest room and spoke with her. There was this terrible odor she said must be a skunk near the house. She was airing out the room. We spoke for a while and then I went back to sleep. She went downstairs. I heard her come back upstairs just before dawn."
"Really? Couldn't get the baby back to sleep, I guess. Well," Harlan said. "That explains why she and the baby are dead to the world. It's exhausting. I'll be glad when Jillian arrives today."
Colleen wondered if she should mention what she had overheard Dana say about Jillian to the baby the night before, but since Dana had accused her of eavesdropping, she thought she would just forget it, even though it was hard to understand why Dana would suddenly resent her. Jillian was never interfering, and Dana was always after her mother to visit and always looked forward to visiting her.
Were these postdelivery blues supposed to have such a dramatic effect on a woman's relationships? When would it end? Colleen could see that it was going to be a great deal harder to get along with Dana while this condition existed. She thought it was probably better for her to find ways to avoid her sister-in-law for a while.
"Jillian will be here by the time you get back from school today," Harlan said.
"I won't be back until after dinner today, Harlan. Today's the big game with Liberty, and afterward, hopefully, I'll be celebrating with Teddy. We're going to the Beast Burger in Middletown. Everyone is."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Teddy nervous?"
"Teddy? If he is, he'd never let you know it. That's why they call him Iceman."
"It's a good quality to have when you're in that kind of position. Helps you take the pressure, I'm sure. But," Harlan said, leaning over his coffee and smiling, the patches of freckles under his eyes flashing, "I'm sure you defrost him from time to time."
"Oh, Harlan." She blushed, and then she thought for a moment. "Harlan, I never asked you, but how do you really feel about the baby and all that's happened?"
"What do you mean, Colleen?"
"Well, I know what you told me about Dana and her mental and emotional condition and all, but what about yours? You're part of all this. You've gone through traumatic events too."
He nodded. "Well, I guess I really haven't given myself all that much thought. Dana was so fragile—and still is. Like I said, I think we lucked out with the turn of events, but of course, I can't help thinking about that little tyke who died in the delivery room."
Colleen was fascinated by this. She couldn't help wondering about their own baby herself.
"Did it really look like Nikos?"
"He had carrot-colored hair but he was smaller. I didn't permit myself to look at him all that closely, Colleen. It was too painful, after we realized…"
"Yeah, I bet. But how did you come to this other child? You told me about the lawyer…"
"I was out in the hallway. Dr. Friedman was commiserating with me, and to tell you the truth, I was beginning to feel more sorry for him. He really took it badly, since there was no indication that there would be such problems. Anyway, a man approached us and introduced himself as the lawyer for these people. He was a very distinguished-looking man, nearly all gray-haired. The fatherly type," he added, and smiled. "Yes, I remember thinking he was very fatherly—soft-spoken but authoritative, the kind of man you feel you can trust. Apparently he was also a close friend of these people."
"Did you see the people? Were they there too?"
"No."
"What about the teenage girl?" Colleen thought about the tenth-grade girl who was in her eighth month and still attending Centerville High.
"No, I didn't see her," Harlan said. "The lawyer didn't suggest it, and I didn't see the point. I suppose in my own mind I didn't want to make any connections between Nikos and someone else. This way it was as if the baby were just there, just appeared miraculously, you know."
"Uh-huh. But you know the girl's name, right?"
"I know the family name. It was on the papers we all signed. They're Italian, I guess… Niccolo was their name."
"Niccolo?"
"Yeah."
"Is that why Dana wanted to call him Nikos? The similarity?"
"No, Dana never really knew their name. She just signed the document where I showed her to sign, and even if she had, she wouldn't have wanted to do anything to remind her of the baby's real family. It brings her such mental and emotional relief to fantasize that Nikos actually is her baby. I might be wrong for permitting her to think that way, but for now I can't see the harm. Later, perhaps, when she is stronger, we'll sit down and talk about it."
"Nikos, though… it seems like such a coincidence," Colleen said.
Harlan laughed. "She dreamed it. That's what she told me. Sort of divine inspiration." Colleen nodded. Harlan clapped his hands together and got up. He put his coffee cup in the sink. "Well, I gotta get going, even though the airplanes are rarely, if ever, on time. Can you clean up in here?"
"Of course."
"Thanks, little sister." He kissed Colleen on the cheek. "Have a good day, and wish Teddy luck for me."
"Thanks, Harlan."
She watched him leave, then cleaned up the kitchen, setting the dishes in the dishwasher and wiping down the bright yellow Formica counter and the matching dinette set. She'd always liked this kitchen. Its windows faced east, so the mornings were always bright. Sunlight streaming through the windows would light up the vibrant yellows and greens, making breakfast cheerful. Dana was very good at interior decorating and always seemed to choose colors and patterns that added life and energy to a room.
After Colleen finished in the kitchen she went upstairs to get her books. When she came out of her room, she tiptoed over to Dana's bedroom and listened. The door was closed and all was silent. She started away and then paused, curiosity drawing her back.
She went to the baby's room. The door was slightly open, so she proceeded to enter as quietly as possible. The baby was asleep this time, its eyes closed so tightly that they looked sewn shut. For a few moments she stood there staring down at it.
Colleen really hadn't looked at it all that closely before, or at least studied it enough to recognize its facial features. She knew that a baby's face changed dramatically, especially during the early months. Teddy told her that when his younger brother was born, he and his sister, Steffi, thought that Benny was half baked. Teddy said, "He didn't look like me; he didn't look like Steffi; he didn't look like anybody in the family. Now we argue who he looks like more."
Of course, Colleen knew there was no point in looking for any resemblance to Harlan or Dana in the child. The carrot-colored hair was similarity enough to make any adopted child remarkable, but there was something about the baby's expression in sleep that reminded her of Dana, especially when Dana was in deep thought and unaware of other people in the room. Both she and the baby pulled up the corners of their mouths, and both had that tightness in their chins.
Colleen was fascinated with the baby's hands. Unlike any other young baby she had seen, this baby's fingers and palms had taken full shape. The fingers were exceptionally long, the knuckles sharply defined. There was no puffiness around the baby's wrists, either. Its forearms were lean and graceful.