Come Fly With Me...

But Dan’s kiss had ignited a whole lot more than that in her. She almost couldn’t sleep last night when they’d parted. It was amazing how long you could lie staring up at the ceiling while your brain was on a spin cycle.

She looked around the room. A pair of his boots were on the floor, along with a pair of jeans slung across a chair. She could almost still see the shape of his body in those jeans. And it sent another lot of little pulses skittering across her skin.

Dan had decided to do the night shift last night. She was almost sure another two slices of her chocolate cake had been the appropriate bribe for him to spend the night on his lumpy sofa.

Abraham. He appeared in her thoughts like a flash and she sat upright in bed.

She hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t heard him at all.

A chill spread across her body instantly, reaching straight down into the pit of her stomach. Sending its icy tendrils around her heart.

No. Surely not.

She was up and out of the bedroom before her feet even felt as if they’d touched the wooden floor. Her steps across the floor the quickest she’d ever moved. Her breath caught in her throat and she leaned over the crib.

Empty. It was empty.

She spun around. ‘Dan—’ And stopped dead.

Dan was upright on the sofa, fast asleep with Abraham tucked against his shoulder. She’d obviously missed quite a bit last night. Why hadn’t he woken her up? More importantly, why hadn’t she heard?

In her haste across the room she hadn’t even looked over at his slumped frame. She’d been so focused on Abraham. So focused on the baby.

Dan’s eyes flickered open and he lifted his hand covered in the cast to rub his sleep-ridden eyes. ‘Wake my baby and I’ll kill you,’ he growled, echoing her words from the day before.

‘I’m sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I just woke up and realised I hadn’t heard him all night. I thought something was wrong. Then he wasn’t in the crib and I—’ She stopped to draw breath, conscious of the look on Dan’s face. ‘What? What is it?’

The coldness of the wooden floor was starting to seep through her toes and up her legs, making goosebumps erupt on her skin—her woefully exposed skin.

‘Oh!’ She lifted her arms across her breasts. Some body reactions weren’t for public view.

Dan had been right about her other nightwear. Her tiny satin nightie covered her bum and not much more. Last night she’d been wearing her dressing gown—her eternal protection—and hadn’t removed it until she’d climbed into bed. The power had come back on and the temperature in the apartment was warmer than usual, both having agreed that due to the lack of appropriate clothing for Abraham they needed to raise the temperature slightly. So she couldn’t have bundled up in her usual fleece pyjamas—not without melting completely—and Dan would never see her in her nightie anyway, would he? Until now.

The cold floor had the ultimate effect on her body. Her nipples were firmly pressed into the sides of her arms across her chest. They had obviously been the feature that had caught his attention.

‘Give me a second,’ she blurted as she made a run for the bedroom and the sanctity of her dressing gown. Too late she realised how much her slight nightie must have flapped around her behind, leaving little to the imagination.

She emerged a few minutes later, trying not to look completely flustered.

‘I’ll make breakfast this morning,’ she said brightly. ‘It was American yesterday—you made pancakes. So I think it will be tea, toast and marmalade this morning.’

Dan couldn’t wipe the smile off his face, even though she was trying desperately to change the earlier subject. He shook his head. ‘I sense distraction techniques, Carrie McKenzie. But since I’m a gentleman with an empty stomach I’ll let it go. As for toast and marmalade? No, you don’t. You sabotaged the pancakes with your butter and jam. And don’t even think about making me tea after the night I’ve had. I need coffee. With at least three shots.’

Guilt surged through her and she sat down next to him. She was safe now; she was completely covered. ‘Was Abraham really bad last night? I’m so sorry. I never heard a thing.’

‘I noticed.’ He shook his head and gave her a weary smile. ‘If I’d needed you, Carrie, I would have woken you up. But it was fine.’ He paused. ‘Well, actually, it wasn’t fine, but I closed the door so you wouldn’t hear. I figured this was hard enough for you and a night with no sleep wouldn’t help.’

She was stunned.

It was no secret she hadn’t managed to hide things from Dan. He’d already asked her on more than one occasion what was wrong and she hadn’t responded. Because she didn’t feel ready to.

It had only been a few days. And she didn’t know him that well—not really. But Dan had taken actions last night to make sure she had some respite. He was reading her better than she could have ever thought. Was it the cop instincts? Did he just know when to push and when to back off?

Did they even teach things like that in cop school? Or was he just good at reading her? At sensing when things were tough and she needed to step back. She wasn’t ready to share. Or was she?

Her friends back home all knew about the stillbirth. And they either tiptoed around her or tried to make her talk. Neither way worked for her.

She needed to talk when she was ready. Not when they were ready.

Maybe it would be easier to share with someone from outside her circle of friends. Someone who could be impartial and not try to hit her with a whole host of advice about what to do and how she should feel.

Dan was the first guy to cause her stomach to flutter in a whole year. She’d thought that part of her had died. And nothing would cause it to wake up again. But the close proximity was definitely a factor. How much of a risk would it be to tell him, to trust him?

Looking at the snow outside, they could be here for at least another whole day. The flickering TV in the corner of the room still had the yellow strip running across the news report, telling about more snowfall and more people cut off from their family and friends. ‘I see there’s going to be more snow.’ She nodded at the TV.

He sighed. ‘Yeah.’ He shrugged his shoulders as his eyes met hers. ‘Seems like we’re not going anywhere fast.’

‘At least the electric shower will be working. And the kettle and hob. I’ll be able to sterilise things and make some more bottles for Abraham.’ The practical things. The things that always came into her brain first.

But there was something else there. Something else drumming away inside her head.

They were stuck here. For at least another day.

Another day with delectable Dan.

Another day with a baby. Could she cope? Could she do this again?

It was as if something happened inside. A little flare sparked inside her brain. This was it. This was her chance.

If only she had the courage.

She held out her hands towards Abraham. Would Dan notice they were trembling? ‘May I?’

He nodded and handed over the half-sleeping babe to her. Abraham didn’t seem to mind who was holding him. He snuggled instantly into her shoulder, obviously preferring the upright position.

There was a loud splurging noise, closely followed by a smell creeping around the apartment. Carrie wrinkled her nose. ‘Oh, Abraham. How could you?’

Her hand felt along his back and came into contact with a little splurge at the side of the nappy and halfway up his back. She let out a sigh and set him down in the crib.

‘I guess it’s going to be a bath for you, little sir.’

‘How are we going to manage that? We don’t have a baby bath.’

Carrie walked over to the deep kitchen sink. ‘We’ll improvise. This is the best we’ve got. Don’t you remember ever getting bathed in the kitchen sink as a child?’

He shook his head. ‘Can’t say that I do. Is it an English tradition?’

Carrie had started to scrub the sink within an inch of her life. ‘I guess it must be, then. My gran’s got some pictures of me sitting bare naked in her kitchen sink. I thought everyone did that.’

She filled the sink with some tepid water and baby bubble bath before testing the temperature. She stripped Abraham’s clothes and put them in a bucket of cold water to soak. Dan wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m going to wash these? Really? Wouldn’t it be better just putting them in the garbage?’

Carrie shook her head. ‘We don’t have that luxury, Dan. We only have a few things that fit him. They’ll just need to be soaked and then boil washed.’

Dan lifted the bucket and headed down to the laundry. ‘Be back in five,’ he said.

Carrie lifted Abraham from the towel he was squirming on. ‘Let’s see if we can get this all off you,’ she said as she gently lowered him into the warm water.

The expression on his face was priceless. First he squirmed. Then he let out a little yelp of dismay. It only lasted for a few seconds before the shock of being cold disappeared and his little body picked up the surrounding warm water. He gave a little shudder. Then started to kick his legs.

She smiled. His first baby bath.

Her first baby bath. And it was just the two of them.

There was something about it that was so nice. She knew this should be a moment that he shared with his mother. But it was almost as if this were meant to be. She watched as his little legs stretched out and kicked in the water in the sink. She lapped the water over his stomach and chest. He let out a range of little noises. If she didn’t know better she could imagine he was almost smiling.

Some babies screamed when they hit the bathwater, hating being stripped of their warm cocoonlike clothes. But not Abraham. He seemed to relish it, enjoying kicking his legs in the water.

She lifted some cotton wool balls, being careful to make sure he was entirely clean. Turning his position slightly, so she could make sure there was nothing left on his back.

That was when it happened.

That was when he gave a little judder.

She knew instinctively something was wrong. She turned him over, her hands struggling to hold his slippery body as she panicked. He was pale. Deathly pale. Almost as if he was holding his breath.

No. No!

She let out a scream. She couldn’t help it. The whole world had just started to close in all around her. She grabbed him beneath the arms and thrust the dripping baby into Dan’s arms as he strode back through the door.

‘Carrie, what’s wrong?’

She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t breathe. Her feet carried her outside the apartment door and out onto the steps. The cold snow-covered steps where she’d found him. As soon as she reached the cold air it was as if her legs gave way and she collapsed down onto the steps, struggling to catch her breath.

There were tiny little black spots around her vision. She put her head between her legs and told herself to breathe slowly. But nothing could stop the clamouring in her chest.

That sight. That pale little body. That still little chest. It had been too much for her. That momentary second of panic had made her head spin. No one should have to go through that twice in their life.

No one was meant to experience that again.

Breathe. In through her nose, out through her mouth. And again. Breathe. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

She tried to get control. Her senses were picking up something else. A noise. A background noise. A baby crying.

Then she started to sob. Uncontrollably sob. Abraham was fine. She knew that. She’d panicked. If she’d stopped to think—even for a moment—she would have realised he’d only been holding his breath for a second. But she couldn’t. She didn’t possess those rational kinds of thoughts any more. And she doubted she ever would.

Then she felt it, a hand creeping around her shoulders and a body sitting on the step next to her. The heat of another body touching hers. The comfort of an arm around her shoulders and the feeling of somewhere she could lay her head.

But he didn’t speak. Dan just held her. She didn’t know how long passed. She didn’t know how long she sobbed. All she knew was his arms were around her and he was holding her—as if he would never let go.

His hand was stroking her hair. It was bitter cold out here, but neither of them seemed to notice. ‘Tell me, Carrie,’ he whispered. ‘Tell me how to help you.’

‘You can’t, Dan.’ It was a relief to say the words out loud. ‘I panicked. I thought Abraham had stopped breathing.’

‘He’s fine, Carrie. Abraham is absolutely fine.’ His voice washed over her, like a calm, soothing tonic. He lifted her chin towards his face. ‘But you’re not.’ His finger traced the track of tears down her cheek. ‘You’re not fine, Carrie. Tell me why not.’

It was time. It was time to tell the truth. ‘Why do you struggle with babies?’

The million-dollar question.

‘Because I had one.’

She heard his intake of breath, but to his credit he never reacted the way she expected. There was a few moments’ silence while he obviously contemplated her news. ‘When did you have one?’ His voice was low, comforting. The question wasn’t intrusive. He made it feel like an everyday conversation.

‘Last year.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yes, oh.’ A shiver danced along her spine. Was it a reaction to the cold? Or was it a reaction to saying those words out loud?

Dan stood up and pulled her along with him. ‘Let’s do this inside. Let’s do this inside with Abraham.’

Even now he didn’t want to leave the baby on his own. Dan was being a good parent. It made this seem so much easier.

Abraham was wrapped in a towel, his bare toes kicking at the air above. As Dan closed the door behind them, shutting out the cold winter air, she knew what she had to do. She knew what would help her through this.

She picked up the kicking bundle and held him close to her chest, taking some deep breaths in and out.

She couldn’t think of a single reason why this made her feel better. The thought of holding another baby in her arms had terrified her for so long. But the past few days had been cathartic.

Never, in a million years, would she have thought that holding another baby in her arms while she talked about the one she had lost would feel okay. Would actually feel quite right. If she’d ever planned to share, it would never have been like this.

‘It wasn’t too long ago.’ Her words were firmer than she expected. She’d always thought that she’d never be able to get them out.

Maybe it was because she was with Dan. Maybe it was because he was literally a captive audience with no place to go. Maybe it was because she knew he couldn’t run out on her if he didn’t like what he heard. Maybe it was because she was beginning to feel as if she could tell this guy anything.

‘Fifteenth of May last year, I had a little girl. Ruby. She was stillborn.’

There was silence.

It seemed important. Even though she hated the word stillborn it seemed important to her to tell him what had happened to her baby. She didn’t want him to think she’d given her baby up for adoption, or done the same as Abraham’s mother and abandoned her.

What was he thinking? And then a warm hand crept up and covered hers, squeezing gently. ‘I’m sorry you lost your daughter, Carrie. That must have been a terrible time for you.’

The quiet acknowledgement made tears spring to her eyes. ‘Thank you, Dan,’ she whispered.

For Ruby. He was expressing his sorrow for the loss of her daughter. For Ruby. Some people didn’t like to acknowledge a baby who had been lost. Some people didn’t even want to say their names. It was easier to pretend they’d never existed. After all, babies who had never drawn breath in this world, they practically hadn’t been here.

Except Ruby had been here.

She’d kicked under her mother’s expanding stomach for seven months. She’d twisted and turned in the middle of the night, constantly having dancing competitions that kept her mother awake into the small hours. Sometimes a little foot or hand had been clearly visible as Carrie had lain watching her belly.

Ruby McKenzie had definitely existed. And it was so nice to finally talk about her. Talk about her in a normal way instead of in hushed, quiet tones.

‘Is that what’s in the silver box upstairs?’

Now he had surprised her. ‘How do you know about the box?’

‘I saw it sitting on your bed when we were in your apartment. I saw the way you looked at it.’ He gave her a little smile. ‘It’s pretty. And it seemed important.’ His finger traced along the knuckles of her hand, small circular motions. ‘Your place. You didn’t have pictures up. For a woman, that struck me as strange. I figured you had a good reason and didn’t want to ask.’

A tear slid down her cheek. ‘I’m trying to get away from memories. That’s why I’m in New York. It seemed like a good time to get away. Everything and everyone back home just reminded me of last year. It made sense. Coming here, getting away from it all.’

Dan traced his finger from her hand to her breastbone. His voice was intense. ‘You can’t get away from what’s in here, Carrie. It stays with you all the time—no matter where you go.’

Wow. Her breath caught in her throat.

It was the way he said the words. The understanding. How could Dan be so in tune with things? There was an intensity she hadn’t seen before. A darkening of his brown eyes from caramel tones to deep chocolate colours.

He knew. He understood her straight away, and she didn’t know why.

‘I know that. But sometimes what’s in here feels easier if you’ve got room to deal with it yourself.’ Easier than everyone clamouring around you, suffocating you with their grief.

‘And has it been? Has it been easier, Carrie?’

‘I thought it was. I thought I was coming to terms with things.’ Her eyes went down to Abraham. ‘Until now. Until him.’ She could hear the waver in her voice, feel the tremble in her throat. She desperately wanted to keep it together. She wanted to put her thoughts, feelings and frustrations into words—in a way she’d never managed before.

But Dan’s reaction was flooring her. She couldn’t have asked for more.

Dan shook his head. ‘No wonder you didn’t want to help out. No wonder you tried to make excuses.’ His eyes were still heavy with weariness and she could see the lines on his face. He was fighting fatigue with every bone in his body.

He turned around on the sofa so he was facing her entirely. ‘I’m sorry, Carrie. I had no idea how hard this was for you. But I really needed your help. I couldn’t do this on my own. I don’t know the first thing about babies.’

The gentle tears were still flowing. ‘And neither do I, Dan. I never got the chance to find out. And I’m so worried I’ll do something wrong. What if I caused Ruby to be stillborn? What if it was something I did? Something I ate? I’m not sure I should be around babies. I’m terrified that I’ll do something wrong. What if he’s sick and I don’t know it? What if the jaundice gets worse instead of better?’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve already held one dead baby in my arms. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Abraham.’

Panic was welling up inside her and threatening to take over.

Some things were still too much for her. Still too raw.

Dan put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Don’t, Carrie. Don’t do this to yourself. We’ve spoken to Shana. You heard what she said. As soon as possible, she’ll arrange to examine Abraham and make sure everything is fine. Nothing happened today when you bathed him. Abraham must have just held his breath. As soon as you handed him to me, it was almost as if he let out a little squawk. It was nothing you did, Carrie. Nothing at all. As for doing something wrong—I’m more likely to do that than you. You’re a natural. Everything you do is right. No matter how hard you’re finding this, you still make a much better parent than I do. I couldn’t even get a diaper on straight!’ He pressed his fingers into the tops of her arms. ‘I don’t know what happened to Ruby, but I don’t believe for a second it was your fault. Did they ever tell you? What did the medical examiner say?’

Carrie took a deep breath. ‘Nothing. They found nothing. Although she was early Ruby was the right size and weight. There was nothing wrong with my placenta. There was nothing wrong with the umbilical cord. I hadn’t been in an accident. I didn’t have any infections. My blood pressure was fine. They couldn’t give me a single reason why Ruby stopped moving that day. She was perfect. She was perfect in every way.’

Her voice was cracking now. Her head was filling with pictures of that room. The expression on the radiographer’s face as she swept Carrie’s abdomen, trying to find a heartbeat with no success. The quiet way she had spoken, mentioning she needed to look for a colleague before disappearing out of the door.

And Carrie, sitting in the semi-dark room, knowing, just knowing, that life was about to change in an unimaginable way. Placing her hands on her stomach, ignoring the gel, and just talking to her baby. Telling her that Mummy loved her. Forever and ever.

Ruby’s name had been picked weeks before. The hand-painted letters already adorned the door of the room in their flat that had been dedicated as the nursery. The nursery that Ruby would never see—never live in.

She could see the empathy on Dan’s face. He understood. He understood the pure frustration of having no reason, no answer to the worst thing that could happen to her.

He lifted his heavy eyelids with caution. ‘What about Ruby’s dad?’

‘What about Ruby’s dad?’ She shook her head. A small bit of guilt still weighed on her soul. ‘Mark was a good guy. But neither of us could cope with what happened. Things just fell apart. He got another job and moved away. He’s met someone now. And I’m happy for him. We just couldn’t stay together—it was far too hard. Like having a permanent reminder etched on your brain.’

‘Seems to me that Ruby will be permanently etched on your brain anyhow. Whether you’re with Mark or not.’

She stared at him. That was blunt and to the point. And for the first time Dan had a deep crease across his forehead. A crease she wanted to reach up and smooth away with her fingers.

She was feeling it. This connection to Dan. Just as he was feeling it, too.

Mark was a chapter of her life that was over. And although she thought about Ruby frequently, she barely ever thought about Mark.

Dan’s last remark seemed almost protective, and a tiny bit territorial. And the strangest thing was she didn’t mind. Why had she been so scared to talk about this?

It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t comfortable at all. But Dan seemed to understand more than she would have expected him to.

And Dan was everything Mark wasn’t. Mark couldn’t bear to be around her once she’d lost Ruby. It was too hard. Too hard for them both. But Dan was nothing like that. She couldn’t imagine Mark in this situation. Looking after an abandoned baby. Mark would have wanted nothing to do with that at all. But Dan had taken it all in his stride. A totally different kind of man.

And timing was everything. If New York hadn’t been hit by this freak snowstorm she and Dan might never have talked. Might never have got to know each other and started to show these little glimmers of trust.

She sagged back on the sofa as Abraham let out a little sigh, his warm breath against her neck. ‘I don’t ever want to forget my daughter, Daniel. I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t ever want to. I have things in the box, her first scan, her scan at twenty weeks. A few little things that I’d bought for her that she never got to wear.’ She stared off into the distance. ‘I had to buy something new. Something for very premature babies to put on her. And some photos. I have some photos. But—’

She broke off, unable to finish. The photographs were just too painful.

His hand was wrapped back around hers again. ‘So, how do you feel about helping me with Abraham? I know it’s hard for you, Carrie. But I really need your help.’ His words were said with caution, as if he didn’t want to cause her any more pain.