Lorene’s parents were in town from Washington, DC, for the holidays and this momentous event. They chatted and didn’t retire to the back porch. Soon other couples arrived, some brought their children.
Robert peeked into the kitchen where women moved to a choreographed dance, preparing food, and arranging dishes on a long table. He knew some of them must be Lorene’s friends, but one stood out, and Robert’s reaction to her surprised even himself. Barbara Taylor stood near the counter, overseeing the preparation, and directing the placement of food on the table. He stood for a moment, feeling pleased for some reason he couldn’t explain at her confidence in handling all these women. She pointed and suggested an interchange of the dishes on the table.
Barbara looked up at him, catching his gaze. She smiled a full red-lipped smile that reached her eyes. She winked at him, then turned to speak to one of the women. That wink had lit a spark somewhere in his cold body. He shook it off and ignored the sensation while admitting it was a nice feeling.
He liked Barbara. She worked in the typing pool. He made it a point of giving her anything to be typed. She returned the work in pristine condition, and his lousy words would be transformed into a credible report. Barbara seemed to be the only woman he’d even remotely thought about more than just in passing. It might have been because his eyes sought her out as he went by the typing pool door for coffee.
“Did you need something?” Barbara stopped in front of him. He realized he’d been standing in the same place with all his thoughts. The women had stopped and now looked at him with speculation. His face colored, and he stammered a denial and beat a hasty retreat to the living room.
The men swapping stories didn’t blink when he found a chair and crossed his legs to relax. He let his arm fall off the side of the chair. Small hands gripped his arm; surprised, he looked down to see Elizabeth. She stood on wobbly legs next to him and smiled a toothy grin. She lost her grip, fell backward, landing on her diapered bottom. The surprised look on her face caused him to chuckle. Her face puckered, and big tears ran from the corners of her eyes. Before the silent cry turned to a howl, he instinctively reached down, picked her up, and sat her on his knee. She stopped crying and reached her dimpled arms out to him. He froze for a moment and resisted the band of pain that encircled his heart.
Elizabeth didn’t care about his pain; she cooed and reached out for a hug. He slowly brought her to his chest and breathed the familiar smell of lotion and powder. He closed his eyes as memories of a dark-haired boy who hugged and patted his face filled his mind. After a moment, Elizabeth wiggled against him and tucked her head under his chin, her warm body cuddled against his. A great rending tore his heart and something warm spread throughout his body.
The palm of one hand held her bottom, and the other patted her back. He didn’t fight the feeling. He let it flow, tucking his cheek next to the side of her head. It had been so long. The crusty shell around his heart cracked a little. He did nothing to shore it back in place. He couldn’t repair the hard shell he’d built around his heart over the past few years.
After a few moments, Elizabeth wiggled, ready to get down. He sat her on the floor at his feet. She gurgled something at him and crawled away.
When he looked around the room, something changed; it was lighter. The sun still hid behind puffs of clouds, but he felt lighter as if a heavy burden had lifted off his shoulders. That feeling of a child’s unconditional trust wasn’t something he’d allowed in his life since he lost his wife and child. It replaced the anger that had turned him into a workaholic. How could the touch of one beautiful, little girl change all that? It was probably just a momentary lapse. Tomorrow he would be his old self.
Robert tried to blend into the background. His height allowed him to view the activities over the heads of the other guests. Once or twice, his gaze connected with Barbara. She smiled and handed him a plate as he passed by the table.
“It all looks good.” He complimented her.
“A community participation,” she answered. The women nearby gave her a push to eat with him. She declined and let him continue to make choices down the table. He hadn’t missed her flush as she pulled back from the push. So, she wasn’t immune to him either. He kept the thought to himself. She disappeared into the kitchen. He didn’t see her the rest of the afternoon.
When the party ended, and guests moved toward the front door, Robert felt a tug on his pant leg. Elizabeth pulled on him, trying to stand. She whined, tired and a bit cranky. Jake and Lorene stood at the door as their guests took their leave.
He reached down and picked Elizabeth up. Her head went to his shoulder. She nuzzled into his neck. He waited for the familiar pain; it didn’t come. Was he finally healing? Was this all it took, holding a child? Or was it just time to let go?
Jake immediately reached out, but Lorene held his arm back. Robert nodded at the two and rubbed Elizabeth’s back. Her thumb in her mouth he felt no movement. He let her slide a bit in his arms until he could see her face. Her eyelids fluttered as she tried to fight the sleep overtaking her. He continued to hold and rock her in the familiar rhythm until she fell asleep.
Lorene touched his arm. “Come, put her to bed. I don’t want to take her, in case she wakes.”
Robert followed Lorene to the bedroom she and Jake had decorated for their daughter. He’d declined when Jake asked for his help setting it up. Just remembering all the hours he and Becca had spent painting, hanging decorations, and setting up the crib felt too painful to revisit. Now standing in the baby’s room, he quickly laid the sleeping girl in her bed and covered her with the blanket.
“Are you okay, pal?” Jake whispered.
“Funny thing, I feel different. The pain I felt just looking at a baby or a child around Henry’s age isn’t there. A twinge, but not the deep, jarring pain I used to feel.”
“You’re healing. The process might have been sooner if you hadn’t cut yourself off from all your friends.” Lorene raised an eyebrow at him. “Could be time to move on with your life and see what else is out there you might be missing.” She raised both eyebrows as if there were some other insinuations. Robert returned her look with an uncomprehending frown.
The two men walked to the front door. “Robert, in the past years since Becca and Henry, and a few of our coworkers, were murdered by those thugs, you’ve been driven. In most cases, it kept your job and you alive. In other cases, you have isolated yourself from everyone who cares about you. I hope whatever happened here is a start to a new life.” He squeezed his friend’s biceps.
Robert drove home in automatic mode. Inside his small house, he hung his coat and put the bag of leftovers that Lorene sent with him in the refrigerator. Out of habit, he put his gun in the end table drawer.
With measured steps, he walked to the closet and opened the door. Pulling out a box buried at the back, he took it to the living room and sat it on the floor next to his chair. His insides clenched in anticipation, but he forced himself to relax and lift the lid. His wedding album, the baby book, and framed pictures lay before him. He sighed. The pain that always accompanied the thoughts of his family wasn’t quite as sharp as usual. Maybe it was time to move on.
He spent an hour turning pages and reliving the few short years he had with his wife and son. For a moment, he leaned back, resting his head on the chair back. He was tired of driving himself, using work as a substitute so he’d fall asleep at night. He needed his edge, but he didn’t like the solitude. It just didn’t cut it anymore. He needed his friends, the guys at the station who’d put up with him all these years.