Heart Breaths (6 page)

I double-checked the address against the number Mrs. Mendez had written down earlier. Seemed right. I knocked softly on the door. It wasn’t so much of an apartment as a converted beach house, worn and battered from the rains and wind of winter storms. The door swung open, and Noie shrieked with happiness. “Maddie!” she ran toward me, tackling my legs in a hug. I reached down to hug her.

“Hey, Miss Noie,” I answered, smiling at her infectious excitement.

“Thanks so much for coming,” Mrs. Mendez bustled toward the door. “There’s a list of instructions and phone numbers on the kitchen table. Call me if you need anything.”

“Sure,” I responded.

Brushing a kiss on Noie’s head, she waved goodbye and left the apartment. I looked around the room. It was a homey little place, one that very much looked like it was inhabited by a little girl. There was a wall covered in artwork of scribbles and glitter and stickers, all framed. Dolls were scattered on the floor, and there was a little pink table tucked into the corner.

“You came to play with me?” she asked, bouncing.

“I came to play with you until your Daddy comes home,” I said. She squealed with delight. “First I have to go look at the letter your Grandma left me, and then we can play, okay?”

She nodded happily and toddled back toward the dolls strewn on the floor. Walking into the tidy little kitchen, I picked up the papers on the table and scanned them. It was the same kind of thing I would have written a few years before. Supper, bedtime, pajamas, songs, books… all in a very feminine handwriting.

Did Gabe even know I was there?

I’m sure he did. His mom wouldn’t just leave me alone with Noie without telling him. Taking the pan of lasagna from the fridge, I put it in the oven to warm up dinner, and walked back out to the living room. “Maddie, look,” Noie said, wanting to give me a tour of the apartment.

Wandering over with her to the art wall, I took a closer look at the pictures. Collages, heavy on the glitter hung side by side with construction paper covered in colored popsicles, all with Noie’s name labled neatly in a very masculine handwriting. The thought of Gabe sitting next to Noie at her little pink table and making arts and crafts projects with her made me smile. You could see his love for her everywhere you looked in the apartment.

One picture stared down at me, making me lose my breath. It was a crayon scribble of a family—a mommy, a daddy, and a little girl.

But it wasn’t Noie.

The little girl had straight brown hair, and startling purple eyes. It’s a coincidence, I scoffed to myself. The mother had curly brown hair, and her eyes were purple, too.

“Noie, who’s that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking as I pointed to the picture.

“Devi and her mama and daddy,” she said.

Tearing my eyes away from the picture, I smiled down at her, shaky. It was a coincidence. Devi was probably one of her friends from the neighborhood or something, and she probably decided that purple was a good eye color to have.

Until meeting me, she probably never saw anyone with purple eyes. They weren’t very common—everyone was surprised when Devi was born with them, too.

“It’s so pretty,” I said, trying to stay casual. Showing her how freaked out I was wouldn’t be a good idea. “You’re such an artist!”

She giggled and raced toward her dolls. “We’re gonna play dollies, okay?”

“Absolutely,” I said, sitting down on the floor with her.

The rest of the evening went without incident—and without mention of Devi. After a quick bath, I wrapped Noie up in a towel, and carried her to her bedroom for pajamas and bed. Hair brushed and pajamas on, Noie looked at the bed and at me, her bottom lip starting to tremble.

“Where’s my daddy?” she asked, sounding tired and a little cranky.

“He’s coming home soon, baby,” I said, picking her up.

Her big eyes looked at me. “Don’t want to sleep in here,” she said, starting to whimper. “Wanna sleep in Daddy’s room.”

What harm could there be? I’d put her to bed in Gabe’s room, and would transfer her into her own when she fell asleep. I had done it more times than I could count. “Okay,” I said softly. “Do you need any teddy bears to bring into Daddy’s bed?”

Leaning over, she picked up a ratty little blanket. “Just blankie,” she said, cuddling against my neck. Taking a deep breath, I walked into Gabe’s bedroom. It smelled like him—of sawdust and sunshine. The bed beckoned invitingly. Walking over, I pulled the covers down and placed Noie down gently. Sitting at the edge of the bed, I covered her up.

“Lie down with me,” she said, looking up at me, one hand clutching her blanket.

I was too tired to argue. I ached too much to argue. But it was one thing to spend time with Noie in the café, and it was another thing entirely to act as her mother for the night. It was too much. I was barely hanging on as it was. Part of me was expecting Ravi to walk in any minute to sing a lullaby before she fell asleep. And while the thought of lying down on Gabe’s bed appealed to me in ways that it probably shouldn’t, I wasn’t going to go down that slippery slope of crushing on a guy. I couldn’t. Looking around the room, I noticed a rocking chair in the corner. “How about you sit on my lap on the rocking chair for a few minutes? And then you can sleep in Daddy’s bed by yourself.”

She nodded, sleepy. Slipping off my sandals, I sat down on the worn rocking chair. The thought of Gabe sitting here rocking Noie to sleep was one that was all too appealing. I drew Noie into my arms, feeling her little arm reach over and start patting me. “Now we sing a song to keep the bad dreams away,” she instructed, yawning.

“Which song?” I whispered.

I shouldn’t have been surprised when she started singing. But I was. It kicked me hard in the gut, and sent shivers down my spine.

“Go to sleep, little sunshine,” she began, her sweet little voice dropping knives into my heart. “The world will be waiting tomorrow for you to play…”

Slowly, I started to sing along. “Everyone gets tired sometimes, everyone needs a break. Let the flowers be your blankets, let the birds sing you to sleep. The moon will hold your spot until tomorrow…”

“Goodnight, lil’ sunshine, sunshine of mine,” she finished, cuddling into my arms.

“Who taught you that song, baby?” I asked her, my cheeks wet with tears.

“A Daddy.”

I sat there, rubbing her back, trying to understand what had just happened. How had she known that song? How had Gabe? Was she even talking about Gabe? Why a Daddy, and not my Daddy?

Closing my eyes, I let the feeling of curling up around a little body sing me to sleep.

“Maddie?” I opened my eyes, confused as to who was whispering my name.

There was Gabe’s furious face.

“Sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

“What are you doing here?” he hissed, furious.

“I’m watching your child,” I said quietly, trying not to wake up Noie. “What did it look like I was doing?”

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. I stood up slowly and carried Noie to Gabe’s bed. Setting her down gently, I covered her with the blanket, murmuring to her quietly as she shifted around on the bed, still sleeping. Slipping my sandals back on, I walked around him and toward the door of his bedroom. “Your mom asked me to watch Noie until you came home,” I said, my nerves already frayed from the whole evening. “I thought you knew. So I said yes. I’ll leave now.”

“No, wait,” he said, frustrated.

I stopped at the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I just wasn’t expecting you in there.”

It was the face of someone who hadn’t been able to find their child. I knew that face. I remembered that face all too well.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in there.”

“Give me a minute, okay?” he said, starting to unbutton his dress shirt. I turned away quickly, but not before I saw the sculpted muscle he was hiding under there.

This probably wasn’t a good idea. But I turned and walked toward the couch anyway.

He walked out of his room, clad in a T-shirt and sweatpants, looking exhausted.

“Did you eat yet?” I asked as he sat down at the other end of the couch. He shook his head.

“Wait here,” I said, and headed to the kitchen. I pulled out the lasagna that I had left warming there for him, and put it on a plate. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I carried the plate and drink to the living room table and set it down.

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, following me and sitting down at the table.

I shrugged.

“Part of the job,” I said, trying not to make it something that it wasn’t. Something that it couldn’t be. Watching him sit down at the end of a long day with a baby sleeping in the bedroom… was I just trying to relive my life with new people?

“I have to go now,” I said, standing up abruptly. I couldn’t do this.

“Dammit, Maddie, I need to talk to you,” he exploded, frustrated. “You can’t keep on running away like this.”

“It’s not running away,” I argued. Yes, it was running away. But it was for everyone’s good.

He sighed, looking old and exhausted.

“I’m going to come to the café tomorrow morning,” he said, standing so close I could smell him again. Sawdust and sunshine. “And when I come in, we’re going to talk about tonight and about the barbeque, okay?”

“Fine,” I said, not fine at all.

I knew he was watching me from the doorway as I practically ran home.

Chapter · Seven

I stared at the ceiling and sighed. It was almost two in the morning, and I had been lying there for hours. Nothing. No sleep.

It was better than the dreams that haunted me when I slept, I supposed.

The past few hours played over and over again in my mind, reminding me of everything I had lost. Of everything that I would never have again. The pain was crippling. Maybe staying here wasn’t a good idea, with memories of who I used to be in the form of a little girl who could break my heart in an instant.

My eye caught on the corner of the brochure for Fort Raleigh. What happened to them? I wondered, trying to get my mind off of that evening. Where had they all disappeared to? Maybe it was the fact that there were still people looking for what happened to them, all these years later. That people cared enough to keep looking.

My family? They probably didn’t even notice I was gone. And if they did notice, I’m sure they didn’t care. It was easier, to pretend I never existed. To pretend that they only had one perfect little daughter. One who never did anything wrong. God forbid should Jen do anything that was less than perfect.

I rubbed my eyes, exhausted.

There was no point reliving the past. There was no point trying to rationalize what they had done. What any of them had done. I was going to build the biggest damn bridge in America, and I was going to get over it.

The front door of the café rang, and I jumped, startled. It wasn’t Gabe. I sighed, and went to mop up the little coffee spill. “What’s made you so jumpy today?” Grandma asked.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“One day, you’re going to have to tell someone,” she said, her eyes seeing too much. I shrugged. One day was not going to be anytime soon.

“Good morning.”

Shit. It was Gabe.

I wanted to pretend I didn’t see him—but it was too late to try to hide in the back of the café. He had already seen me.

“Good morning,” I faltered, twisting a dishrag nervously.

“Can I borrow Maddie for a few minutes?” he asked Grandma.

She beamed. “Sure, dear,” she said, taking the dishrag out of my hand and shooing me away.

Following Gabe out the door, we walked around the side of the café to an empty park bench. Putting down his briefcase, he sat down, and looked at me expectantly. Good Lord, he was gorgeous. I sat down next to him, twisting my hands.

He looked at me steadily for a minute, his gaze calming me and completely freaking me out at the same time. “I’m really sorry about blowing up at you last night,” he began.

“It’s fine,” I said, watching my hands, unwilling to look him in the eye.

“It’s not fine.” He was running his hands through his hair again. “My mom called and left me a message that you were going to watch Noie, but I didn’t see it until you left.”

“It’s okay,” I repeated. “I understand you freaking out.” And I did.

I did.

“Can I finish groveling before you decide that you forgive me?” he asked, sounding slightly amused. I shrugged. “It’s probably going to make me sound a little paranoid,” he admitted.

Paranoia I was used to.

“To make a long, complicated story short, Noie’s mom left when she was five weeks old,” he said. “I have no idea where she is, and part of me is waiting for the day she decides she actually wants to have a daughter again.”

I reached over and put my hand on top of his. “It’s okay,” I repeated. “You’re allowed to get nervous. She’s your daughter.”

Turning his hand over, he laced his fingers through mine, sending sparks of awareness through me. That was not a good idea. “Here’s what I don’t understand,” he said, stroking my hand. “She won’t talk to anyone besides my parents and Sam. She freaks out. But not you.” He looked at me, his face a mixture of curiosity and confusion. “Why?”

I swallowed.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, watching his thumb rub small circles around my hands. “I don’t know.”

He sighed.

“Gabe?” I had to ask. I had to know. “Who taught her the song she sings at bedtime?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said. “She’s been singing it ever since she started talking. I have no idea where she heard it—maybe on some kid’s tape or something.”

That didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

“Nobody taught it to her?” I asked, pressing.

“Not that I know of.” He looked at me, feeling my hand start shaking. “What’s wrong?”

I leaned forward, taking deep, shuddering breaths and tried to calm down. It had to be a coincidence. It had to. But no matter what way I looked at it, no matter how I tried to rationalize it, it didn’t make any sense. Ravi never recorded it.

“Are you sure nobody taught it to her?” I asked.

“Pretty sure,” he said, his eyebrows coming together. “Why do you ask?”

But even if someone had taught it to her, who could it have possibly been? Ravi had never been to North Carolina before. None of this was making any sense.

“Maddie?”

“My boyfriend wrote that song.” The words rushed out of me, knowing if I didn’t say them now, I never would say anything. “Six years ago. It was never on any CD. He never recorded it. As far as I know, nobody knew the song.”

Gabe stared at me in confusion. “I don’t understand,” he began slowly.

“Well, neither do I!”

I couldn’t do this anymore.

Pulling my hand out of his, I rushed back into the café.

“Maddie!”

I ignored him. I couldn’t deal with this now. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to deal with it.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of confusion. Robotic. “You sure you’re okay, darling?” Grandma asked, worried.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Ignoring the things that bother you won’t make them disappear,” she said, watching me.

“I’m fine, Grandma. Really.”

I don’t think she believed me.

I didn’t sleep at all that night. Plagued with memories, I stumbled out of bed the next morning and down to the café. “Turn around and go right back upstairs,” Grandma scolded me. “I don’t want to hear another word from you, young lady. I will not have you working yourself to the bone here. Back in bed.”

Protesting was not an option. Turning around, I stumbled back up the stairs and into bed. And spent the next few hours staring at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep, and fighting to stay awake. I thought back to the first days after the accident—days that were a medicated haze. Maybe I should do that again. Take something and sleep, uninterrupted.

No. No medications.

I couldn’t risk going through that again. If I started taking sleeping pills, I didn’t think I would be able to stop until I’d taken enough to go to sleep and never wake up.

Maybe staying here wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe I should keep going. Maybe I should leave. I grabbed my car keys, locked the apartment door behind me and climbed into my car. I needed to leave—go somewhere, anywhere, away from here. The next thing I knew, I was on the road toward Fort Raleigh. I parked my car, and this time, I didn’t even bother walking into the museum, just headed to the memorial in the back. It was a quiet day, and nobody else was there. Breathing a sigh of relief, I sank back against the fence and tried to regulate my breathing.

Tracing circles in the dirt next to me, I thought about everything that had happened since I came to North Carolina. How the only thing I had run away from was my family. But was it running when they weren’t looking? I didn’t know.

Leaving them didn’t matter to me. Leaving the graves hurt me. Leaving the only spot I could talk to Ravi and my baby hurt me.

But nothing was there but gravestones.

Nobody had listened when I didn’t want the graves there. It hadn’t felt right.

Looking around the empty clearing, I walked over to a corner of the field, near the beginning of the trees. A cluster of flowers were growing, the only color besides green and brown in the entire field. Bending over, I slowly stroked a petal, remembering the feel of my baby’s cheeks. I wished I had been able to do that at the end. But all I did was sit there, trapped, listening to her cry. Oh, God, it hurt. It wouldn’t stop hurting.

But it felt better here, somehow. It felt right. Scanning the field, I noticed two small white rocks by a nearby tree. Perfect little stones, round and smooth, so similar to the ones I used to put on the bottom of the vase of flowers Ravi would bring home. He’d tease me about it, that I was trying to make the vase into an aquarium for flowers. I’d laugh, and tell him he had no artistic soul. He’d laugh, because he knew I was lying, and kiss me, because he could.

Carefully picking them up, I brushed them off, wiping the bits of dirt off until they were smooth and white again. They were the same color as the gravestones I had left in New York. The ones I hadn’t been to since the funeral. The ones I couldn’t think about too much without having my heart break all over again. The ones my parents pretended didn’t exist. I placed the rocks by the flowers, nestling them into an empty spot. It felt like I was burying them all over again. A soul-crushing grief enveloped me, making my knees give out. Crumpling to the ground, I buried my face in my hands and started to pray, the words tumbling over each other.

“God? Whoever? Please take care of them. Take care of my Ravi. Take care of my baby. Take care of them…” I choked on a sob. “Hug them close to you. Tell them I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish it would have been me instead…” Rocking back and forth, I let the tears flow. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated over and over again. “It was all my fault and I’m so sorry.”

The wind began to blow, and the smell of turpentine and sweat drifted by. Ravi.

“I’m sorry, Ravi,” I sobbed, knowing without a doubt in my mind that he was here. That he could hear me. “I’m trying so hard, and I can’t. I can’t do it, Ravi.” Hunched over, I cried for all the years I had spent cuddled in his arms, the years I watched him coax magic from his guitar and from his paintbrush. For the years I had spent with a gaping hole in my heart where he used to fit. For the hope that Crawford would be able to fit part of that hole. For the crushing betrayal of realizing that it was all a lie. That everything had been a lie.

“Maddie?” I barely heard my name being called, I was so wrapped up in my grief and my remembering. “Maddie, are you okay?”

Sawdust and sunshine.

Gabe.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice worried.

I swallowed hard. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice stronger. “What are you doing here?”

“I work nearby,” he answered. “I come here to clear my mind every once in a while.”

“Oh,” I said, looking back down at my hands, unwilling for him to see my tearstained face. I should stay away from him. It wasn’t fair for me not to.

Sitting down next to me, he looked at me, silent. I looked down at the two little stones, surrounded by flowers. This felt like a better place for them. Something in me shifted.

“Did anyone hurt you?” he asked.

I shook my head, silent. It was too complicated.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Sorry if I bothered you.”

“You didn’t bother me,” he said, his warm drawl wrapping itself around me like a comforting hug. “I almost didn’t notice you were there.”

I started to get up. I was all cried out. Maybe I would be able to get some sleep now.

“Whoa, where are you going?” he asked gently.

“Going back,” I said. Looking up at his face, I started to drown in his eyes. There was something about him that drew me to him. Something about him that made me think he might understand.

His eyes sharpened. “You were crying,” he said, his voice strangely husky. “You sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “I’m okay.”

He was silent for a minute, his face etched with concern. “Do you want me to drive you back?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be fine,” I said. “Don’t worry.”

He stood, watching my face.

“I don’t get it,” I whispered. “Why are you being so nice to me? Why do you care?”

“Besides basic human decency?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“Maddie, there’s something here,” he said, his voice getting husky. “God only knows what it is. But there’s something about you…and not just because Noie has become attached to you in a way she hasn’t done to anyone else. There’s something, and I don’t know what it is.”