The Memory Child (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

Brian

February 2013

B
rian whistled a song he’d heard earlier on the radio. He didn’t know the words, but the tune was catchy enough. As he reached for a towel to wipe away the traces of shaving cream from his cheeks, he knocked his wedding ring off the sink ledge. It spun before dropping into the garb
age pail.

He wrinkled his nose as he wiped the white cream off his face and bent down to the garbage can. It was full of mounds of Kleenex and dental floss. Gross. He nudged aside some of the garbage, hoping his ring was close to the top. No such luck. After moving the garbage aside, he found his ring lying on top
of a box.

He almost dismissed the box
. Almost.

Brian set his ring on the sink counter and pulled out the box. His heart skipped a beat when he realized what he was holding. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he opened it up and forgot t
o breathe.

A small white stick dropped into his hand and he stared down at it in amazement. He glanced up and looked across the room to call out to his wife, bu
t stopped.

This was in the garbage. The garbage, covered with Kleenex, as if it needed to be hidden. Why would she hide this? How did he not even know she was
taking it?

Brian went through the last few days in his head to see if Diane had given him any sort of hint that she might be pregnant, but there was
nothing.

If he hadn’t knocked his ring off the ledge, if he hadn’t nudged the garbage to the side and caught sight of the box his wife hid beneath everything else, would he have
found out?

His heart jumped as he stared down at the little plus sign. He knew what that meant—he’d waited for too many years to see that little pink plus sign. She was
pregnant.

Pregnant.

But why hadn’t she
told him?

Maybe she’d just found out and was trying to process it all first. This was part of their plan. They’d given themselves ten years before they’d talk about having children, and it had been twelve. They were in their thirties now, in a good place, happy, and financially secure. Everything they’d wanted to be in place before they brought a child into the world
was set.

They were going to hav
e a baby.

Tears filled Brian’s eyes as the realization hit him. An area in his heart he didn’t realize had been empty was now filling up. Amazing how a little pink plus sign on a small white stick coul
d do that.

A baby.

“Brian? Could y
ou help?”

He quickly dropped the stick into his pocket as Diane walked toward him, turned her back, and gathered her hair in her hands. She wore a strapless black dress that sparkled as if covered with diamonds. A flash of lightning snaked through his body as he reached for the zipper, his finger brushing against her soft skin as he pulle
d upward.

He’d never been so turned on in
his life.

With his hands, he caressed her waist before turning her toward him. A look of surprise filled her eyes moments before he slanted his mouth o
ver hers.

She gave him a small, halfhearted
push away.

“We’re going to be late.” A soft smile played on
her lips.

“I don’t care.” He pulled her back in. “Let’s have our own little celebration.” He could think of a million ways they could celebrate tonight, and all of them were in bed between the soft sat
in sheets.

Diane’s face lit up but she still pushed him away, untangling his hands from around her body. “We can’t do that.” She leaned in close and kissed him softly. “Later, okay?” she
whispered.

Later.

“Promise?” He watched the way her body swayed as she made her way toward their walk-in
closets.

“
Promise.”

He followed her, leaning against the edge of the closet door, and memorized how she looked, bathed in a soft light as she studied the rows of shoes in fro
nt of her.

“Which ones would lo
ok best?”

Brian remembered not to roll his eyes as she picked out two pair, one a soft pearl and the oth
er black.

“You bought the soft pearl ones for this dress, didn’t you?” Yes, he knew what to call them after the lecture he’d received a week earlier when she brought them home and he’d asked why she needed another pair
of shoes.

Diane shrugged. “Maybe black would be better.” She bit the side of her lip as she slipped one of each onto
her feet.

He crossed the small room and stood beside her, pretending to deeply consider the two
options.

“I think either would work, especially with you naked.” He ogled his brows, loving the laughter that spilled from
her lips.

“What’s with you tonight? You were grumpier than all get out a half
hour ago.”

“That was before I found this.” He was going to wait until later to confess he knew her secret but he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled out the little white stick that made his dream come true and watched for the look of joy to cross his wi
fe’s face.

The last thing he expected was to have her eyes shy away
from his.

He stood there as she walked away from him. Time stood still as he struggled to process what was h
appening.

“Diane?”

She stood at her pullout jewelry container. With careful precision, she opened it and selected the diamond earrings he’d bought her for Christmas last year. She took her time putting them on before fiddling with
her hair.

He waited for her to say something. Anything. His world was crashing down around him and until she spoke, he could
only wait.

“What do you want me to say? I took a pregnancy test. It came back positive. But until I go to the doctor and do an official blood test, nothing in my life has
changed.”

“Our life,” he whispered, but loud enough that he caught her sli
ght shrug.

“Those tests are false all the time.” She turned toward him but refused to look at him, to let him read the truth in her own eyes. He always could. She might be an amazing businesswoman, able to keep her cool and keep a cold mask on her face when she needed it, but never with him.
Until now.

“Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve talked about this moment for years.” His voice hitched. “You should have
told me.”

Diane’s mouth opened then closed. Her shoulders slouched for a moment before her back straightened. He knew his wife. He knew she was placing this discussion into a box and focusing on tonight’s events. He knew, even before she opened her eyes, that she was finished with a discussion that for her hadn’t eve
n started.

A slight smile gathered upon her lips as she walked toward him. She held out her hand and waited for him to grab it. He hesitated a moment, stared into her eyes, and forced her to read the multitude of emotions there: how happy he was to find out she was pregnant and how much it hurt to know she’d kept the news
from him.

“I need to focus on this party for tonight. I need you to be there, with me, beside me.” She squeezed his hand. “Whether I’m…pregnant or not…can we talk about that tonight? After the party? Please?” For a moment he saw the sliver of hope there. That’s all he needed. To know that there was a part of her wanting to be
pregnant.

Brian pulled his wife into his arms and held her close. He breathed her in deep, loving the warm vanilla scent. It brought him back to their early years, when all they focused on was each other, before they forged ahead with their goals and making five- and ten-year plans. Back then, ten years seemed like a lifetime. Back then, having children was the last thing on the
ir minds.

Until recently. When they’d celebrated their twelfth anniversary, Brian had been the one to bring up the topic of children. He was the only man in upper management at Harper and Wainright LLC who was married and childless, a decision most people assumed was his and Diane’s together, although he always caught the sympathetic glances. The worst was on the weekends, when talk of Little League or hockey games
came up.

He was ready for a child’s laughter to fill their house. More th
an ready.

“You know that times are different now, that you don’t need to be afraid,” he w
hispered.

Diane stiffened in
his arms.

“I don’t want to talk about this.
Not now.”

“You never want to talk about it. But we should. What happened to you
r mother—”

“Is not something I wish to discuss ri
ght now.”

When she pushed herself away from him, he let her go. Just like he always did whenever he tried to bring the topic up of her mother and having a child. The mask she wore was in place, and she was right. It wasn’t fair of him to bring this up, not now, when they couldn’t talk
about it.

“What about
Charlie?”

The look Diane gave him was both murderous and disgusted. Of course she wouldn’t have told her sister. Not yet, not if she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. But she eventually would. The bond between the two of them was unique, one Brian had never experienced with his own
brothers.

But despite their closeness, there was one topic the two sisters never discussed. It was the only topic Brian had once promised never to
bring up.

The fact their mother gave birth to their lit
tle brother, then killed him. Then
herself.

CHAPTER THREE

Diane

Present–February

I
miss Brian tonight. Rereading his letter Nina gave me this morning did
n’t help.

A couple of times a week with our morning tea she’ll hand over something from him. Before he left, he’d given her a box full of letters, notes, and a few homemade word puzzles he made up for me. This was something he’d always done whenever he went away—leaving notes hidden in my drawers, beneath my pillows, in the coffee canister—always in the last place I’d expect to find them. In return, I’d leave notes in his suitcase, his computer bag, inside his shoes,
and such.

I want him to come home. I need him to come home. He hasn’t even seen Grace. I know it’s not his fault that he couldn’t be there for her birth, but how can a father not come home to see his own child? Something must have gone wrong in London for him to stay for so long and without any word. He should have return
ed by now.

I don’t even understand why he had to go. He’s only an engineer, one of many in his company. Just because he was in management didn’t mean he had to be the one to do all the traveling. It was ridiculous that they would send him overseas so close to her due date. R
idiculous.

I tell Grace about Brian every night. I tell her stories about how he decorated this room for her, what kind of ice cream he’d bring home, and the quirky songs he’d sing while making dinner. I want her to recognize him when he gets home, so every night I play the recording he made for her months before she
was due.

I love listening to it. I listen to the soft cadence of his voice, the enthusiasm in his love for her. I wish I could see him, touch him, and have him lie beside me at night while
we sleep.

I
need him.

I’ll be home before you know it.
That’s what he said in his letter. Except he’s not and I don’t
know why.

If I could, I would book a flight today and take Grace to see him, but the thought of getting on an airplane causes me to panic. Like now. Even thinking about it has my hands shaking and I feel like I’m about to throw up. Nina says it’s all hormonal and that it’ll pass if I just give it time, that there have been so many changes in my life in the recent past that it’s just how my body is reacting. I’m sure Brian understands; he has to. I’ve sent him countless e-mails to explain, but he hasn’t respo
nded yet.

Any other woman would think her husband had left her but I’m not any other woman. I know how much my husband loves me and how hard it was for him to
leave us.

I pace my bedroom, with the muted voices from the television in the loft filling what had been like white noise, until I heard the screams and cries. What channel had I left it on? I thought it was news. I thought about going to turn it off but I didn’t want to leave Grace, not even for a second, even though she was fast asleep in the bassinet o
n my bed.

It’s irrational, this fear I have, but I’ve come to accept it as normal. It has to b
e, right?

“I thought you might like some tea.” Nina stood in my doorway holding a tray with a teapot and two
teacups.

I glanced back toward Grace to make sure she was still asleep. I watched the way her chest rose, in and out, in and out, and the way her eyelashes fluttered. Sweet dreams, l
ittle one.

“As long as you join me,” I said, motioning to my little sitt
ing area.

This had become our daily ritual. In the evening before we both headed to bed, we would share a cup of tea and discuss how I was feeling, what the agenda for the next day would be, and if I’d taken my m
edication.

“Do I still need to take these?” I picked up the little bottle containing a myriad of pills and groaned. Antidepressants. I don’t understand why I have to keep taking these when I feel fine, but Diane keeps insisting it would be too much of a jolt for my body to stop right now. I hate taking any sort of medication if I don’t reall
y need to.

“Just a little while longer.” Nina poured tea into the teacups and then handed me a small cup of water. Her piercing eyes watched me as I swallowed t
he pills.

“I thought you were only to be the nanny. I don’t need a nurse anymore, you know,” I
grumbled.

A cloud crossed Nina’s face before she handed me my teacup. “You were pretty quiet at dinner today. Everything okay? Anything you want to
discuss?”

My shoulders drooped as I took a sip of the hot tea and sat back in my chair. Maybe I should go and bring the bassinet over here so I could keep an eye
on Grace.

“She’s fine.” Nina reached out and stopped me as I was about to stand up. It was weird how she seemed to know what I was going to do before
I did it.

“I can’t hear her breathe.” So many babies still die of SIDS, and I didn’t want Grace to be on
e of them.

“She’s okay. You need to learn to relax when you’re around the lit
tle doll.”

I sighed as I continued to watch the bassinet. She really was a doll. Those were the first words out of my mouth when I first saw her, and nothing has changed since then. She reminded me of one of those Precious Moments dolls, with their heart-shaped lips, long eyelashes, and perfect features. That’s what Grace was—perfect. My heart swelled with love for her, and all I wanted to do was hold her in
my arms.

I turned my attention away from my sleeping daughter and caught the look in Nina’s eyes. Pity. Compassion. Sadn
ess. Hope.

“Don’t. Don’t look at me li
ke that.”

“I’m sorry, Diane. I know today was hard for you. Do you want to talk a
bout it?”

I was entranced by the soft shade of Nina’s eyes. I loved how they changed with her emotions. One moment they could be a solid brown, full and steady, and the next a lighter shade with speckles of green. What I loved most was when she held Grace, how soft they became, like dusk. It was the reason I trusted her so completely with Grace. I knew she loved her almost as much
as I did.

“I didn’t think going back to work would be as hard as
it was.”

“You live in a cocoon here, one of your own making.” Nina picked up her teacup and held it in h
er hands.

I shrugged. My cocoon was a safe one. The only thing missing
was Brian.

“Did anyone call while I was out?” I was sure I’d asked her earlier, but all I cared about the moment I walked through my front door was my
daughter.

“No. No calls.” She didn’t even bother to hide
the sigh.

That really bothered me. I was trying not to let it, bu
t it did.

“Does he not care? This is so unlike him.” No one at Harper and Wainright would return my calls either. This was where paranoia would be appropriate, except Nina had warned me that if I didn’t want postpartum depression to take hold of me, then I needed to not give in to it. Like I had a choice. She seemed to think I did, or at least was trying to make me believe it. It had to be true, though; give me a clear goal and I’d focus on it one hundred percent. Right then, not dealing with depression was one such goal. I picked up my teacup and enjoyed the warmth on my cold fingers. I didn’t realize I wa
s so cold.

Nina’s lips pursed before she shook
her head.

“What?”

“You need to focus on yourself and put everything else aside. I know it’s hard and you feel alone and”—she paused—“abandoned. But you’re not. I’m here. I promised your husband I would look after you and I intend to do that for as long as you
need me.”

I caught a slight sheen to her eyes and didn’t like it. If anything, Nina could be colder than I could. She wore a mask she rarely took off, a mask of preservation and determination. But right now, at this moment, it
was gone.

“I know you will.” I leaned forward and covered her hand with my own. No other words needed t
o be said.

Nina nodded, lifted her chin, and swallowed. I could see the struggle to compose herself. I wonder what it was that caused that momentary break in h
er facade?

We both sipped a
t our tea.

“What show was on the television
earlier?”

“What do you mean?” Nina cocked
her head.

“Seemed to be a lot of screaming and then crying. Were you watching
a movie?”

Nina shook her head before refilling both our cups. “Why don’t you tell me about y
our day.”

I glanced back toward Grace and relaxed in my chair. Where would I even begin? The crazy conversation with Walter about my mental state and if I was ready to resume working full time, or the way Amanda would talk to me, as if she knew more about what was going on than I did? The lunch meeting where I had to put out too many fires of Walter’s making? Or the times I locked myself in the bathroom and cried because I missed Grace and Bria
n so much?

“It was exhausting. This whole day has been…tough. I wasn’t p
repared.”

“I’m sorry, Diane. I wish I could be of more help. You don’t have to carry such a heavy load. You do understand that
, right?”

I nodded.

“How about going for a walk in the park in the morning then, before you begin y
our day?”

I almost choked on my tea. A walk? Going into work was one thing, but taking Grace out in public, where she could pick up germs, get bitten by annoying insects, and be exposed to toxins in the air? No, I wasn’t ready for that. I shook my head and stared down at my lap. My fingernails looked horrid. When was the last time I’d had a manicure? And my rings. I had to remember to put my wedding rings back on
tomorrow.

“Just a short one; it’ll be good
for you.”

“I’m not sure Grace is ready yet. I should wait a little bit longer before I take her out in public, don’t yo
u think?”

Nina stood up and gathered the cups and teapot back onto the tray. I noticed she hardly gave Grace
a glance.

“I think it would do you a world of good.” She held the tray in her hands and stared me straight in the eye, daring me
to say no.

I bit my lip. I wanted to, I really did. Why was it that I could be in control at work and yet be so…insecure here
at home?

“Okay.” I gave in. I had to pick my battles and this wasn’t worth the fight. But it would be on
my terms.

“Just a small one. First thing in the morning, so I have time to shower and get ready for work. I could do with the exercise anyway. It might help with the headaches I’ve been havin
g lately.”

I could tell this grabbed her attention. Her back had already been turned, but sh
e stopped.

“Why haven’t you mentioned them?” Her voice was very controlled
and soft.

“They’re just headaches.” I shrugged. I headed back toward the bed where Grace lay. She looked like an angel sleeping there in her
bassinet.

Brian had picked it out, surprising me at home one day with an extra-large gift-wrapped box. It was quite heavy and he wouldn’t let me lift it; instead, he placed it on the bed and watched as I opened it. Inside was a beautiful basket with tightly woven strands covered in the softest cream cashmere blanket I’ve ever touched. It was perfect. We’d already picked out a crib, rocking chair, and changing table, but I couldn’t decide on this
last item.

“Starting tomorrow we’re going to keep a log of these headaches, their severity, how long they last, and so on. I can’t help you unless I know what you are going
through.”

Nina’s voice startled me. I’d been so focused on Grace, I’d forgotten she was still in the room. I didn’t bother to respond, since it was just a simple headache, one I got most mornings. They normally disappeared after a few hours. Nothing to get all worked
up about.