“Thank you,” Liis said, holding Stella close to her chest. I’d never seen folded dress socks or Mary Janes so tiny, and her diaper was covered with frilled, navy blue bloomers.
Val approached Liis, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Liis’ eyes widened a bit, and then she relaxed, even managing a small smile. Val flashed her a quick glance of a text message, and then tears fell down Liis’s cheeks.
Travis and Abby came straight over, and they decided to take the conversation into the next room, helping Liis gather the baby’s things before scurrying off to talk.
“That was … odd …” Trenton said.
I grabbed my husband’s hand, pulled him to stand, and then walked down the hall and out the back door. Jim had decided to wait until everyone left before spreading Thomas’s ashes and warned he would likely wait until just before the boys left. He was in no hurry to do something so final and needed a few days to breathe after the funeral.
“What is it?” Trenton asked.
I didn’t stop until we were under the shade tree in the farthest corner of the backyard, near the fence. The boys had carved their initials into the bark; the only difference was the middle letter. The grass was bare in some places, already dehydrated from the Illinois heat. The temperatures were hovering in the mid to high nineties, and the buzzing of the cicadas took the place of the birds. It was too hot to sing, too hot to move. The only breeze felt more like a heater blowing on us than a reprieve. But there we were, outside in a black dress and suit. Beads of sweat had already formed along Trenton’s hairline.
“Something’s not right,” I said.
“I know.”
“You know?”
Trenton loosened his tie. “Something’s off. Travis is acting weird. Abby and Dad are acting weird.”
“Do you think he knows?” I asked.
“Knows what?”
“The reason why Travis is acting so weird. He knew the twins were hotshots. He knew about Travis and Thomas. Maybe he senses something is off, too.”
Trenton shook his head. “I dunno. Maybe.”
“They wouldn’t …” I hesitated. “You don’t think they would …”
“Lie again?” Trenton muttered. “Yeah, I do.”
I tucked my chin and wrinkled my nose, feeling silly for even saying it aloud. “But not about … I mean, you don’t think Thomas is alive somewhere, getting updates about his grieving family.”
“No,” Trenton said. “They wouldn’t do that to Dad. I know you want him to be alive. I do, too. They’ve lied, but they wouldn’t do that.”
“You heard them at the hospital. Liis isn’t going to testify. Mick is missing, so he’s unable to testify. The Carlisis were seen leaving town. Maybe this was all to keep anyone else from getting killed.”
I could see in Trenton’s eyes that he wanted to believe my theory, but even after revealing the truth about Thomas and Travis, to think they were capable of causing our family so much agony was farfetched at best.
“Dad isn’t in great health. Travis wouldn’t risk it.”
“Would Dad want him to?” I asked.
Trenton mulled it over. “Yeah. He probably would.”
“Would Thomas and Travis know that?”
Trenton’s eyes bounced from one point on the ground to another. “Yeah, but …” He sighed, at his limit. “I can’t hope for that, Cami, c’mon! If it’s not true and Tommy is gone, I’ll lose him all over again.”
“Keep your voice down,” I said, reaching for him.
“Why?”
“Because if it’s true, this is all to show the Carlisis that they don’t have to threaten our family anymore. If it’s true, then someone is still watching.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ABBY
I READJUSTED AGAINST THE HARD WOOD of the NICU nursery rocking chair, thanking the nurse when she brought a folded blanket to cushion me. Carter had a few neighbors, meaning we’d made friends with two sets of new parents. Scott and Jennifer’s daughter Harper Ann was born five days ago, and she was experiencing a setback. She’d been struggling hour to hour for the last twelve hours. Jason and Amanda’s son Jake had been born two days after Carter. We were afraid he wasn’t going to make it, but he’d recovered and was nearly as big as our son was. Carter was nursing consistently and gaining weight, so he’d be able to move to the step-down unit soon, and then we’d be able to take him home.
“Morning,” Scott said, passing me to greet Harper Ann. Even though the couples had children in the NICU, Travis had insisted on a full background check. Scott was a former Marine; a half-inch thick, long, curved scar left a crevice just above his ear toward the back of his head, disrupting his silver hair, a scar from a head wound he’d survived in Afghanistan. Travis felt better leaving us alone when Scott was there, and lately, that was a lot.
I nodded to him, patting Carter’s back. Carter let out a strong burp, and Scott and I chuckled.
Scott scrubbed his hands in the sink and then leaned over Harper Ann’s bed. “Hi, baby.” She stirred, and a wide grin spread across Scott’s face. “Mommy’s on her way up. Yes, she is. She’s talking to Gramma and the doctor. She can’t wait to see you. She talked about you last night until she fell asleep.”
I rocked Carter, turning to smell his hair. Dark, wispy sprouts covered his head, and I loved to feel them against my cheek. It was a new experience, nuzzling one baby at a time instead of two. Jessica and James were my first try at motherhood, and they were so much work that I didn’t have many instances to just sit and enjoy them. Carter was quiet for the most part and loved to be held. We snuggled every day, and the nurses said he’d fuss just before I arrived, seeming to know I would be there soon. Once he was in my arms, we were both content.
I hummed to him, trying to imprint the memory in my brain; his smell, how small his diapered tush felt in my hand, the length and softness of his fingers. The shape of his fingernails. The way his lashes fell against his cheeks when he slept. The sound he made when he breathed. He would be bigger tomorrow. I didn’t want to forget.
“Well, hi there,” Shelly said, greeting Travis.
I felt my eyes widen, and I tried not to wake Carter in my excitement while I watched the nurse help Travis with his sterile gown. I leaned forward as my husband bent over to kiss me. He pecked my lips and then rushed over to the sink to scrub his hands. He seemed animated. He nodded to Scott and then returned to me, holding out his hands for our son.
I giggled. “Did you miss him?”
“Gimme,” he said.
We traded places, and Travis cradled Carter. No matter how much Carter grew every day, he still looked tiny in Travis’s enormous arms.
Travis pushed back gently with his toes, rocking our son while gazing down at him.
“You’ve been gone three days this time,” I said. “Don’t forget, Lena isn’t here to help.”
“Tying up loose ends,” he said.
“You have good news?”
He looked up at me. “It’s done.”
I crossed my arms across my middle, hesitant to hope. “What’s done? Like permanent done or investigation is done so we start the trial process.”
“A few of them will go to trial.”
“And the rest?”