At First Sight (28 page)

He remembered the calm way his mother had explained everything, but even so, he had begged her to stay for just a little while longer.

“I can’t,” she said. “And besides, I think you need to do this. She’s depending on you.”

On his first night alone with Claire, he checked on her more than a dozen times. She was in the bassinet beside his bed; on his end table was a flashlight that he used to make sure she was breathing. When she woke with cries, he fed and burped her; in the morning, he gave her a bath and panicked again when he saw her shivering. It took far more time to get her dressed than he thought it would. He laid her on a blanket in the living room and watched her as he sipped his coffee. He thought he would work when she went down for a nap, but he didn’t; he thought the same thing when she went down for a second nap, but again he ignored his work. In his first month, it was all he could do simply to keep his e-mail up-to-date.

As the weeks rolled into months, he eventually got the hang of it. His work was gradually organized around the changing of diapers, feeding, bathing, and doctor’s visits. He brought Claire in for shots and called the pediatrician when her leg was still swollen and red hours later. He buckled her in her car seat and brought her to the grocery store when he went shopping or to church. Before he knew it, Claire had begun to smile and laugh; she often stretched her fingers toward his face, and he found that he could spend hours watching her in the same way she watched him. He took hundreds of pictures of Claire, and he grabbed the video camera and recorded the moment when she let go of the end table and took her first steps.

Gradually, ever so gradually, birthdays and holidays came and went. As Claire grew, her personality became more distinct. As a toddler, she wore only pink, then blue, and now, at age four, purple. She loved to color but hated to paint. Her favorite raincoat had a Dora the Explorer patch on the sleeve, and she wore it even when the sun was shining. She could choose her own clothes, dress herself except for tying her shoes, and was able to recognize most of the letters in the alphabet. Her collection of Disney movie DVDs occupied most of the rack near the television, and after her bath, Jeremy would read her three or four stories before kneeling beside her as they said their prayers.

If there was joy in his life, there was tedium as well, and time itself played funny tricks. It seemed to vanish whenever he tried to leave the house-he was always ten minutes behind schedule-yet he could sit on the floor playing with Barbie or coloring in the Blue’s Clues notebook for what seemed like hours, only to realize that only eight or nine minutes had actually passed. There were times when he felt he should be doing something more with his life, yet when he thought about it, he would realize that he had no desire to change it at all.

As Lexie had predicted, Boone Creek was an ideal place for Claire to grow up, and he and Claire often headed for Herbs. Though Doris moved a bit more slowly these days, she delighted in spending time with Claire, and Jeremy couldn’t help but smile whenever he saw a pregnant woman enter the restaurant, asking for Doris. He supposed it was to be expected now. Three years ago, Jeremy had finally decided to take Doris up on her offer about the journal and had made arrangements for an experiment under controlled settings. In all, Doris met with ninety-three women and made her predictions, and when the records were unsealed a year later, Doris had been correct in each and every instance.

A year later, the short book he wrote about Doris stayed on the best-seller list for five months; in his conclusion, Jeremy admitted that there was no scientific explanation.

Jeremy made his way back to the living room. After tossing Claire’s jacket on the chair beside his, he moved to the window and pushed aside the curtains. Off to the side, nearly out of view, was the garden that he and Lexie had started after moving into the house.

He thought of Lexie often, especially on quiet nights like these. In the years since she’d passed away, he hadn’t dated, nor had he felt any desire to do so. He knew that people were worried about him. One by one, his friends and family had talked to him about other women, but his answer was always the same: He was too busy taking care of Claire to even consider attempting another relationship. Although this was somewhat true, what he didn’t tell them was that part of him had died along with Lexie. She would always be with him. When he imagined her, he never saw her lying in the hospital bed. Instead, he saw her smile as she’d gazed at the town from the top of Riker’s Hill or her expression when they’d felt the baby kick for the first time. He heard the contagious joy of her laughter or saw the look of concentration as she read a book. She was alive, always alive, and he wondered who he would have been had Lexie never come into his life. Would he have ever married? Would he still live in the city? He didn’t know, would never know, but when he thought back, it sometimes seemed as if his life had begun five years ago. He wondered whether in another few years he would remember anything at all about his life in New York or the person he used to be.

Yet he wasn’t unhappy. He was pleased with the man he’d become, the father he’d become. Lexie had been right all along, for what gave his life meaning was love. He treasured those moments when Claire wandered down the stairs in the mornings, while Jeremy was reading the newspaper and sipping coffee. Half the time, her pajamas were askew, one sleeve up, her tummy showing, the pants slightly twisted, and her dark hair was poofed out in a messy halo. In the bright light of the kitchen, she would pause momentarily and squint before rubbing her eyes.

“Hi, Daddy,” she would say, her voice almost inaudible.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he would answer, and Claire would go into his arms. As he lifted her and leaned back, she would relax against him, head on his shoulder, her small arms twined around his neck.

“I love you so much,” Jeremy would say, feeling the shallow movement of her chest as she breathed.

“I love you, too, Daddy.”

At moments like those, he ached that she never knew her mother.

It was time. Jeremy slipped on his jacket and zipped it up. Then, heading down the hall with her jacket, hat, and mittens, he went into Claire’s bedroom. He placed his hand on her back and felt the quick rhythm of her heartbeat.

“Claire, sweetie?” he whispered. “I need you to wake up.”

He shook her slightly, and she rolled her head from one side to the other.

“C’mon, sweetie,” he said, reaching for her. He slowly scooped her into his arms, thinking how light she seemed. In just a few years, he would no longer be able to do this.

She moaned slightly. “Daddy?” she whispered.

He smiled, thinking she was the most beautiful child in the world.

“It’s time to go.”

Her eyes were still closed as she answered, “Okay, Daddy.”

He sat her on the bed, slipped her rubber boots over the thick pajamas she’d worn to bed, and draped her jacket around her shoulders, watching as she slipped her arms into the sleeves. He slid on her mittens, then her hat, and picked her up again.

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

She yawned. “Where are we going?”

“We’re going to take a ride,” Jeremy said, carrying her through the living room. As he adjusted her in his arms, he patted his pocket, making sure he had the keys.

“In the car?”

“Yes,” he said, “in the car.”

She looked around, her face showing the youthful confusion that he’d come to adore. She turned toward the window.

“But it’s dark,” she said.

“Yes,” Jeremy said again. “And it’s foggy, too.”

Outside, the air was crisp and moist, and the lonely stretch of road that passed by his house looked as if a cloud had been dropped upon it. In the sky, neither the moon nor the stars were evident, as if the universe itself had been erased. He shifted Claire in his arms so that he could reach for his keys, then placed her in the booster seat.

“It’s scary out here,” she said. “Like on Scooby-Doo.”

“Kind of,” he admitted, buckling her in. “But we’ll be safe.”

“I know,” she said.

“I love you,” he added. “Do you know how much?”

She rolled her eyes as if she were an actress. “More than there are fishes in the sea and higher than the moon. I know.”

“Ah,” Jeremy said.

“It’s cold,” she added.

“I’ll turn the heater on just as soon as I start the car.”

“Are we going to Grandma’s?”

“No,” he said. “She’s sleeping. We’re going to a special place.”

Beyond the window of the car, the streets of Boone Creek were quiet, and the town seemed to be asleep. With the exception of porch lights, most of the homes were dark. Jeremy drove slowly, navigating carefully through the fog-covered country hills.

After pulling to a stop in front of Cedar Creek Cemetery, he removed a flashlight from the glove compartment. He unbuckled Claire from her car seat and headed into the cemetery, Claire’s hand wrapped in his own.

Checking his watch, Jeremy noted that it was past midnight, but he knew he still had a few minutes. Claire was holding the flashlight, and as he walked beside her, he could hear the rustle of leaves underfoot. The fog made it impossible to see more than a few steps in any direction, but it had taken Claire only an instant to realize where they were.

“Are we going to see Mommy?” she asked. “Because you forgot to bring flowers.”

In the past, when he brought her here they always brought flowers. More than four years ago, Lexie had been buried next to her parents. It had required a special dispensation from the county commissioners to have her buried here, but Mayor Gherkin had forced it through at the request of Doris and Jeremy.

Jeremy paused. “You’ll see,” he promised.

“Then what are we doing here?”

He squeezed her hand. “You’ll see,” he repeated.

They walked a few steps in silence. “Can we see if the flowers are still there?”

He smiled, pleased that she cared and also that coming here in the middle of the night didn’t frighten her. “Of course we can, sweetheart.”

Ever since the funeral, Jeremy visited the cemetery at least once every couple of weeks, usually bringing Claire with him. It was here she learned about her mother; he told her of their visits to the top of Riker’s Hill, told her that it was here he’d first known he loved Lexie, told her that he’d moved here because he couldn’t imagine a life without her. He talked mainly as a way of keeping Lexie alive in his memory, doubting whether Claire was even listening. Yet even though she was not yet five, she could now recite his stories as if she’d lived them. The last time he’d brought her here, she’d listened quietly and seemed almost withdrawn by the time they’d left. “I wish she didn’t die,” she’d said on their way back to the car. That had happened a little after Thanksgiving, and he wondered whether it had anything to do with her nightmares. They hadn’t started until a month later, but he couldn’t be sure.

Trudging through the moist and chilly night, they finally reached the graves. Claire aimed the flashlight toward them. He could see the names James and Claire; beside them was the name Lexie Marsh and the flowers they’d placed in front of the grave on the day before Christmas.

After leading Claire to the spot where he and Lexie had first seen the lights, he sat down and pulled his daughter onto his lap. Jeremy remembered the story Lexie had told about her parents and the nightmares she’d had as a child, and Claire, sensing something special was about to happen, barely moved.

Claire was Lexie’s daughter in more ways than he realized, for when the lights began their dance across the sky, he felt Claire leaning against him. Claire, whose great-grandmother assured her that ghosts were real, stared transfixed at the show taking place before her. It was only a feeling, but as he held her, he knew that Claire would have no more nightmares. Tonight they would end, and Claire would sleep peacefully. No, he couldn’t explain it-and later he would be proven correct-but in the last few years, he’d learned that science didn’t have all the answers.

The lights, as always, were a celestial wonder, rising and falling in spectacular fashion, and Jeremy found himself mesmerized along with his daughter. Tonight the lights seemed to last a few seconds longer than normal, and in the brightness, he could see the expression of awe on his daughter’s face.

“Is it Mama?” she finally asked. Her voice was no louder than the wind in the leaves above them.

He smiled, his throat tight. In the quiet of the night, it seemed as if they were the only two people in the world. Jeremy took a long breath, remembering Lexie, believing that she was here with them, and knowing that if he could see her now, she would be smiling with joy, content in the knowledge that her daughter and husband were going to be okay.

Yes,” he said, holding her tight. “I think she wanted to meet you.”

Table of Contents

At First Sight

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Twenty