LITMIR.BIZ

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said slowly, “What was it John Lennon once said? ‘Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’”

      “Or while you’re in a coma,” she drawled.

      “Yeah, then, too.”

      Tentatively, they both smiled, and something kicked inside him. He had a couple of memories that were like yesterday to him, too. Her passion in bed, almost fierce, as if in lovemaking, too, she had to prove her own strength, had to fight against the wrong preconceptions. Her saucy grin when she undressed. And his ambivalence.

      He really, seriously, hadn’t known if it was a good idea to take her to bed that first time, even though she said she wanted it, and said she understood there was no long-term, and no promises, and that was fine. He’d told himself a couple of times their first night that he would stop kissing her soon, that he would reach out and still her hands if she went to pull off her clothes.

      But then she’d done it. Crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her top to show a hot-pink bra and neat, tight breasts. Shimmied her way out of her skirt. Grinned at him.

      And there’d been no question of stopping after that point. He’d used protection, but—not to get technical, or anything—maybe applied it just a little too late.

      “But the dates don’t fit,” she said suddenly. “She’s too old. She’s smiling. Lucy isn’t.”

      “Because DJ was premature,” he explained again. “Healthy preemies learn to smile at the same age after birth as full-term babies, even if they’re smaller and a little slower in other areas. DJ and Lucy would have been born within a week or two of each other, if DJ had come at the right time. The doctors say it’s good that she didn’t. It was easier on your body that she was little, and early. Would you like to hold her?”

      He asked it before he thought. Blame Lucy for that. Jodie had looked so happy and comfortable holding her tiny niece today.

      DJ was different. DJ had baggage.

      Jodie stiffened and stammered. “No, she’s—she’s—N-not yet, when she’s asleep. If I disturbed her and she cried …”

      “It’s fine. We’ll transfer her in the sling. It’ll be easy, I promise.” Listen to him! Five minutes ago, he’d been scared about the strength of her maternal feelings and what they might do to his own connection with his child. Now he was trying to rush her into them. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

      Which was weird and unpleasant, because he always knew what he wanted.

      Her weakened left hand made a claw shape on her thigh. “No. No, I can’t. I just can’t.”

      Jodie heard the note of panic in her own voice, but there was nothing she could do about it. The panic was there. She couldn’t explain it to Dev. Couldn’t even explain it to herself. But there was a huge, massive chasm of a difference between holding and clucking over Maddy’s little Lucy and holding this baby.

      My baby. Half an hour ago, I didn’t know she existed. But she’s mine.

      It was overwhelming.

      It should have been wonderful. A miracle.

      Dev loves her. I can see it.

      But it didn’t feel wonderful, it felt terrifying.

      Thank heaven Dev loves her, because I don’t.

      No. No! She had to love her own child! She did. Of course she did.

      But why couldn’t she feel it? Why wasn’t it kicking in at once, the way it had with Elin and Lisa and Maddy and all the other normal mothers in the world, the very first moment they looked at their babies? Dev clearly expected it to, with his urging that DJ would be safe in her arms. It wasn’t a question of safety. Why could she feel so tender toward Lucy today, and yet so distant and scared about this baby?

      Scared? A surge of strength hit her. She wasn’t in the habit of giving in to scared. She took in a breath to tell him that she would hold the baby after all. And she would have reached out her hands before the words came, except they were a little slow to respond to her brain’s signal and she had to make an extra effort.

      But before either the movement or the words could happen, Dev accepted her refusal, gave her an easy excuse. “You’re tired,” he said. He let out a breath that might have been partly relief, as if maybe he’d doubted the strength and coordination in her arms more than he’d let on. “We should wait a little.”

      She almost argued.

      Almost.

      But, oh, he was right, she was tired, and she’d tried so hard to stay on top of everything today. She let it go, and watched him tiptoe to the infant car carrier sitting in the corner of the living room and lay the baby down, easing his forearm out from beneath her little head with a movement so practiced and gentle it almost broke her heart.

      “Very tired,” she managed to respond. “I’m sorry.” I’m so sorry, DJ.

      “Don’t beat yourself up.” The baby stirred a little, but didn’t waken.

      “I—I—” Did he know? Did he understand the extent of her panic?

      “Let’s take it slow. It’s okay.”

      “Thanks. Yes.”

      She heard a car in the driveway, and footsteps and the voices of Elin and Mom. Dev lunged for the door before they could knock. He held it open and stood with the width of his body shielding the room from their view.

      Mom said, “Is she still here?”

      “Yes, but why are you here, Barb? I asked you very clearly to—”

      “I’m sorry, we just couldn’t—I’m sorry.” This was Elin, clearly reading his anger. “We have a right to be involved in this, too, don’t we? DJ is ours, too. We all care so much.”

      “You’d better come in.”

      “Thank you,” said Mom, in a crisp voice.

      “I really think it’s best, Devlin.” This was Elin, in a softer tone.

      “We are as involved in all of this as you are.” Mom again.

      They dropped at once to sit on either side of Jodie on the couch, their voices running over her along with their hands, all of it a jumble that she heard at two steps removed, like recorded voices or lines from a half-remembered play. Honey, are you okay? Obviously you know. Obviously there’s so much to talk through. That’s why we wanted to wait until you were ready. What has Dev said, so far?

      “You barely gave me time to say anything,” he said.

      “Listen, it’s not as if any of us have had any experience with a situation like this, Devlin,” Elin said.

      “Shh … keep your voice down, can you?”

      “Sorry … sorry.” Elin glanced over at the baby and looked surprised. “You have her in the car carrier?”

      “She seems to sleep better in there, during the day.”

      “Well, then, I guess …” But I never did that with my babies, was the implication.

      “She’s fine. She wouldn’t sleep so peacefully if she was uncomfortable there.”

      “If you say so.”

      Both Devlin and Elin were holding it together with difficulty, and Mom looked trapped and unhappy, her mouth open as if she wanted to speak, although no words came.

      Jodie slumped against the back of the couch. She’d started to shake. Could they feel it? She felt more tired than she’d ever felt in her life, and her lips had gone dry. She closed her eyes, willing this chaos of family and tension and questioning to … just … stop.

      “Should

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