Chapter 2 - The Letter in Claire’s Bag
Claire waited until Sophie was sitting beside the window with a coloring book before speaking.
“She wasn’t supposed to see anything.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“She didn’t.”
“Good.”
“But I did.”
Claire looked away.
Rachel had stepped into the hallway to give them privacy.
Noah remained inside the incubator between them like the fragile center of every sentence they were afraid to say.
Evelyn lowered her voice.
“What transfer?”
Claire rubbed both hands over her face.
“They might move him.”
“Where?”
“Children’s Medical Center downtown.”
“That’s forty minutes away.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
Claire’s silence answered first.
Evelyn felt her pulse quicken.
“Why, Claire?”
“He had two episodes last night.”
“What kind of episodes?”
“His breathing slowed.”
Evelyn stared at Noah.
“You told me he had a good night.”
“I told you he stabilized.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You were with Sophie.”
“I’m your mother.”
“And Sophie needed somebody who wasn’t falling apart.”
Evelyn flinched.
Claire immediately regretted the words.
“Mom, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
Claire looked toward Sophie.
The little girl colored carefully, but both women knew she was probably listening.
Evelyn lowered her voice further.
“What did the doctor say?”
“They have equipment downtown that gives him more support if he needs it.”
“If?”
“They don’t know yet.”
“So this might not happen.”
“It might happen today.”
Evelyn sat down.
The room seemed suddenly smaller.
Claire reached into her handbag and removed the envelope.
Inside were transfer documents, information about the receiving NICU, consent forms, and pages covered in words Evelyn did not understand.
One thing was easy to understand.
There was a signature line.
Claire had not signed it.
“Why haven’t you signed?”
“Because I’m scared.”
“Of the hospital?”
“Of everything.”
Claire looked at Noah.
“What if moving him makes things worse?”
“What if staying makes things worse?”
“I know.”
“Then what are the doctors recommending?”
“Transfer.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Then we listen to them.”
Claire’s expression hardened.
“You make it sound easy.”
“I didn’t say it was easy.”
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“You turn fear into instructions.”
Evelyn leaned back.
Claire continued before she could stop herself.
“Eat.”
“Sleep.”
“Sign.”
“Go.”
“Stay.”
“You always know what everyone should do.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“I know.”
Claire’s voice broke.
“But I don’t know how to be the mother of a baby I’m afraid to touch.”
Evelyn said nothing.
Claire looked down at her hands.
“The first time the nurse asked if I wanted to put my hand inside the incubator, I said no.”
“That’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I was scared I’d hurt him.”
“That makes you careful.”
“It made me a coward.”
“No.”
Claire’s eyes filled.
“I’m his mother, and Sophie is braver with him than I am.”
Across the room, Sophie quietly stopped coloring.
Evelyn noticed.
Claire did not.
“She walks right up to him.”
“She asks questions.”
“She puts her hand on the glass.”
“And I sit here wondering if he knows I’m afraid.”
Evelyn leaned forward.
“Claire.”
“I should have protected him.”
“You didn’t cause this.”
Claire looked at her sharply.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No.”
The word came out too quickly.
Evelyn heard it.
There was more.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Claire stared at the floor.
Sophie’s crayon slipped from her fingers.
It rolled beneath the chair.
Claire whispered.
“The night I went into labor, I was driving.”
Evelyn frowned.
“You told me you were home.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Where were you going?”
Claire’s eyes closed.
“To see Ben.”
The name seemed to change the temperature of the room.
Evelyn’s jaw tightened.
Ben.
Claire’s husband.
Noah and Sophie’s father.
The man who had not appeared once since the premature birth.
The man Evelyn had stopped asking about because every time she did, Claire looked as though someone had struck her.
“You said he was out of town.”
“He was.”
“So where were you driving?”
“To the airport.”
“Why?”
“He called me.”
Evelyn stared at her daughter.
“He called?”
Claire nodded.
“He said he was coming home.”
“When?”
“The night Noah was born.”
Evelyn looked toward the incubator.
Then back at Claire.
“You told me he hadn’t called in three weeks.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t know if he meant it.”
“Meant what?”
“That he wanted to come back.”
Evelyn stood abruptly.
Sophie looked over.
“Grandma?”
Evelyn forced herself to sit again.
Claire pressed her fingers against her temples.
“Ben and I had been fighting for months.”
“I know.”
“No, you knew part of it.”
“What part didn’t I know?”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“That I told him to leave.”
Evelyn froze.
Claire continued.
“He didn’t walk out on us.”
“I told him to go.”
“Why?”
“Because every conversation became a fight.”
“About the baby?”
“About money.”
“Work.”
“The house.”
“His travel.”
“My pregnancy.”
“Everything.”
“He said I was shutting him out.”
“I said he was never there.”
“And then one night I told him if he wanted distance so badly, he should take it.”
“So he did?”
“For five days.”
Claire’s voice softened.
“Then he called.”
“He said he’d made a mistake.”
“He said he was flying back.”
“I got in the car to pick him up.”
“And halfway there, the contractions started.”
Evelyn’s anger faltered.
“Was there an accident?”
“No.”
“I pulled over.”
“I called emergency services.”
“And then I called you.”
Evelyn remembered Claire’s voice.
Terrified.
Breathless.
“I thought I was losing him.”
Claire stared at Noah.
“And now I can’t stop thinking maybe if I’d stayed home, maybe if I hadn’t gotten in that car, maybe if Ben and I hadn’t—”
“Stop.”
Claire looked at her.
“Stop that right now.”
“You don’t know.”
“Neither do you.”
Evelyn took her hand.
“So you don’t get to convict yourself with guesses.”
Claire started crying quietly.
Sophie rose from her chair.
She crossed the room and wrapped both arms around her mother’s waist.
Claire looked startled.
“How much did you hear?”
“All of it.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Sophie.”
“Daddy was coming home?”
Claire could not answer.
Evelyn looked away.
Sophie’s face changed.
Hope appeared first.
Then confusion.
“Where is he?”
Claire whispered.
“I don’t know.”
Before anyone could say another word, a doctor appeared in the doorway.
“Claire?”
She stood.
The doctor held a folder.
“We need to make a decision about Noah.”
Claire looked at the unsigned transfer papers.
Then at her son.
May you like
Then at Sophie.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the pen.
