“Yes,” I say. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”
“We even have a toy our Abby brought to Rockton,” Dalton says. “It’s butt-ugly, but it meant a lot to her, and there’s no family to give it back to. That and a necklace. You’re welcome to take those. You can tell her about the girl she was named after.”
Sidra’s face glows. “Are you sure?”
“We’re sure.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
* * *
Sidra, Baptiste, and Abby are gone. It doesn’t matter that I never met Abbygail, the joy of handing over her toy and necklace will stay with me for a long time. They will be treasured, as they deserve to be. Giving her name to this baby is even more satisfying, not only to honor the girl who first carried it, but because, in an odd way, it helps me, as if something of the baby’s visit here remains with her, even as she leaves.
Dalton and Storm walk with them for a bit. While they’re gone, I hurry out to tell Kenny where I want the hot tub and ask if they can set it up later while I distract Dalton. I swing by the bakery and grab two dozen holiday cookies before they open their doors to the waiting line. I hand out the first dozen to those waiting, promise I’ll see them all tonight at the big bonfire celebration. Then I go home.
The moment Dalton walks into the house, I say, “I am so sorry.”
“For what?” he says as he walks into the living room, where I’m waiting with coffee and cookies.
“Being a complete and utter selfish bitch. I avoided you last night because I was dealing with Abby leaving. But I’m not the only one affected, and I ignored that. I made it all about me. It wasn’t.”
He sinks onto the sofa and tugs me down beside him. “I understood. And I think it was harder for you. You bonded with her. Me?” He tilts his head. “I’d have kept her. Happily kept her. But for me she was more of a…”
He purses his lips. “She was a glimpse of something else. A vision of a possibility I never really considered. Not just a baby, but a baby with you. A family that’s more than you and me. After having Abby here, yeah, I can see that for us, and I think I want it. Except…”
He goes quiet, uncomfortably quiet, scratching at his beard.
“Go on.”
He sneaks a peek my way.
“Eric? Talk. Tell me what you’re thinking. If what you want isn’t what I want, we’ll discuss that. I’d never hold it against you.”
“I like the vision I saw,” he says. “If Abby needed a father, I’d be that for her. But since she doesn’t, I’m just … I’m in no hurry. I…” Another glance snuck my way. “I’m not sure I’m ready to share you just yet.”
“And I am thrilled to hear that, because I’m not ready to share you either. As much as I loved seeing you with Abby, part of me wants you all to myself for a little longer.”
He nods. It’s not the decisive nod I expect, though, and I say, “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Not about this. Yeah, I’d like a kid someday. But yeah, I want more time with just us. Seeing Sidra and Baptiste though…” A deep breath. “It brought back a lot of memories. They reminded me of my parents. Memories of them I didn’t even think I still had. How they looked at each other, how they looked at Jacob. How they looked at…” Another scratch of his beard as he shrugs.
“How they looked at you.”
He nods. “Those kids and that baby, they’re a family, and I had that kind of family.”
“A lot of hope,” I say. “A lot of love.”
His eyes glisten, and he blinks hard with a thick, “Yeah. I need to face that. Remember it. Deal with it.” He looks at me. “Talk about it.”
“I’m here whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready,” he says. “Maybe not for a baby, but I’m ready for this.”
“Then I’m ready to listen.”