Baby Doll(8)

He hesitated. Lily stepped forward, still clutching the knife. He held up his hands in surrender. “I’m going. I’m going. I just… I need my stuff.” He turned and disappeared up the stairs.

“Ma’am, please, can you hear me? Is everything okay?” Eve remembered the operator was still on the phone.

“Please just send officers as soon as you can. And tell Sheriff Rogers to come to the Riser house. Please.”

“We’ve got units on the way. Stay on the line…”

Eve ignored her and hung up the phone. She slowly moved toward Lily, stopping inches from the outstretched knife.

“I know you’re scared, Lil. But the police are coming. You’re safe. We’ll keep you safe.”

“You can’t promise that. You can’t.”

Eve couldn’t argue with her daughter. She didn’t know where Lily had been or what she was running from. She didn’t know anything. Eve searched for the right thing to say to her delicate, wounded child. But words failed her.

“Who is he? Who is that man?” Lily asked, still glancing up at the landing.

“He’s no one. He’s nothing.”

“Where is Dad? Did you two split up? Where is he, Mom? Where is my father?”

Eve both hated Dave and ached for him.

“I’ll tell you everything, but you have to put down the knife. Please, Lily, you’re scaring the baby. Give me the knife.”

“Where’s Daddy?” Lily asked again, her voice raw with desperation.

Eve wondered if words could actually pierce one’s heart. Abby was Mama’s girl, or at least she used to be. But from day one Lily was Daddy’s girl. Anytime Lily had a bad dream or a tummy ache, it was Dave to the rescue.

“He’s gone. I’m so sorry, but Dad is gone.”

“I don’t understand. Is he at the hospital? Call him. Tell him to come home. Tell him I’m here.”

“He died, Lily. A few months after you left. He suffered a massive heart attack and died.”

Lily reacted as if she’d been punched in the chest, doubling over, a sob exploding from her mouth. She dropped the knife, and it clattered to the floor. Lily leaned against the sofa. Her outburst horrified the child, who tugged desperately at her mother.

“Mommy, don’t cry. Please. We’ll get in trouble. Please… stop it. Stop crying. Please!”

Lily seemed to understand her daughter’s pleas. She stopped crying, almost instantly, sucking in large drafts of air. She slumped to the floor and pulled the child onto her lap. She began to rock her, swaying back and forth, her words indecipherable to Eve, almost gibberish. Eve grabbed the knife, setting it on one of the end tables, and then lowered herself next to Lily and Sky, the three of them huddled together on the cold kitchen tile.

Eve needed to calm Lily, so she focused on the child.

“Lily, is this your daughter?”

Lily stared straight ahead, still trying to process the news about her father. She gave Eve a weak nod. “Yes. This is Sky. She’s six. Sky, this is my mother. She’s your grandmother.”

Sky kept her face buried in Lily’s shoulder. Eve still couldn’t believe it. This was her granddaughter. She had a granddaughter.

“She’s beautiful, Lil. Just like her mom.” Eve meant it too. They were both so lovely. Light was streaming through the kitchen window signaling that it was morning. An hour ago, Eve would never have noticed the sunrise. She hated mornings, the dawning of a new day without Lily. But today everything was bright and clear, as if she were waking from an eight-year slumber.

“It’s your mom, Lilypad,” Eve said, her voice low and steady. “It’s your mom. I know your heart is broken over Daddy. Mine is too. It’s just… he loved you so much. I think he loved you too much. And I know you’re scared but I’m here, Lil. I’m right here.”

Eve held Lily’s gaze, watching as Lily lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders in an outward show of courage. So brave, Eve thought. Her brave, brave girl. Lily took Eve’s hand and clutched it tightly, staring down at their intertwined fingers.

Without warning, Lily wrapped her arms around Eve’s neck and hugged her again, her grip so tight she thought her ribs might break.

So be it, she thought. Eve melted into Lily’s arms. All those moments she’d forced herself to forget: Lily, eight months old as she tentatively crawled across the living room carpet, keeping pace with Abby by her side. Lily as a teenager—no longer awkward and gangly but a gifted athlete. Lily and Abby, making a mess as they baked cookies, arguing over who got to eat the last of the batter. Eve remembered seeing Lily that last morning, her backpack slung over her shoulder, munching on a Pop-Tart. So tan and full of enthusiasm, she’d waved good-bye and disappeared out the front door. Disappeared from their lives. And now here they were, inches away from each other, as if no time had passed at all. Neither one of them moved, not even when they heard the front door open as the nameless man slipped out of Eve’s house.

Eve waited, fighting the shame, and then she knew she needed to get moving. The police were coming and she still had Abby to think about. She hated to leave Lily again but she had no choice. She stood up.

“I’ll be right back, Lil. Stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

Eve grabbed the cordless phone and went into the dining room, still keeping an eye on Lily. She kept her voice low and nervously dialed, her fingers so clumsy she had to redial twice. Wes picked up his cell phone after two rings. Eve didn’t even wait for him to say hello.