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She stroked Emma’s head soothingly, letting her snuggle. In this moment, she and Emma had a bond. They’d both lost a part of their lives they’d wanted. Emma had lost her mother. Grace would never give birth to a child. Smoothing Emma’s brow, Grace whispered into her curls, “Emma, this room was decorated for a little girl just like you.”
Emma leaned back in her arms. “Like me?” she asked, a quizzical expression on her face.
“Yes. Your dad and I wanted a baby just like you.”
“Did you have one?” Emma whispered, her eyes wide ovals of deep blue.
“No. We didn’t. But now you are here,” Grace said, looking directly into the toddler’s eyes, feeling a sudden sense of finding something for the very first time.
“I’m staying here,” Emma said.
“You are. For sure.”
“Will you be here?”
She didn’t know how to answer Emma, but in her heart, she knew that more than anything she wanted to be here with this wonderful little person. “Would you like that?”
Emma’s eyes darkened. “Lisa is here, but she’s not staying very long,” she said.
How does she know that? Has she overheard a conversation between Aidan and Lisa?
“Emma, there will always be people who love you even when they can’t be with you,” Grace said, her heart pounding in dread. Emma had to be tired. And tired children could get upset very easily. She didn’t want Emma to be afraid that she might be left alone by yet another person. How could Lisa even think about not staying here with this little girl? “Your dad loves you very much. He will always be here for you.”
“My mommy is gone. She’s in heaven with the angels,” Emma said, a forlorn look on her face.
Life was so unfair. “Yes, your mommy is with the angels and you can pray for her whenever you like. I’m certain she’s looking down on you and loving you from heaven.”
Emma gave a long sigh and snuggled closer.
Grace held Emma in her arms as gently and lovingly as she could, and decided that whatever it took, she would try to work out her differences with Aidan. It would take time, but it was worth the effort. Not just for Aidan or for her, but for this wonderful little girl so in need of love and reassurance. She kissed the top of Emma’s head. “Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll make you the best peanut butter sandwich you ever had.”
“Better than Mommy’s?” Emma asked, her face turned up to Grace’s.
Looking into the child’s eyes, she was reminded how fragile life could be. A car accident, a few seconds of distraction or misjudgment had forever altered this little girl’s life. “No. Not better than your mommy’s. Nobody could do it better than she did,” Grace said as she took Emma’s hand and led her down the stairs. She hadn’t grabbed the pile of fabric she’d wanted, but it didn’t really matter at the moment. All she wanted to do was to keep Emma from being sad.
“No. Mommy’s sandwiches were really, really good,” Emma said as she hopped down each step while still holding on to Grace’s hand. It was a bumpy trip down the stairs, and when they reached the bottom, Aidan was waiting.
“Want to join us in the kitchen? I’m making peanut butter sandwiches for Emma and me,” she said to him, watching his eyes search her face, warming her heart.
“I’ll make them,” Emma called out as she moved ahead of Grace.
“You know how to do that?” Grace asked, her eyes still focused on Aidan.
“Of course! Mommy showed me,” Emma said proudly, her tiny chin tucked into her chest.
Grace and Aidan shrugged at each other. “Well, Grace, I guess it’s time for us to see what sort of culinary skills Emma has,” he said with a smile as they followed Emma down the hall toward the kitchen.
