I nodded, absorbing every word, then tensed up all over again when Harris rubbed his chin, frowning. “What is it?”
“Shiloh, I’ve been friends with your grandma for a long time,” he said. “All of us here at the station love Bibi. But we can’t let friendships interfere with doing our jobs.”
“Okay…”
“But sometimes the job becomes everything. You get a suspect in the room; he’s got a history of violence with the victim. He’s got banged up knuckles…” He shook his head. “You get excited that you nailed your perp, case closed. And nine times out of ten, you’re right. It’s Occam’s Razor: the simplest explanation is the best and almost always the truth.”
I crossed my arms, my voice low. “Not always.”
“Not always,” he agreed grimly. “As soon as I saw you come in here with Frankie Dowd, I knew. I knew this was the one time in ten that we’d made a huge fucking mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t dig deeper, especially considering what I knew about Mitch. I’m sorry about that, Shiloh.”
I swallowed hard. “Thank you, Detective Harris. But if that’s the case, I would appreciate your help now. If there’s any chance the judge believes Mikey or wants to keep Ronan where he is…”
He smiled gently. “I’ll do whatever I can.”
I left the station and went back to Rare Earth but only to secure the inventory, lock up for the day, and drive home. I parked in the garage at our house and came in through the kitchen. Antoinette, the day nurse, was making a pot of tea.
“Hey, Toni,” I said. “How’s it going over here?”
She smiled her megawatt smile. “You’re home early. Bibi’s taking a nap and—”
A playful squeal sounded from the living room. Toni grinned wider. “Someone else is not taking a nap.”
I hung up my sweater on the back of the kitchen door. “You can cut out early if you want. I’ll take it from here.”
“You sure you don’t want to steal a few winks yourself? I’m on the clock for another three hours.”
I smiled. I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to. Not then.
“Nope, I’m good.”
“You got it. This tea will keep for Bibi when she wakes up, and I think Marie said she’d be popping in later too.”
“Great. Thanks, Toni.”
I followed her to the living room where she bent down to ruffle the soft halo of baby curls on the toddler who was sitting on the floor amid a mess of toys, stacking and knocking down blocks.
“Goodbye, little man,” Toni said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Bye-bye,” he said, then spied me. His little face burst into a smile that never failed—no matter how tired I was—to warm my heart and remind me what it was all for. “Mama!”
“Hey, baby boy,” I said, the tears already flowing. I picked him up and sat with him on the couch. “Did you have a good day, today?”
He nodded, then cocked his head and touched a chubby little finger to the tear that trailed down my cheek. “Mama sad?”
“No, baby. I’m not sad. I’m happy. I’m so, so happy.”
I held my son—August Barrera-Wentz—hugging him tight as the tears fell in earnest.
“Your daddy is coming home.”
“Shiloh? Come on, honey, you gotta eat.”
I curled tighter on the bed.
“Shiloh, I’m not playing,” Bibi said. “It’s been two weeks.” She sat down, brushed the braids out of my face that were getting rough-looking. “It’s time.”
“For what?” I croaked.
“To try again.”
Just the words made me tired. It’d been two weeks since Ronan had been shipped off to San Quentin, taking my will to ‘try again’ with him.
I rolled over and sat up. “I have tried, Bibi. After Mama’s secret, I’ll never look at myself in the mirror the same way, and my shop was trashed. But I kept going. I went back to work and ‘tried again.’ Then I lost Ronan.” I shook my head. “It’s too much.”
“Now, now, giving up isn’t allowed, remember?” Bibi’s tone was firm but her hand on my shoulder was gentle. “You’ve been knocked all the way down, but it’s time to get back up and return to life.”
The idea of life without Ronan made me sick.
Literally.
I pushed off the bed and ran to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before the half a sandwich Bibi had coaxed me to eat that afternoon came back up. Kneeling at the toilet, I stared up at Bibi at the door. She stared back.
“No…” I breathed. “No, no, no…”
“Could it be?” I didn’t miss the glint of happiness in her hazy eyes.
“No. Impossible. I’m always so careful. We used condoms and I’m on the pill…”
Except that Ronan and I had stopped using condoms months ago, and I got drunk the night the shop was wrecked. I puked up everything in my system until there was nothing left. The next day I was a mess. Not thinking. I couldn’t remember taking my pill that day…
“But I slept with Ronan,” I murmured. “That I remember.” I clapped a hand to my mouth. “Oh my God…”
I pulled myself together enough to drive to the drugstore. When I came back, I locked myself in the bathroom with the little stick and waited. But I already knew. My sense of smell was insanely strong, and my stomach felt queasy whenever I stopped crying long enough to notice.
The eight minutes was up. I picked up the stick, and there was the little pink plus sign. It fell into the trash, dropped from nerveless fingers.
“Just like Mama,” I whispered.
Except I loved Ronan. The night we slept together was beautiful—a flicker of warmth in a cold storm.
Bibi was waiting on the couch. “Well?”
“I’m pregnant.”
Christ, saying the words out loud sent a shiver of fear down my spine.
Bibi smiled to herself, then scattered the cats and patted the cushion next to her. “Sit. Let’s talk.”
I dropped beside her. “There’s nothing to talk about. I can’t have this baby, Bibi. I can’t run a business and have a baby. I can’t.”
“Well, the fact that you’re talking about running your business is an improvement, since, as of three hours ago, you wouldn’t get out of bed. Already this baby is motivating you…”
“I’m serious. Ronan is gone. For ten years. He won’t even talk to me. I can’t even tell him he’s a fa—” The word stuck in my throat. “I can’t do this alone.”
“You won’t be alone.” She held up her hand. “I know, I’m an old lady, but Ronan gave you a bunch of money—”
“That I can’t bring myself to spend.”
“You can if it’s to take care of the child you two made,” she said, and that glint of happiness was back.
I shook my head. “It’s not the money, Bibi. Or the work, even. I can’t be like Mama. Keeping a baby and then resenting him or her. Making them feel worthless their entire life.”