And clearly she was wide awake and in no hurry to go back to sleep.
“That’s your uncle Seth. Remember him? Here, can you hold her while I get us some tea?”
Seth took his niece without protest. He’d held her enough times not to freak out, although he still couldn’t believe how tiny she was. How fragile. Gazing down at her now, he took in her long, dark eyelashes and her rosebud mouth. He traced a finger along her forehead, which made her coo. She’d been making eye contact more and more and working on lifting up her head.
Before long she’d be a teenager and sneaking out of the house to meet her boyfriend.
Seth’s stomach turned. No way is any boy getting close to my niece, he vowed.
He let Bea hold his finger, which she quite happily gnawed on. Lizzie came back with tea for them both.
“You’re going to get baby slobber all over you doing that,” she warned, smiling. “We think she has a tooth coming in.”
“Isn’t she young for that?”
“Now you’re Mr. Baby Expert? Yeah, it’s early, but she wants to chew everything.”
Seth smiled. “Sounds like a puppy.”
They chatted, Lizzie telling him about her album sales, how Terry, her producer, wanted her to go on tour later that year but that she didn’t know how to do that except to take Bea with her.
“Even by December I’ll still be nursing her, at least on and off. And I’m not going to leave my kid behind for months on end. No way.”
Seth didn’t respond to the nursing remark. He’d learned all he ever needed to know about breastfeeding during one visit when Bea had kept kicking the blanket Lizzie had placed over her to give them both some privacy during a feeding.
“But I’ve been writing even more than usual, so that’s good. Now that I’m getting some sleep and Bea has more of a schedule, I can think about other things besides baby, baby, baby.” Lizzie tickled Bea under her chin, which made her gurgle.
“Are you happy, Lizard?” Seth asked suddenly. He’d seen his sister at her lowest, at her most brokenhearted, and sometimes he struggled to believe she’d overcome it all.
“Of course I am. I mean, I’m tired and I wish Trent would put the toilet paper roll on correctly and not leave beard hairs in the bathroom sink, but that’s life. I’m so grateful we found each other again. And made this little booger.”
Lizzie scooped up Bea, giving her kisses on her chubby cheeks.
“She’s pretty cute,” Seth allowed.
“You hear that, Bea-Bea? Your uncle thinks you’re ‘pretty cute.’ I think you’re adorable, but he’s a silly boy, so we’ll let it slide.”
When Bea started to fuss, Lizzie had Seth hand her a blanket nearby before starting to nurse, already getting over any self-consciousness that she might have had when she’d first started breastfeeding. It all seemed so normal that Seth felt guilty feeling a bit awkward about it all.
Then again, this was his sister. There were some things you didn’t think about in regard to your siblings.
“Tell me what you’re doing. And don’t tell me that all you do is go to the lake, or walk around, or stare at the wall.” Lizzie wagged a finger.
“I’m doing some woodworking, got a commission for a dining room table. Alan wants me to work with him full-time.”
Alan Devinson was a middle-aged man who’d owned a small carpentry business for two decades, and he’d actually taught the woodworking class when Seth was in high school. Seth had taken to woodworking, but he’d been out of practice for so many years he hadn’t been sure if he could make himself truly useful.
After some practice, though, the movements, the skills, the feeling of the different types of wood in his hands had returned to him. He was far from Alan’s ability, but Alan recognized talent when he saw it.
“That’s great! See, I told you it’d be worth trying out again. You were so good at it in high school.”
He smiled. “High school was a long time ago.”
“Was it? I mean, yes, it was, but we aren’t that old. Sometimes I wonder if you’re just an old man stuck in a twenty-seven-year-old’s body.”
“If I am, it’s because you sucked out all of my energy.”
That resulted in a small tiff, with Lizzie writing a list of every stupid thing Seth had ever done while Seth started his own list about Lizzie. By the time Trent came home, Lizzie was in the lead for Stupid Things She’d Done.
“Do you see this? What kind of a brother creates a list like this?”
She gave Trent the list, rolling her eyes. Bea had nodded off in her arms, but at the sound of her father’s voice, her eyelids fluttered.
“Wait, why is ‘dating Trent’ on the list of stupid things?” Trent asked.
“Because it was stupid,” said Seth.
The trio bantered, Trent and Seth ribbing each other, Lizzie rolling her eyes the entire time. Trent finally got up, kissed his wife’s cheek, and said he’d be out back.
Lizzie turned her attention back to Seth, and when he saw the serious look in her eyes, he braced himself.
“You know how worried I am about you,” she said quietly. “I’m glad to see you doing something, but is it enough?”
“Do we need to keep having this conversation?”
“Yes, until you give me a good answer.” Her eyes creased. “What about a family, Seth? Are you going to be alone forever?”
“Trying to play matchmaker?” he quipped.
“Maybe. I mean, you don’t have to get married to be happy, but you’ve never been a loner until you came back from your last tour. I just worry, that’s all.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about Rose, but that would only lead to more questions. He’d asked Rose out for drinks; that didn’t mean marriage and babies. But Lizzie would get overly excited, and when things ended, she’d just be disappointed.
Better to keep his mouth shut.
Or you just don’t want to admit that Rose shot you down and probably will if you ask her again.
That, too.
Seth stayed for dinner, and Lizzie kept adding to his list of Stupid Things, Trent contributing where he could. After they’d eaten, Seth kissed his niece goodbye, let Lizzie hug him, and took the long way back to his apartment. The moon was full, and he meandered, letting his mind go.
When he got home, the quiet of the night was soon shattered when he heard banging next door, then someone slamming a door. Listening more closely, he realized it was coming from Rose’s apartment. His other neighbors were an elderly husband and wife who went to sleep at eight o’clock every evening.
He waited, listening. When he heard another noise, he left his apartment. Knocking on her door, he called, “Rose? Rose, are you okay?”
He expected an unhappy Rose, or maybe a tearful one.
One thing he didn’t expect?
Seeing Rose open the door and point a gun straight at him.
Rose yawned as she walked up to her apartment. It had been a long shift: first one patron had complained about his steak being first too rare, then too overdone before giving Rose all of one dollar as a tip. Then another patron had decided to pay in spare change, forcing Rose to count out ten dollars’ worth of quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies. By the time her shift had ended, she’d been dead on her feet. Even Trent had said she looked exhausted and had ordered her to go home.