The Baby Gift

“That’s good,” Leo said, nodding. “This is the only family Nealie has. Josh has none to speak of.”

“No. He doesn’t.”

Josh had no one. He had grown up in a series of foster homes in Detroit. His mother had abandoned him when he was four, saying she was too sick to keep him. She died a year later of hepatitis. He did not know who his father was.

A difficult child, he was moved from home to home. He didn’t begin to find his way until he was fourteen, when he’d traded a stolen fifth of rum for a used camera.

No, Briana thought bitterly, Josh had no family, and why shouldn’t such a rootless boy grow up into a rootless man? The camera was his real soul mate, the great love of his life.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you and Nealie left us,” Leo said. “I guess I’d have to curl up my toes and die.”

An infinite weariness sank into Briana’s bones. “We’re not leaving. And he’s not staying. Let’s not talk about it anymore. Please.”

“Well, it bothers me,” Leo said, crushing his cap into a ball. “Every time he shows up here—every time he even phones, you moon around as if your heart’s half broke.”

“I do not.”

“And Nealie.” Leo rolled his eyes. “He goes away, and you’d think the sun had fallen out of the sky forever. It takes her days to get over it. The longer he stays, the worse she gets. So how long is he staying this time?”

“I don’t know.” That, at least, was the truth.

“Sometimes I think it’d be better if he never came at all.”

“That’s wrong. He loves her. And she loves him.”

“Indeed he does, and indeed she does. But it’s a painful thing to watch, that’s all I’m telling you,” Leo said.

“Poppa,” she said, “I understand how you feel. I really do. Just be civil to him, that’s all I ask.”

“Have I ever been less than civil?” he asked, his tone pained. “Have I ever so much as raised my voice to him? No. I even asked him to stop and stay with me. Well, he’d have none of it, and maybe it’s better.”

“Maybe it is,” she said.

He rose unsteadily to his feet. His arthritis must be bad tonight, she thought. “I’ll go,” he said, buttoning his jacket. “You’ll think me an interfering old man. It was only that I was worried. He stayed so late.”

“Not so late,” she said, coming to her father and adjusting his muffler.

He pulled on his cap. She walked him to the door. He put his hand on the knob, then leaned and kissed her brusquely on the cheek.

“Maybe this time you’ll get him out of your system,” he said. “Find a different man, a real family man. Have more children. You were never meant to have only one child, you know. That’s been my prayer many a time. To see you with another baby in your arms.”

He kissed her again and left. For a moment, she leaned against the closed door, hearing his last words echo in her head.

She put her hands over her eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

THE BEDSIDE PHONE rang, and Josh picked it up immediately.

“Hi, Daddy,” said Nealie. “I just got up. Can you come for breakfast?”

He’d been awake since dawn, waiting for this call. He was showered, shaved, dressed, had been ready for an hour to go to her. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, Panda.”

“Maybe you could take me to church.”

He set his jaw. He had never been the churchgoing sort. But he had expected this. “Sure, Panda. I’ll take you.”

“Hurry. Mama’s making something special.”

“I’ll be there in two shakes.”

“Bye, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

He hung up the phone, stood and went to the bathroom mirror. He’d tried this morning to shave off the rest of his beard. The job hadn’t been a complete success.

The upper part of his face was burned and blasted brown by the Siberian snow glare and wind. The lower part seemed city pale in contrast, and he had nicked his chin in two places and his throat in one.

He tried to adjust the collar of his white shirt to cover the scrape on his throat. He wore a black tie, as well. How long since he had worn a tie? Months. Maybe a year. Maybe more.

He put on his parka and picked up his camera case and left the spartan little room.

BRIANA’S BROTHER, Larry, was sitting in his van in the motel lot, parked next to Briana’s empty truck.

Josh swore under his breath. He knew Larry was not there by accident or coincidence. He was waiting to talk, and from his face the conversation would be grim.

Larry got out of the van slowly and deliberately. He was a big man, four inches taller than Josh’s five eleven, at least sixty pounds heavier. He wore a down jacket that made his shoulders look as wide as an ox yoke.

“Hello, Larry,” Josh said. He did not bother pretending to smile.

Neither did Larry. He wore no hat, and his curling hair was like a dull gold flame under the gray sky. “I want to have a few words with you.”

“Fine,” said Josh.

“First,” Larry said, narrowing his eyes to a squint, “I want to know what you’re doing back in Illyria.”

“I came to see my daughter.”

“If you’d stayed here, you could see her all the time,” Larry said.

That’s none of your business, you moron. But Josh tried to quench the flare of his anger. Larry was Briana’s brother, and although she knew his shortcomings, she was protective of him and loved him. He was family.

“I wish things had worked out differently,” Josh said, and this he meant.

“We all do.” Larry’s words came out in a plume like a dragon’s breath.

Josh said, “I hear your family’s growing. There’s going to be another addition. Congratulations.”

“Yeah. And my kids know one thing for sure. I’ll always be there for them. I won’t never go gallivanting off and leave them.”