All She Ever Wanted Part 12

The cop didn't confirm or deny it as Jake led him to the door.

"I thought Pickler spent the winters down in the Carolinas," Emma said.

"Unfortunately, she rode her broom back early this year."

Emma was torn between hatred of that wicked Ms. Pickler with her yapping dog and concern that her sister would actually leave Annabelle out in the cold. It was in the thirties, and the temperature was dropping quickly. Chelsea could not risk leaving Annabelle outside anymore.

When Jake left to get some Thai food, Emma seized the opportunity to talk with her sister.

"I hope you don't think that I'm criticizing you, but it was pretty scary pulling up here and finding Annabelle crying outside. I hope you know that it's not okay to leave the baby in the cold."

In the pale light of the living room, Chelsea's eyes glistened like blue diamonds. Was she feverish, or were those simply tears? She cried so much these days.

"I know that. I wasn't planning to leave her out, and she was only out there for a little bit. The cold air seemed to soothe her. I stepped inside for a minute, just to pee, and then I just sort of collapsed."

"Next time, just make sure she's safely locked inside before you collapse."

Chelsea nodded as a sob slipped out. "I'm so bad at this. I'm a terrible mother, a failure, and no matter how I try, it never gets any better. And it won't get any better because I can't do this. I just can't."

Emma looked down at Annie, lying on her back on the floor, reaching up at the plastic toys dangling from the portable mobile over her head. Please, don't listen to this, Annie-bananee, Emma wanted to tell her. Don't take any of it personally.

"It's all so overwhelming. Just when I think I'm starting to gain control, something else falls out of place."

"It's been hard for you," Emma said. "But you're a good mother. Look at how determined you've stayed to breast-feed. That's so good for Annie, even though you're losing sleep for it." She sat beside her sister and rubbed her back. "Do you want me to stay tonight? If you want to pump, I can do one of the feedings for you."

Chelsea took a deep breath. "No, that's okay. I'll be fine."

Emma's conscience pushed her to argue, but she really didn't want to stay. They were having a baby girl, and she wanted to spend the night at home with her husband, celebrating in their quiet way.

"I need something to drink. Some milk or herb tea or something."

"Here's milk." She handed Chelsea a small container of milk from the fridge. "And I'll make tea for both of us." She put the kettle under the sink, but when she turned the faucet on, nothing happened. "No water?"

"I had to turn it off on this side of the house. You can fill it in the bathroom under the stairs."

Emma crossed the living room with the teapot. "Sort of like camping."

Chelsea started crying again. "You're always so positive. I can't even think good thoughts anymore."

"Aw, honey . . . you'll get your positive mojo back. Let's start with that visit to Dr. Chin on Wednesday. You did get a sitter. . . ."

"That high school girl is coming. I guess she's okay during the week when the boyfriend isn't around."

"Good. See, you did get something accomplished today. I would have watched Annie for you, but I have a faculty meeting Wednesday afternoon that I just can't miss." As she pulled the dead leaves from a houseplant in the kitchen window, an old childhood memory threaded through her mind. Mom had loved flowers and plants, and she had enjoyed teaching her daughters about pruning and watering and planting seasons.

"You know, I can't take Wednesday, but I can take off tomorrow. We can do something together." She knew the perfect place to help lift Chelsea's spirits. "We need to get you and Annie out of the house."

"Don't miss work for me," Chelsea said, staring down at the milk carton. "And I have to get a plumber here tomorrow."

"Schedule him in the afternoon. We'll be back by three. And I'm happy to miss work. I have vacation days I need to take before the end of the year." There was a tap on the door, and she opened it to find Jake smiling over two plastic bags.

"The green curry noodle smells great," he said.

"Yum. Thanks for doing that." Emma smiled, happy to have a plan. She fetched flatware and plates . . . then backtracked and dug paper plates out of Chelsea's pantry to save them from was.h.i.+ng dishes in the little bathroom under the stairs. "I'll call for a sub. We're going on a field trip, and no excuses about being tired. I'll pick you and Annie up at ten."

The next morning Emma arrived at Chelsea's house to find a box of m.u.f.fins sitting on the side porch under the carport. The index card taped to the box read: GOOD NEIGHBORS HELP EACH OTHER. Hmm.

She knocked three times, then keyed her way in. "Good morning." She dropped the m.u.f.fins on the counter. "Looks like you got some homemade m.u.f.fins from one of your neighbors." When there was no answer, she stepped to the bottom of the stairs and called up. "Chelsea?"

"Almost ready!" Chelsea called back.

"Take your time. I'm going to leave these m.u.f.fins on the counter."

"m.u.f.fins? What kind?"

Emma dipped her finger in the frosting and took a taste. "Carrot with cream cheese frosting."

"Yum," Chelsea answered.

Annie's eyes seemed huge and round, framed by the fleece lining of her little hood as Chelsea carried her down the stairs.

"What an adorable snowsuit," Emma said.

"Isn't it cute? I'll save it for your baby. I'm sure Annie will be out of it by next winter."

Emma beamed. Next winter, they would have two babies in tow. Maybe they would do trips like this once or twice a week. "What time do you have to be back for the plumber?"

"Not coming until Thursday. It would have cost extra to get them here today."

"Thank G.o.d you have a second bathroom," Emma said.

Chelsea nodded. "Looks like I'll be camping out of the downstairs bathroom for a while."

On the way to the gardens, Chelsea was withdrawn and quiet, staring out the window with a bland expression. Emma hoped that her news would bring a spark of interest to her sister's eyes.

"I found out something exciting yesterday. We went for an amnio, and the technician told us she's positive we're having a girl. Another baby girl in our family."

"Is that good?" Chelsea's fingertips ran along the edge of the seat belt, as if searching for an encoded message there. "Is that what you want?"

"We want a healthy baby, but we're thrilled to know that it's a girl. And she'll be in the same grade as Annabelle. Just think about that. They can do dance cla.s.s and Girl Scouts and soccer together."

"Sometimes I can't believe those days will ever come."

"They will, honey. You said it yourself. Next winter Annabelle will have outgrown her snowsuit."

Chelsea leaned back against the headrest and took a deep breath. "You're right. Time is marching on. I have to keep up."

When Emma turned through the gates to the New York Botanical Garden, Chelsea turned toward the window. "Is this the surprise?"

"Yup. I know the weather's crummy, but the conservatory is open, along with a few of the gardens."

"I was sort of hoping for a pedicure or ma.s.sage," Chelsea said, and Emma smiled at the hint of the old, wry Chelsea.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Emma said as she leaned into the backseat to unbuckle Annabelle. The baby's face remained calm and expressionless until Emma lifted her out into the stroller.

"She never sleeps through the transfer," Chelsea said tightly.

"But she's not crying. I think she's going to like this. There's a lot to see from down there."

The steel-and-gla.s.s dome of the Haupt Conservatory, a Victorian-style greenhouse, was a sight familiar to Emma and Chelsea. Their parents had brought them here frequently as kids, and when the girls were older Judith's volunteer work had lured them here for exhibitions and concerts. Although Emma never liked getting her hands dirty in flower boxes, she had been a sucker for the other projects-the papier-mache flowers, the millions of ways you could decorate a planter. Chelsea had always been the one who liked to dig in to the soil, toss in mulch, and then skip along the trails like a fairytale character on a quest through the woods. Emma hoped that, coming here, Chelsea might reconnect with that sense of fun.

The conservatory was busier than Emma had expected. One school group was lined up in the lobby, another trailed their guide, who led them past green ferns for an eco-tour of the tropical rain forest entrance.

"Let's check out the orchid show," Emma said. "I think Annie will like the colors."

The orchid show had been designed to display the exotic blossoms vertically, instead of just in flower beds, and the walls of bountiful blooms were breathtaking.

"Look at Annie," Emma said as they paused before a fat pillar wrapped with ribbons of purple and white orchids. "She's digging it."

There was such intelligence in the baby's eyes as she soaked in the colors and textures.

Emma picked her up and turned her so that she could face out. "Such a smart little girl," she cooed into Annie's ear. "I knew you would like the flowers."

A guard standing at the end of the lane smiled at Annabelle. "Her first orchids?"

Emma nodded. "And she loves them. But that's no surprise. Her grandmother used to work here. Our mom. She was a volunteer."

The guard beamed. "Then it runs in the family."

Chelsea's gaze was fixed on white orchids speckled with maroon. "Remember how Mom used to bring us here when we were kids?"

That's why we're here . . . to unlock those memories and feelings.

Their mother had been diagnosed with stage four cancer last March, and without treatment she had been gone before the year's end. Judith Maynard's decision to refuse painful treatment didn't sit well with Chelsea, who had thought she was giving up.

"Mom loved it here," Emma said. "Remember the children's garden? In my mind, spring was never official until we came here and walked through the daffodils and crocus."

"I used to love going off on the trails here," Chelsea said. "And at home, the best time of year was when it was time to plant flowers and turn the soil."

"You were always Mom's helper in the garden."

Chelsea's face puckered with pain. "Well, that's over now. She wanted it over."

The orange and white and yellow blooms became a blur of color as Emma felt herself choking up. "Chelsea, she didn't want to die." But faced with either death or a round of painful treatment that wasn't going to save her life, Mom had made her choice.

"If she'd undergone the treatments, she would still be here," Chelsea insisted. "She would be here for me. She could have met her granddaughter. Now Annabelle will never know her . . . and I really need her."

"I miss her, too," Emma admitted, "but we can't be mad at her for dying. The treatment wouldn't have prolonged her life much. She was leaving us, and she had a right to choose to exit with speed and grace."

"She gave up." Chelsea sat down on a bench and folded her arms. "And I'll never forgive her for that. She left me here all alone with this baby that I don't feel any love for. It's her fault."

"Hold on a sec."

Chelsea watched glumly as Emma cradled Annabelle for a moment, then discreetly placed her in her stroller at the far end of the bench from Chelsea. Maybe it was an overreaction, but she didn't think Annie should hear things like that from her mother.

Emma perched tentatively beside her sister. "I know we don't talk about Mom's death, but you never had a chance to grieve. You became a mother before you had a chance to say good-bye to your own mother."

Chelsea's eyes were s.h.i.+ny with tears. "But I wanted this baby. Our little house and a little baby-that was all I ever wanted, and now . . ." She sobbed.

Emma reached her arms around her sister and squeezed her tight. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring her here today. She was no therapist.

"You've been through so much-a lifetime of pain and grief, all gummed into a few months. I know it seems hopeless right now, but that's one of the things about depression. It won't let the light in. Let's see what Dr. Chin has to say tomorrow, okay? You know I love you and I'll help you any way I can."

Chelsea sniffed. "But I hate my life."

"I know, honey." Emma tucked a strand of dark hair behind her sister's ear. "We're going to get to work on that, as soon as you see Dr. Chin."

Back at Chelsea's house, the neighbor, Louise Pickler, was out inspecting her frozen lawn as her cranky little dog wandered with no leash.

"It's the woman who ratted you out," Emma said as she pulled Chelsea's Subaru into the driveway. "Quick. Get the cheese."

Chelsea actually let out a laugh.

"Isn't there a law about keeping your dog on a leash?" Emma asked.

"Louise treats her dogs like family."

"And her family like dogs?" Emma added.

"Good one, Emma," Chelsea said as she pushed open the door.

The dog bolted over to them, and Emma stepped tentatively as it snapped at her ankles.

"ChiChi, back off," Chelsea ordered, opening the stroller. The dog growled as it tried to mouth the stroller wheels.

"Little beast," Emma muttered. She hoped to whisk Annie inside, but the neighbor was calling to Chelsea.

"Did you get a dog?" Louise accused Chelsea. The older woman stood at the edge of her lawn with her hands on her hips. "Tell me the truth, because someone's been s.h.i.+tting in my flower beds."

"It wasn't me," Chelsea said.

Emma bit her lips to hide a grin.

"I mean, no," Chelsea explained. "We don't have any animals. Just a baby."

"And that's enough." Louise marched over and leaned her gnarled face close to Annabelle. "Plenty of p.o.o.py diapers stinking up your house."

Horrified, Emma backed the stroller away. Chelsea was right: This woman was nuts. "Gotta go." She wheeled it up the driveway.