Part 4
Daniel did not follow her to Harbor House.
For two days he did not call. On the third, he sent one message.
I told Logan I had no authority to speak for you. I will not contact him again. Your room remains yours under the agreement. I am sorry.
There was no request for forgiveness and no warning about what might happen without him.
Mara read the message several times.
Four days later, she called.
“I’m going to see Denise on Saturday,” she said. “I need a ride.”
“I’ll take you.”
“You wait outside the room.”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t talk to Logan unless I ask you to.”
“I understand.”
Daniel arrived at Harbor House exactly when he said he would. He stayed in the car until Mara came out with Owen’s carrier. He did not ask whether she was returning to his house afterward.
The rehabilitation hospital occupied a low brick building north of Cincinnati. Daniel carried the carrier through the parking lot but handed it back before they entered. In the lobby, Mara pointed to a row of chairs beside a vending machine.
“Here.”
He sat down.
Logan waited outside his mother’s room. He looked thinner than Mara remembered. The dimples were still there, but they no longer made him look harmless.
“Thank you for coming,” he said.
“I came for your mother.”
Denise lay propped against several pillows. The stroke had pulled one side of her mouth downward and left her right hand motionless on the blanket. On a chair beside the bed sat Mara’s old green duffel bag.
Denise followed Mara’s gaze.
“I brought it back inside,” she said slowly. “After you left.”
Mara set Owen’s carrier near the foot of the bed but kept the cover partly drawn.
“The bank kept calling,” Denise said. Each sentence required effort. “Logan had no job. I was scared, and I looked at you and saw… another mouth. Another bill.”
Logan shifted near the window.
Denise swallowed. “I put you outside. Pregnant. I did that.”
Mara could still see the bag on the porch, one strap lying in a puddle. Denise had watched from behind the screen door while Logan refused to look at her.
“I can’t tell you I forgive you,” Mara said.
“I know.”
“I came because I wanted you to say it while I could hear you.”
Denise nodded. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she did not ask Mara to comfort her.
Mara opened the duffel. Her high school diploma was inside, still in its cardboard folder. So was a gray sweater, two paperback novels, and the photograph of Ruth and Mara taken at the church Christmas dinner.
She closed the bag.
Logan followed her into the corridor.
“I called the county office,” he said. “I have an appointment to establish paternity. I’m working at the distribution center now. Nights.”
“That doesn’t erase what happened.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying you know when you’re only beginning to find out.”
He looked toward Owen’s carrier. “Can I see him?”
“Not today.”
Logan flinched, but he did not argue.
“If the test confirms you’re his father, visits start at a family center,” Mara said. “Supervised. You go through the proper process for support and parenting time. You don’t come to the house. You don’t call ten times because I don’t answer once.”
“I can do that.”
“You can say that. Whether you can do it will take time.”
“What about us?”
“There is no us.”
The answer hurt him. Mara saw it, and seeing it did not change the answer.
At the end of the corridor, Daniel rose from his chair. He did not approach.
Logan noticed him. “Must be nice,” he muttered. “A doctor shows up, gives you a house, and suddenly I’m the only bad person in the story.”
Mara stopped.
“My father made a bad choice last week. I left his house because of it.”
Daniel remained where he was.
“And now?” Logan asked.
“Now he’s waiting for me to tell him what I need.”
Logan looked from Mara to Daniel.
“I am trying,” he said.
“Then show up for the appointment.”
He stepped aside.
Mara lifted Owen’s carrier. Daniel took one step forward, then stopped again.
“Stand beside me,” she said.
He did.
They walked through the lobby without Daniel asking what had been said in the room. At the car, he secured Owen’s carrier and checked the buckle twice. Mara let him.
Halfway home, she spoke.
“You never touch my phone again.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t threaten people for me.”
“No.”
“And Logan follows the conditions I set, not yours.”
“Yes.”
Mara watched the wet fields pass beyond the window.
“I’m not promising I’ll stay six months.”
“The agreement never said you had to.”
When they reached Daniel’s house, he carried the duffel to the front step. Then he took the key Mara had left on his kitchen table from his pocket and held it out.
“The same lock?” she asked.
“The same lock. The same agreement.”
Mara untied the blue cord from her wrist and threaded the key beside the silver wren. It struck the little bird with a bright, ordinary click.
Owen began to fuss. Daniel held out his arms but waited.
“Take him,” Mara said.
Daniel lifted his grandson from the carrier.
Mara unlocked the door herself.