Kitabı oku: «Baby, Baby», sayfa 3
“Yes,” she said, surprised he’d recall such a mundane thing. “Too much straight caffeine gives me jitters. Today, especially, I’ve got enough acid running in my stomach to charge a battery.”
Michael gazed at her over the rim of his cup. “I’m sorry so much has fallen on your shoulders, Faith. How is Dwight handling Lacy’s death? Has he been any help, or are you having problems there, too?”
She perched on the edge of one of the three chairs someone had arranged in a triangle around the coffee table, and clutched the hot cup to warm her suddenly cold fingers. “I tried telling Dad we’d lost Lacy. He got it all mixed up in his mind and thought I was talking about Mother. The doctor had to sedate him. I decided there wasn’t any sense in putting him through the grief of attending her service.”
“What about your aunt Lorraine?”
“Still on the mission field in Tanzania. When things calm down, I’ll write her a letter. Or perhaps I should try calling her via the field office. But maybe it’s pointless to worry her when she can’t come.” She broke off abruptly. “Why this pretended concern, Michael? Your obligations to the Hyatt family ended when the divorce was final. By the way, exactly when was that?”
“July.” Michael shifted his gaze to Kipp Fielding. “The divorce wasn’t my idea. Lacy filed in January while I was on a medical mission to Norway. I phoned her at the beach house to ask her to reconsider. She refused to talk, and said she had company. It was too late, anyway—she’d already filed the papers. That was January fifth. Two days later, divorce papers arrived by courier at my hotel.” He massaged the back of his neck. “I might have convinced her to drop the request if I’d been able to make it home the next week as I’d originally planned. But we ran into complications with the transplant and I couldn’t leave Norway until much later. By then, her lawyer and mine had pretty much settled the particulars. Mine said I shouldn’t contest. He said she was seeing someone else.”
“That would be you,” Faith said testily, her soft brown gaze hardening as she pinned it on Kipp.
“Yes, it would,” he returned without a hint of shame.
Faith’s gaze never wavered. “I guess you forgot you had a wife.”
“Shelby and I separated before Thanksgiving. I assumed she intended to get a divorce—not that it’s your business. Having spent the holidays alone, I felt at loose ends. Lacy was lonely, too.” His lip curled slightly. “She said she was on her own a lot. Her husband devoted his life to his career.” Meeting Michael’s angry glare, Kipp continued speaking to Faith. “Lacy hadn’t been out with her husband in months. She’d never been sailing. Had never dug for clams. You’d have thought I’d given her diamonds when I bought her flowers. If ever a woman had been neglected, it was Lacy Cameron.”
Michael clenched a hand in the front of Kipp’s shirt. “Damn you, Fielding! I didn’t neglect my wife.”
“That’s enough.” Faith pulled a tissue from her handbag and mopped up the coffee Michael had spilled when he vaulted from his chair. Their macho posturing irritated her so much she forgot to be shy. “Lacy did feel you were obsessed with work, Michael. But Kipp, although you treated her like a queen for a few weeks, that hardly makes up for concealing the fact that you were married.”
The men gaped at Faith’s furious scrubbing. They both frowned, and Michael recognized the anger in her movements as she wielded the tissue. The table was more than polished to a shine when she finished.
Michael broke the silence first. “Lacy had all of my heart and as much of my time as I was able to give.” If he sounded hurt, he thought dully, it was because he still had his moments. “I took an oath to heal.” He thought Faith should understand that, even if Lacy had somehow forgotten.
Getting to her feet, Faith tossed the sodden tissue into the trash. While she was up, she dug in her purse again and removed the copies she’d made of the custody agreement. She shoved one into each man’s hand. “What drove either of you to do what you did doesn’t make any difference to Lacy now. In seeking love, my sister obviously made some bad choices. Maybe even selfish ones. But in the end, her decisions weren’t selfish. No matter how difficult it was for her to breathe when she was admitted, her focus was on the life that had been created within her.”
“Custody papers?” Kipp skimmed through the stapled packet. “She can’t do this. Her babies have a father.” The man scowled openly at Faith. “You just admitted that Lacy was in distress during her last hours. Any attorney worth his salt will prove you coerced her into signing these. Not only that, who witnessed your signatures?”
“I didn’t instigate this agreement. Lacy brought it with her, Mr. Fielding. If there was duress involved in the signing, it was directed toward me. Lacy refused all treatment except oxygen until I not only signed the forms but mailed them to her lawyer. If you’ll check closely, on page three she acknowledges my signature. And someone notarized each line Lacy endorsed.”
Faith wasn’t about to tell them Lacy’s witness signature had already been in place when she herself signed the document. That didn’t change the facts. Lacy had watched her sign. Most importantly, the agreement represented her wishes.
A range of emotions flitted across Michael Cameron’s face as he read the document from start to finish. Sadness. Longing. Grief. But Faith didn’t see anything like resignation as he folded the papers and tucked them into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. While his eyes darkened sympathetically, his jaw remained tensed, his posture determined—as though they’d entered a fight ring and the bell had rung.
Fielding drained his cup and thumped it back onto the tray. Wadding a paper napkin, he threw it into a nearby wastebasket. “Lacy told me a little about her childhood. I recall she said her mom was an invalid. And that you sacrificed your youth to run the household, Ms. Hyatt.”
“I was the oldest child. If Lacy had been born first, it would have been the other way around,” Faith stated flatly.
Michael moved forward. “If you have a point, Fielding, I’d like to hear it. But don’t try to say Lacy slandered Faith. I know she admired her sister.”
Faith gave him a surprised glance. She and Lacy had grown closer after Lacy’s marriage—and before her divorce. Faith was pretty sure familial love had existed. But admiration? Her heart swelled at the thought. During all those troubled years, she would have settled for a simple hug from her sister. Faith roused as Kipp spoke again.
“My point is that Faith missed the things kids do for fun. Lacy said Faith never participated in school activities. No dances. No sports. No guys. A while ago, you two talked about her ailing father. If she assumes care of two infants on top of that, I think she’s kissing any chance for a normal life goodbye. This is when she should concentrate on meeting someone and getting married.”
A startled gasp escaped Faith’s lips. But she was too embarrassed by Kipp’s rundown of her life to make any comment. More like her lack of a life. He’d managed to make her sound pretty pathetic. Oh, she’d dreamed of falling in love, she’d even had a brief affair with a hospital accountant. He’d ended the relationship, eventually marrying another nurse and moving to another state. Faith continued to hope for marriage and a family someday. But she never felt as if she needed a husband to be complete. Her life hadn’t been all that bad.
Michael, too, seemed astonished by Kipp’s blunt statement. Since no one interrupted, Kipp hammered his point home. “I’m offering you an out here, Faith. Shelby and I have a six-bedroom home. It sits on three acres. She’s able to devote all her time to motherhood. I made some inquiries this morning. I know how much you earn. And I know you work some oddball shifts. I sincerely doubt anyone would think you derelict of duty if you signed Lacy’s babies over to their natural father.”
“You’re claiming that role, huh, Fielding?” Michael slapped a hand on the glass table. “We have a difference of opinion on that score. The twins are mine.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Kipp’s chest expanded a few inches. “I hate bringing this up with a lady present, old man. Your ex-wife was pretty outspoken about the infrequency of your lovemaking.”
Michael’s face went suddenly florid. “It so happens, pal, we were intimate the day I left for Norway. January fourth. You’re welcome to calculate that out.”
Kipp seemed shaken by Michael’s announcement. “I—I…that’s the day before we, ah, that is…when Lacy and I first slept together. I think you’re lying, Cameron. Lacy said she had to schedule an appointment with you to make love.”
“Think what you want. Lacy’s forte was high drama. I guess I always knew she was impulsive. I’m only just realizing how impulsive.”
Faith slumped down hard in her chair. She blinked up at them, stomach roiling. “So what you’re, uh, both saying is that it’s a mystery as to who fathered the twins?”
Neither man acknowledged Faith’s conclusion.
Kipp checked his watch for about the third time in five minutes. “I have to get back to New York. I don’t have any more time to argue. Here’s the bottom line. There’s a boy upstairs in the nursery with Fielding genes. Because of that, he’s entitled to a legacy. I won’t go into everything that entails. Suffice it to say he’ll be well taken care of. You two will be hearing from my attorney. That’s a promise.”
Faith and Michael watched in silence as he stalked out.
“Two can play his game,” Michael said, his expression thunderous. “I don’t care how many damned Roman numerals he has after his name. Fielding will be hearing from my lawyer, too. Meanwhile, I’m going up to visit the babies. I don’t advise trying to stop me, Faith.” Giving her only seconds to respond, he, too, stormed out.
Faith’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, Lacy,” she murmured. “What kind of mess have you left me with this time?”
Sighing, she regained enough composure to pick up the phone and call the duty nurse in charge of the premie ward. “My sister’s ex-husband has asked to visit the twins, Eileen. I’m willing to extend him that courtesy today, but make sure everyone on the duty roster knows Lacy left custody papers on file. If Michael or anyone else wants to see the babies from here on out, staff will have to call me for authorization. Is that clear?” When she was certain the charge nurse understood, Faith rang off.
Stopping at the reception area, she thanked Dr. Peterson’s secretary for the use of his office. After that, she went upstairs to her own ward, post-surgical. Faith wanted to see the babies again after Michael left. Somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he presented a threat.
Her mind not on work, she nevertheless emptied her mailbox. It was full. Among the usual junk was a notice to stop at the finance office and discuss Lacy’s hospital bill. Faith stared at the statement. She had a tidy savings account. She’d expected to use it to stock a nursery; she’d also figured it would allow her to take six months or so off work. Last night when she couldn’t sleep, she made lists of what the babies would need. Planning for two of everything ate up money fast. To say nothing of the fact that the cost of funerals had skyrocketed since she’d arranged her mother’s.
Closing her eyes, Faith rubbed her forehead. It hadn’t entered her mind that she’d owe for Lacy’s care. But then, what company would insure her sister? Even if she had a policy, it probably excluded her preexisting condition. Faith placed this new worry at the bottom of her stack. The next envelope she opened was almost as distressing. The babies needed names before the state could issue birth certificates.
Faith picked up a pen. Abigail was easy. That had been Lacy’s wish. Abigail Dawn. It was a middle name denoting hope, and the two went well together, Faith thought. Hyatt. She wrote the last name in block letters. Writing it felt good. Like thumbing her nose at Kipp Fielding III and his father.
The form for Lacy’s son remained mockingly blank. Faith made a list of names she thought sounded strong. Nicholas kept floating to the top. “Nicholas it shall be,” she murmured, then chewed on the eraser while she searched her list for an acceptable middle name. John. A solid biblical name. Also, it’d been Faith and Lacy’s grandfather’s. Faith remembered him as a soft-spoken man with twinkling eyes.
Once that chore was complete, she dispatched her remaining mail quickly. A glance at her watch suggested she’d wasted enough time; Michael should be long gone from the nursery. She dropped off the birth certificate forms in the outgoing mail on her way to visit the twins.
By now she knew the routine and proceeded to don sterile gear before she entered the nursery. Tying the last set of strings on her mask, Faith pushed open the door to the premie ward. And froze. A fully gowned and masked Michael Cameron sat in Faith’s usual chair. He had a baby lying along each of his forearms, their little heads cradled in the palms of his big hands. Both pairs of baby eyes were wide-open. Faith was near enough to see their mouths working. Oh, they looked like perfect little dolls.
Fuzzy dark hair spilled from beneath Nicholas’s blue stocking cap. Abigail’s wispy curls glinted pale gold in the artificial light.
Faith’s gaze shifted to Michael’s face. Her stomach knotted and her knees felt watery. There was no mistaking the tears that tracked down his cheeks. An involuntary protest rose in Faith’s throat, blocking the breath she tried desperately to suck into her lungs. She didn’t want to empathize with Lacy’s ex. Throwing out a hand, she clutched the privacy screen to keep from falling.
Michael heard the sound. His rapt gaze left the twins. “Faith.” He said her name softly. “I know I’ve been here beyond the time you set, but…but they’re incredible. I’ve never been so humbled. Since Lacy risked everything for them I really hope that somehow she knows how perfect they are.”
Faith watched him transfer his attention to a tiny hand that had worked free of its gown and felt the blood drain from her face.
With one gloved finger, he captured the baby’s waving fist. “Fielding said they’re labeled Babies A and B Hyatt. I stopped in finance to pay Lacy’s bill and discovered she’d never legally changed her name after the divorce. Officially the babies are Camerons. As they should be,” he said sternly, his eyes lifting in time to witness Faith’s retreat. Michael called her to come back, to no avail.
Hands over her ears, Faith stumbled into the hall. She needed to get home and call Lacy’s lawyer. Maybe the custody papers, which plainly stated Lacy wanted the babies to go by the name of Hyatt, were flawed. She took the time, however, to detour by the nursing station to retrieve the birth certificate forms she’d filled out incorrectly.
What was in a name, anyway? Michael had admitted the divorce was final. And she certainly hadn’t asked him to pay Lacy’s hospital bill. Maybe he was being thoughtful. Then again, he might have an ulterior motive. At any rate, Faith felt disloyal to Lacy as she crossed out Hyatt on the forms and wrote Cameron. As she dropped her gown, mask and bootees in the laundry, she mentally rearranged her budget to include attorney’s fees. If Fielding and Cameron expected her to fade quietly into the woodwork, they’d better think again. She intended to be a devoted mom to her sister’s babies. The kind she’d never had time to be for Lacy. She’d been too young then and stretched too thin in caring for their ailing mother. Still, the thought of so many lawyers getting involved made Faith almost sick to her stomach.
CHAPTER THREE
ATTENDING LACY’S FUNERAL was even harder than Faith had imagined. She was touched by the number of people from the hospital who came out of respect for her. Likewise, by the number of Lacy’s old friends from high school and college who’d shown up. Faith made a mental note to catch Abigail Moore after the service so that she could tell her about her namesake.
A few acquaintances had sent flowers and cards. Including Kipp Fielding III. His was an ostentatious arrangement of red and white roses. They dwarfed Michael’s small white basket of violets. The violets brought tears to Faith’s eyes; they were Lacy’s favorite flower and Michael must have gone to a great deal of trouble to find a florist to provide them at this time of year.
More surprising than his thoughtful gesture, however, was seeing the man himself walk into the chapel. He paused at a back row and greeted two couples who’d arrived earlier. People Faith had never met. Now it was obvious they’d known Lacy through Michael.
He didn’t tarry long with his friends. Head bent, he walked slowly down the center aisle and knelt in front of the closed casket. Faith had thought her tears were all cried out until she watched his jaw ripple with emotion several times before he leaned forward to kiss the oak-grained lid. There was a decided sheen to his eyes when he rose. Or maybe she was watching him through her own tears.
She couldn’t think of a thing to say when he sank onto the bench beside her. Even if she’d thought of something, she didn’t trust her voice not to break.
“I swung past the apartment to pick you up,” he murmured. “You’d already gone. You must not have listened to the messages on your answering machine. The last one I left said I’d booked a car service for us. I know you don’t own a vehicle.”
Faith clasped and unclasped her hands. The truth was, she had listened to the message. But Lacy’s lawyer ordered her to have as little contact as possible with either of the two men. The attorney, David Reed, had been quite adamant, in fact.
Fortunately, Faith was saved from answering Michael when the minister stepped up to the pulpit. She’d asked Reverend Wilson to keep the service short in deference to the people who had taken time off work. However, his opening prayer droned on and on.
Ending at last, the minister segued into a poem by Helen Steiner Rice. The words celebrated life, and Lacy had been particularly fond of them. Anyone who’d ever received a note from her would recognize the piece, as she’d had it reprinted on the front of her monogrammed note cards.
Next, a singer—a woman Faith had selected from a generic pool on file at the funeral home—had half the people in the chapel sniffing and wiping their eyes with her rendition of “The Rose.” Faith chose the song because Lacy had worn out two CD copies of it. Too bad if anyone thought the lyrics inappropriate for a funeral. Faith wanted the service to epitomize Lacy’s life.
Her own cheeks remained wet as the minister delivered a tribute she’d written yesterday. The words hadn’t come easily, but Faith wanted people to know that her sister wasn’t shallow and vain, as some might remember her from high school and college. For one thing, Lacy had artistic talents. Before her debilitating illness, she’d dreamed of becoming an interior designer. If the media chose to cover the funeral, Faith also wanted them to report how selfless Lacy had been, giving her life in exchange for healthy babies. But it was all she could do to listen to the eulogy. The tears coursed down her cheeks and plopped on the lapels of her new navy suit.
Before Reverend Wilson brought the service to a close, Michael turned to Faith and whispered, “May I say a few words?”
“Of c-course,” she stammered. When he stood, she was shocked to discover her right hand had been tightly entwined in his. Faith immediately pulled away, but she missed the warmth of his hand as Michael stepped to the pulpit and faced the small gathering.
“Lacy Ellen Hyatt Cameron passed through our lives at warp speed,” he began in an unsteady voice. “Her sojourn with us was much too brief.” He paused to clear his throat, and Faith saw his fingers tremble. She lowered her gaze to the floor and sucked her upper lip between her teeth, biting down hard to hold off a new bout of tears.
However, Michael didn’t dwell on Lacy’s death. He invited everyone to remember the woman who’d lived life full-tilt. “The Lacy we all knew brightened a room just by being in it. She hated sitting still. She loved to go and do. She loved to argue and debate.” His voice cracked a little, but a semblance of a smile curved his lips as he suggested she was probably even now testing St. Peter’s mettle. “It’s that Lacy who’ll live on in my heart and I hope in yours as well.”
People were dabbing at their eyes as he sat down again. Faith felt as if a weight had been lifted. She’d blotted away her tears while the minister offered a final prayer. “Thank you, Michael,” she managed to say once everyone began to mill about. “Lacy kept things to herself this last year. I…we…stopped communicating.” Faith licked a salty tear off her upper lip while twisting a tissue into bits. “If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in work, I keep thinking she might have confided in me more. I’m afraid I gave up too easily, trying to reach her at the beach house. When she didn’t return my calls, I…” Faith didn’t finish the statement.
“I’m more at fault than you are, Faith,” Michael said, his hazel eyes dark and troubled. “I let our lawyers act as go-betweens after she filed for divorce. I should have sat down with her when I returned from Norway. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that she ended up hating me.”
“I’m sure she didn’t feel that strongly, Michael.”
“Then how come Fielding believes I’m a first-class SOB?”
“On the phone, Lacy seemed happy enough at Christmas. She didn’t give the slightest indication you two would be splitting up in January.”
“When you called, she put on a convincing act. She was pretty upset with me for missing most of the major holiday parties we’d received invitations to. Every passing day, she seemed to feel more resentful of the time I devoted to my patients. I didn’t know how to bridge the chasm between us.”
“I’m sorry, Michael.” Faith stood and bent down to pick up her purse. She started to walk away, then turned back. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Lacy’s craving for attention goes back to her childhood. To when our entire household centered on our mother’s poor health. At the same time, it terrified Lacy to think her illness might somehow force her to become dependent on others—like our mom had been. Looking back, I believe Lacy assumed the transplant would make her one-hundred percent good-as-new.”
Michael tugged at his lower lip. “Which explains why she became so terribly hostile toward follow-up care. I wish you’d said something sooner, Faith. You’ve answered my biggest question. I never understood how Lacy could act so cavalier about the second chance she’d been given. I’m a doctor, for God’s sake. You’d think I’d have picked up on her feelings.”
Faith touched his arm. “You were too close to the problem. It dawned on me gradually, after you two had left Boston.”
“We were married for five years. How could I completely miss what bothered her so much?” he asked with a snag in his voice. “Kipp got the picture, didn’t he?”
“It’s a little late for recriminations. Kipp treated her so shabbily he’s hardly in a position to judge you.” Removing her hand from Michael’s arm, Faith backed away. “Uh, Michael, I have to go. The funeral director just signaled that it’s time for me to get in the family car to make the trip to the cemetery.”
“You’re doing that alone? I’d planned to ride with friends.” He waved toward the back of the chapel. “I’ll keep you company if you’d prefer.”
“No. Please don’t change your arrangements. Someone from the funeral home will accompany me. Right now, I need a minute to decide which flowers go to the cemetery and which I want sent to the hospital to brighten our waiting rooms.”
“All right,” he said, frowning. He let her go, yet didn’t join his friends until the director approached Faith and the two left the room.
THE ASSEMBLY AT THE GRAVESIDE was smaller than the gathering at the chapel. As there wasn’t to be a formal reception, friends took the time to speak with Faith before claiming seats beneath a shade tent. She was so caught up in talking to Abigail Moore, relating Lacy’s desire to name her daughter Abby, Faith didn’t realize Michael had arrived and had slipped into the seat beside her. Or not until he exhaled sharply.
Abigail sobbed. “I’m so surprised and…and humbled. Lacy phoned me once after she’d moved back to Boston. Just to talk, she said. I suggested meeting for lunch, but she put me off. I never knew she was pregnant, Faith. I feel as if I let her down. Call me when you take the babies home. I’d love to visit.”
Faith nodded and pressed Abby’s hand. She winced when Michael leaned over and hissed in her ear. “I was under the impression Dr. Finegold lost Lacy during the delivery. When did she name the twins?”
“Before she went up for her C-section. Lacy gave me custody, remember. And she wasn’t aware that she carried twins. It’s common for women to name their babies, Michael. Abby was what Lacy had called her child. I chose Nicholas,” Faith said, injecting a challenge in her voice.
Michael’s brows puckered. He probably would have said more if the minister hadn’t asked them to stand for a prayer. Relieved, Faith tore her gaze from Michael’s flinty eyes. Bending her head, she willed her bucking heart to slow. David Reed had specifically warned her not to provoke either Michael or Kipp Fielding III. He said to refer them to him for answers to any and all questions concerning the babies.
She shouldn’t have let Michael’s earlier vulnerability reach her. Well, it wouldn’t happen again. He and Kipp were her enemies. She’d do well to remember that.
Faith was first in the circle of mourners to lay a carnation atop Lacy’s casket. An attendant had provided each person with a flower. The director sidled up to Faith as she stepped out from under the awning, asking if she preferred to mingle a bit or return to town. “Town, please,” she said with a tremor. “I’ll come back tomorrow for some private time with my sister.”
The short walk to the waiting car proved to be the hardest part of the entire ordeal for Faith. Her knees wobbled like the front wheel of a novice bike rider. She would have stumbled and maybe even fallen if the director hadn’t had a firm grip on her elbow. The shaky feeling kept her from turning back for a last look. Not that she would have had a clear picture anyway. Once she was sitting in the car, her nose pressed to the side window, the lovely hillside with its spreading elms and soft carpet of green all ran together. There was such finality attached to the ritual of leaving the cemetery. Up to now it had been easy to pretend that Lacy was only a phone call away. Watching the blur of row after row of headstones stripped away the fantasy, underlined the truth. Her only sister was gone, and there were too many things left unsaid between them.
On the ride back to town, Faith went through half a box of tissues the director had thoughtfully provided.
It was barely noon when the black car pulled up outside her apartment. So little time, Faith thought frantically—it took so little time to cut you forever from the sphere of a loved one.
The long afternoon that lay ahead seemed interminable as she stepped out of the car into the sunlight. And once she’d changed clothes, she found she didn’t want to be confined with her thoughts. She could go mad worrying about what Michael and Kipp might be plotting with regard to Lacy’s babies. Yet, if she stayed here, Michael could call or show up unexpectedly and further debate her right to name the babies. He hadn’t seemed happy with the names she’d chosen.
She considered going to the hospital nursery. There she could hold part of Lacy close, thus assuring herself and the babies that she’d protect them from the men who’d taken such a recent interest in fatherhood. Though in a worst-case scenario, Faith knew one of the two men was the children’s biological parent. She might be more willing to face up to that fact if the loss of the twins’ mother wasn’t so terribly real just now.
On the spur of the moment, Faith grabbed her purse and left the building, deciding to wander aimlessly downtown; she’d visit the twins later. She had no particular destination in mind—until she found herself in front of a major department store. Then she remembered the list of items needed to set up a nursery for the babies. Why not shop now? After all, David Reed, Lacy’s lawyer, had told her to outfit a room. He said a judge would certainly take her readiness to provide the babies with a home as a positive sign if it came to a court battle. In her heart, Faith feared it would come to that. What she didn’t want to think about was which of the three combatants would win such a fight. Kipp Fielding III, Michael Cameron…or her.
“Be optimistic,” she muttered under her breath as she hurried into the store.
Upstairs, the baby department, with its array of pastels and primary colors, infused warmth back into Faith’s cold limbs. Buying for Lacy’s babies was going to be fun. Faith so rarely shopped for fun. In her mother’s stead, she had learned at an early age to weigh price against serviceable value. To be frugal. It was a practice she adhered to when buying for herself. She was determined to give Lacy’s babies all the things she’d never been able to give Lacy. That included lavishing them with her undivided attention. She’d been so young, so totally inadequate as a surrogate parent to her sister. Things were different now. Her life was different.
As she wandered through the baby furniture, Faith chose cribs and dressers with clean, classic lines. Beautiful wood that would endure. Crib bedding was another matter. Faith tried to imagine what Lacy would have wanted for her children. Lacy’s taste in clothing and furnishings, had tended toward flashy colors while Faith gravitated toward softer shades. She thought about her apartment done in ivory, gray and mauve, and deliberately purchased two wild circus quilts richly patterned in blocks of green, yellow, orange and blue.
