Heart Breaths (17 page)

“You look funny,” Noie said, laughing a little.

Funny? I looked at the picture again. Not so much funny as it was different. A lot different than what I looked like now. A lot freer.

“I know him,” she said, pointing to a picture of Ravi.

My heart stopped a little bit. “How?” I asked.

“He was in this picture, too!” she said, pointing to a picture on the page before.

“That’s right,” I said, breathing out.

Seriously, Maddie. You’re letting your imagination run away with you.

Noie turned the page again, careful. “What are you doing here?” she said, pointing to a picture from one of Ravi’s cousin’s weddings. “You’re wearing a funny dress.”

“It’s called a sari,” I said, remembering that day. They had all been so nice to me—the white girl of the family. They hadn’t minded so much then—later, after the accident? It was a different story. “That’s what they wear in India.”

“It’s pretty,” she said, stroking the picture, as if she would be able to feel it through the page.

I nodded absently, wrapped up in my thoughts.

She turned the page again, and gave a little gasp. “Look Maddie!” she said, pointing to a picture. “There’s Devi!”

I looked down at the picture and paled. There was Devi.

It was one of the last pictures I had of her from before the accident. She was sitting at the little kitchen table in our apartment, coloring a picture for the fridge.

“That is Devi,” I whispered, feeling the beginnings of panic. How did she know? “How do you know that, Noie?”

She looked at me like I had fallen off the moon. “Because Devi’s my friend,” she said, like it was the most obvious thing ever.

“And she looks like this?” I asked, pointing to the picture of Devi in the album. Maybe her imaginary friend was a different little girl.

“Almost,” she said. See, Maddie? Jumping to conclusions. “But she’s not wearing that outfit.”

“What do you mean, she’s not wearing that outfit?” I asked, my mouth going dry.

“She’s wearing a pink dress and white pants,” she said. “Because pink is her bestest color, like me.”

Pink dress and white pants.

The morning of the accident, Devi was wearing a pink tunic dress and white leggings.

Leggings, which, later that day, had ended up splattered in blood.

“A pink dress?” I echoed, not wanting to believe Noie. It was a coincidence. It had to be.

Noie nodded cheerfully, unaware that what she was saying was making me forget I knew how to breathe. “Devi is my friend,” she said. “She lived in New York City with Mommy and Daddy. Then she wented away.”

“Where did she go?” I whispered, terrified of the answer.

“She’s waiting,” she said. “And she visits me.”

“What’s she waiting for?” I asked, heart in my throat.

“She said she’s waiting for her Mommy to smile,” Noie said. She looked up at me, her face troubled. “Why isn’t her Mommy smiling, Maddie?”

The tears began to run down my cheeks. “Because she’s very sad,” I said, my voice choked. “Because she misses her Devi.”

“But Devi’s here,” Noie said. “She comes and visits me, so she also visits her Mommy, too, right?”

I shrugged. Did she? I didn’t know. Maybe I didn’t let myself know. “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t know, Noie.”

Noie reached over and patted my hand. “Devi says that her Mommy loves her and her Daddy best of all,” she said. “But she loves other people, too. Because her heart gets bigger and there’s room to love other people inside, too.”

A chill raced down my back. I had told Devi that, one day not so long before the accident. One of the kids in her playgroup’s mom had had another baby, and Devi came home, worried that the mom wasn’t going to love her son anymore now that she had another one. Hearts get bigger, I had told her. Just like mine can get bigger. Ravi and I had been talking about trying for another baby.

It never happened.

“I’m sure she loves other people, too,” I said, my voice catching on a sob as I looked at the little girl who was forcing me to let my heart breathe. Breathe in someone you loved.

With startling clarity, I looked at her big green eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt that I loved Noie with everything I had in me.

“Maddie? Why are you crying?” Noie asked, climbing onto my lap, reaching up and patting my damp cheeks. “Are you sad?”

Was I sad?

“A little bit,” I said, feeling the tears flow.

“It’s okay,” Noie said, wrapping her little arms around me and squeezing me. “It’s okay.”

I smiled through my tears and hugged her back, the little girl who had wormed her way into my life and into my heart. “It is okay,” I agreed. “It’s going to be.”

We sat there as my tears dried. Looking up, I noticed the time. “Noie, baby, it’s time for you to go to bed,” I said, standing up slowly, still holding her.

She cuddled into my neck, tired. “Tired,” she said, her voice sleepy.

“Me, too,” I agreed, reaching over and grabbing her pajamas. “Let’s put on some ’jamas and go lie down with your dolly, okay?”

“You, too?” she asked as she let me pull off her shirt.

“For a little bit,” I said, still trying to process everything that had happened that day.

“Can we sing first?” she asked.

I nodded. “We can sing first,” I said. “Brush your teeth, potty, and then we sing.”

Changing into my own pajamas, I helped Noie brush her teeth and helped her wash her hands before climbing into my bed next to her.

“Goodnight, little sunshine,” I sang with her, memories of cuddling with Devi flowing through my mind.

“Goodnight, baby doll,” I whispered as I kissed Noie on the forehead. “Maiṁ tumasē pyāra karatā hūm̐,” I love you.

“Love you, Maddie,” her little voice whispered as she snuggled against me, clutching her doll in her arms as her breathing became even.

I lay there, stroking her hair as she slept, my thoughts whirling.

Was it possible that she really saw Devi?

I had never really given the supernatural much thought—the possibility that Noie was seeing ghosts was one that was too much for me to comprehend. Climbing out of bed slowly, as to not wake up Noie, I left the door open and walked back toward the couch, where my photo album was lying, open.

Flipping to the first page, I looked through the pictures. It was a photo album that chronicled my life with Ravi and Devi—pictures back from when I was fifteen, scared, and pregnant. Devi’s sonogram. Hospital pictures.

Closing the album, I put it on the bookshelf. I wasn’t ready for the deluge of memories that would follow if I went through the whole album. They were happy memories, but sometimes happy memories hurt the most.

Reaching over, I picked up the Sudoku book that had been lying unopened on the side table. Grabbing a pencil, I sat back down on the couch and began to fill in the first puzzle.

Four puzzles and two checks on Noie later, I heard the sound of footsteps heading toward my door. Too heavy to be Sam’s.

There was a soft knock on the door. Putting down the Sudoku book, I walked over and opened the door to see Gabe, clutching the doorway with a wild look in his eyes.

“Is she here?” he asked wildly. “Is she okay?”

“Noie’s here. She’s sleeping in my bed now.”

“Can I see her?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Why was he asking? What had Sam told him? Leading him toward the bedroom, I opened the door. Noie was sprawled across my pillows, still clutching her doll, moonlight shining over her sleeping body.

Gabe leaned heavily against the doorway. “Thank God,” he whispered.

“Gabe, are you okay?” I asked, concerned. I had never seen him like this—this level of exhaustion. It wasn’t just the normal not sleeping, too many hours at work exhaustion. It was an exhaustion I recognized—the one when your past finally caught up to you.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

I ached for him, wondering what he was going through now, only imagining. Reaching over, I put my hand into his. “Come sit on the couch,” I said quietly, feeling the tingle that I felt every time I touched him.

Feeling his hand tighten around mine, I led him back toward the living room, the lights dim.

Sitting down on the couch next to him, I reached to let go of his hand and move over a little bit, give him some space. “No, don’t,” he said, his voice low and tired. “Sit here with me, Maddie.”

“You sure?” I asked.

He nodded, his expression vulnerable. “I know there’s a lot of shit we have to deal with, Maddie,” he said. “But I need a friend now.”

I couldn’t say no to that.

Sliding over, I sat next to him, and felt him put an arm around me. “Friend?” I asked, looking up at him.

Pulling me tight against him, he nodded. “Friend,” he repeated, letting out a deep breath.

Breathe it out, I thought as I reached over and began to rub slow circles on his chest. It wasn’t a friend thing to do, I knew. But it hurt me so much to see his face like that, troubled, exhausted and hurt.

I could feel his heartbeat slow down as I lay my cheek against him and rubbed his chest slowly. “Want to talk about it?” I asked, echoing what he had said to me the week before.

“Soon,” he whispered, letting his fingers drift up and down my arm. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” I agreed, letting my hand rest on his chest, knowing it was dangerous for us to be sitting like this, but not caring.

He needed me. I needed him. And what happened after this? We’d figure it out when it came. But I was the last one who would walk away from someone hurting. Not after years of having people walk away from me. “Sam caught me on my way home,” he began, sounding exhausted. “She was waiting for me outside of my parents’ house, and told me she had to talk to me, and that it was important. So I flipped out, because I thought something was wrong with Noie, but she swore up and down Noie was fine, and that she was with you.”

He turned to look at me. “Thank you for watching her,” he said. “I know you probably had a lot of other things you could have been doing than babysitting for my daughter, again.”

“I love her,” I said. “There was nothing I wanted to do more than spend time with her.”

Except sit here like this with you, I admitted to myself. Minus the stupid ex-girlfriend, who was hovering over us like an impending tornado.

“Thank you,” he repeated, squeezing me against him. Leaning, I rested my head against him as he started to speak again.

Chapter · Seventeen

“How much did Sam tell you about Diane?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted. “I overheard her on the phone, too. So enough to know she doesn’t deserve you or Noie.”

“She doesn’t deserve Noie,” he said, his voice fierce. “She doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as Noelle.”

“No, she doesn’t,” I agreed, starting to rub circles again. He was so tense. “She doesn’t.”

“I met her when I came to work here one summer a few years ago,” he said. “I was working for a construction company, building a beach house the next town over. Diane was working nearby, at one of the stores. She used to come over by the construction site with her friends, to flirt with the workers. We went out for a little bit—nothing too serious. And then she called me one day near the end of the summer, hysterical. She was pregnant. A condom broke. I proposed two days later, and she agreed to marry me. I had been planning on going back to college, I only had a year left, but she was pregnant and didn’t want to move. I kept my job, and found an apartment. Diane didn’t want to get married pregnant, so we were going to wait until the baby was born.”

He swallowed and I kept rubbing circles, feeling him tense up again. “I used to go with her to her doctor’s appointments. One day I came home, and found her gone. There was a note on the calendar that said she had a doctor’s appointment. So I went to the doctor, and found her about to have an abortion.” He shuddered at the memory. “She almost killed Noie. Almost murdered my daughter. God, I wanted to kill her that day in the doctor’s office. She didn’t give a shit about the baby. Couldn’t care less about her. It was ugly, the fight we had after I dragged her out of the doctor’s office. She never planned on keeping the baby—at first she was going to lie to me about being pregnant, but then once she actually got pregnant, she didn’t need to. She thought I was loaded, and decided I’d make her a good sugar daddy.” His voice was bitter.

“But then she realized that not only was I not as rich as she thought, but that I actually wanted the kid. She got bored, and decided she wanted to move on. She didn’t want to be pregnant—didn’t want to have any kids, ever, and didn’t want to have mine. We came to an agreement—she would have Noie, and I would pay her. She was five and a half months pregnant—how the doctor was going to let her abort, I didn’t know. Noie ended up being premature—she was born after eight months. Five weeks later, I walked in on Diane having sex with one of the other construction guys in my bedroom. Two days later, she was gone. I haven’t seen her since.”

My heart broke for him as he sat there silently.

“Don’t worry about her,” I said, starting to rub his chest again, wanting to do something to make him feel better. To make both of us feel better. “We’re not going to let her anywhere near Noie.”

“My parents don’t know,” he said.

“Know what?”

“Most of it. All they know is that Diane didn’t want the baby. Sam knows a little bit more, but she doesn’t know about the abortion.” He swallowed hard. “And none of them know about me paying her off. This is why I’ve been working my ass off since she left—because I knew that the money I gave her wasn’t going to be enough for her. That she would come back and try to take Noie away to use as some sort of sympathy object with the next guy.”

He swallowed hard. “So when Sam told me that y’all saw Diane… I thought the worst.”

I sat silently, trying to digest what he had just told me. “Oh, God, Gabe, I’m so sorry that we scared you like that.”

I looked up at his poor, exhausted face. “Come on,” I said, wriggling out from his arms and standing up.

“Where?” he asked, practically sleeping as he struggled to stand up.

“Bed,” I said, taking his hand and leading him to the bedroom where Noie was sleeping.

“Can’t,” he muttered, his eyes barely staying open. “I want to, Maddie, but I can’t. Not now. Not tonight.”

I felt the blush creep up to my cheeks. “Not like that, Gabe,” I said, leading him over to the bed and helping him sit on the edge. “Just sleep here. You’re too tired to go home now.”

He yawned again, and looked up at me blearily, his eyes sleepy and sweet. “You sure?” he asked.

“Sure,” I replied. “Don’t worry,” I repeated. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

He toed off his shoes and yanked off his shirt. Lying down on the bed next to Noie, he looked up at me. “You coming?” he asked, more asleep than he was awake, patting the space next to him.

“Soon,” I lied. “Sleep now.”

“Lie down,” he instructed. “You’re tired.”

“Soon,” I repeated.

Reaching over, he grabbed my hand and tugged me gently toward the bed. “Now,” he ordered sleepily. I stood there, letting him hold my hand as he fell asleep. Slowly uncurling his fingers from mine, I reached over and brushed the hair out of his eyes. I pulled the covers over him and Noie and grabbed an extra blanket and went to the living room. After locking the front door and porch and going to turn off the lights, I curled up on the couch and let myself be rocked to sleep by the lullaby of slow breathing in the apartment.

The sound of Noie’s scampering feet woke me up the next morning. “Daddy, why is Maddie sleeping on the couch?” she whispered, peering down at me.

“Shhh,” Gabe whispered. “Maddie’s still sleeping. Don’t wake her up.”

Opening my eyes, I saw Noie’s curious face inches from mine. “Good morning, baby,” I said, leaning over to give her a hug.

“No, Daddy, Maddie’s not sleeping!” she said, her voice at a normal decibel. “Maddie, why were you sleeping on the couch?”

“I fell asleep on it,” I said, sitting up and stretching a little.

The apartment smelled like coffee. I didn’t even realize there was any coffee left in the kitchen. “Why the couch?” Gabe asked, walking into the living room carrying a mug of coffee and handing it to me.

I shrugged, not wanting to have that conversation in front of Noie. “Where did you find the coffee?” I asked, taking a small sip.

“In the kitchen,” he said. “Noie and I will be leaving soon.”

“Take your time,” I said, feeling Noie come and sit next to me on the couch, clutching her doll.

“You’ve got work soon, and so do I,” he said. “And I have to change out of my clothing before I go to work.”

I looked down at my pajamas and blushed again. Gabe, apparently, had the uncanny ability of always bumping into me when I was in pajamas.

“Well, there is that,” I said, getting up from the couch, taking the blanket with me.

Folding the blanket, I reached into the closet to put it away when I felt a warm hand on my back. Putting down the blanket with shaky hands, I turned to look up at Gabe. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice soft.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, wondering if he knew that I should be thanking him, too.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Why’d you leave last night?” he asked.

I shrugged, scared to tell him the truth.

“There wasn’t really room,” I hedged.

His eyebrow went up. “There was plenty of room.”

“I wasn’t ready for that,” I said, dropping my gaze to the ground. “I don’t know if I can do more than friends yet, Gabe.”

“You know last night was more than friends,” he said, his voice rough. “Don’t pretend it wasn’t.”

“I know it was,” I admitted, still not meeting his gaze. “I just don’t know, Gabe.”

“Is this because of Diane?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It has nothing to do with Diane,” I said, telling the truth. “It’s me.”

Dropping his forehead to mine, Gabe closed his eyes. “You’re stronger than that, Maddie,” he whispered.

“I don’t know if I am,” I said, wishing I was. “I never let myself let go, Gabe. Never. I was never allowed to. And I’m only doing it now. It’s not fair to either of us right now.”

We stood there, at the entrance of the closet, breathing each other in. “Don’t run, Maddie,” Gabe finally said. “Don’t run this time, okay? We both want you here.”

“I can try,” I whispered. “I want to be here with both of you, too.”

“Noie’s going to be at my parents’ tonight,” he said, taking a small step back as we heard Noie’s footsteps run toward the bedroom. “She has a sleepover there once a week. Can I take you out to dinner?”

“As what?” I asked, unsure.

“As whatever you want it to be,” he replied.

“Even if it’s just friends?”

He looked at me as Noie pushed open the door. “You know that’s not all this is,” he said, the rasp of his voice making me shiver. “But if that’s what you want to say this is, than that’s all it will be tonight.”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Daddy, I’m hungry!” Noie said, rubbing her eyes.

“As soon as I put on my shoes, we’re going to go home and eat some breakfast,” Gabe said, tearing his eyes away from me and turning to Noie.

“Is Maddie coming?” she asked.

“No, honey, I have to go downstairs soon and help Grandma Evelyn make breakfast,” I replied.

Noie pouted. “Want you to come,” she said.

“A different time, okay?” I said.

I saw Gabe’s eyes light up, and realized what I had just said. Oops.

Helping Gabe gather Noie’s things, I walked them to the door. “Thank you, Maddie,” he said, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.

“You’re welcome,” I managed as they walked down the stairs.

I stood there, fingers touching the spot on my cheek his lips had brushed, watching his car drive off. I didn’t know if I could do this.

I thought back to the night before, sitting on the couch next to Gabe, and wondered if I knew how not to do this.

“How is he?” Sam asked me later that morning, looking tired and worried.

I hated Diane—not just for what she did before, but because she made all the people I cared for worry like this. “I’m not sure,” I responded quietly, not wanting the entire café to find out about this. “He’s worried. Mostly just tired of everything, I think.”

“I could kill her for what she did to him,” Sam said, fists clenching.

She had no idea. “You and me both,” I agreed, handing her her coffee.

Sam looked at me curiously. “You care about him, don’t you?” she asked me, her voice soft.

“Of course I do,” I said. “He’s my friend.”

“Honey, Gabe hasn’t really been friends with any girls since Noie was born,” she said.

I shrugged. I hadn’t really been friends with any guys since the accident. Crawford being the only mistake.

“Just friends, Sam,” I said, not wanting to make it more than it was. Or what I could handle right now.

Reaching over she gave me a quick hug. “I’m glad it’s you, Maddie,” she whispered. “And my lips are sealed.”

Would she have been as happy if she knew that I had more emotional baggage than Gabe did? I didn’t know. If I had a brother, I didn’t know if I would have been.

Smoothing my dress, I fiddled nervously while I waited for Gabe to come over. This was a bad idea, I told myself. This was not a good idea.

Why not? I argued. Gabe is your friend.

Friend, my butt.

Sam was my friend. At no point did I want to make out with her. Or Hannah, Mary Elizabeth, or Chris or Bryan.