She looked so beautiful there, holding his son. Love for her swelled so big in his heart he thought it might burst. He wished that things had been different and that she’d been Toby’s mother.
Going down on his knee, he leaned forward and kissed her again, communicating without words how he felt about her, then whispered, “You’re the most beautiful, caring woman I’ve ever known. I’ll turn down the bed and make a place for him between us.”
Jayne’s smile was tender and warm as she nodded. Toby let out a blissful baby sigh as he fell deeper asleep in her arms. Whatever choices had to be made could wait until the morning.
Of course those lofty thoughts did nothing to help him sleep, and he woke up during the night and lay there watching the two of them slumber. Toby must’ve been exhausted because he’d stirred only once or twice. He’d curled as close as he could to Jayne in his nest made of pillows and a receiving blanket, his thumb in his mouth. She slept with one arm curled around Toby, dressed in one of Seth’s T-shirts. It had ridden up during the night, revealing the lower end of the rose tattoo on her hip and thigh. She’d trusted him on so many levels, physically. It made him happy to realize that the trust went both ways. Even though this child wasn’t hers, she was helping him to adjust the best way she knew how. She hadn’t called it quits with him last night, when Seth’s priorities and practically his whole life had changed. She wouldn’t just walk out, like Tamar. And she was helping him to close the door on that past.
Careful not to disturb them, he brushed an errant curl from her cheek and then lay there watching the moonlight caress her skin. Toby’s eyelashes fluttered, but he drifted back to sleep after taking hold of the finger Seth held out to him. Unable to resist, he leaned forward a few inches and kissed Toby’s forehead. He still couldn’t believe he was a dad but he’d do the best job that he could.
Chapter Eighteen
When he finally gave up on sleep altogether, Seth got up, closed the bedroom door so Jayne and Toby wouldn’t be disturbed, and went into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. To gather his thoughts, he sat down with his sketchbook and started drawing, committing from memory the image of Jayne curled up with Toby on the plain white page. The drawing brought words to mind and he flipped the page and wrote them down for her. Recalling the photograph with the message written in French they’d found with Toby’s papers, he pulled out the picture and turned on his laptop.
He found a website that could do a French-to-English translation, and twenty minutes later he read the translation of the message on the back of the photograph.
My name is Mimi and I have cared for Toby this past year. It is my hopeful prayer that this message is found by his father or someone else who cares about him. He is a good baby and very loving. I am employed in the home of a man who has no care for him and believe Tamar is doing her best to take Tobias where he will be safe and cared for. If she has abandoned him, as I fear she may do, please love him and take good care of him. Tamar has not spent much time with him and I fear the lack of mother bond may cause her to make a rash decision. I’ve packed this bag with some of his toys and any medicines he might need. He is a strong, healthy boy. There is a birthday present located beneath the removable bottom of his diaper bag. His birthday is September 1st. Will you please give it to him with my love? He has my heart with him, no matter where he goes.
Sincerely,
Mimi Durand
Seth chewed his lip as he looked at the e-mail address beneath her name. It was a generic internet e-mail address, much like his. No harm could come from letting Mimi know that Toby had made it into good hands and would be taken care of. He noted the wobbly quality of the handwriting, as though her hand shook as she had written it. He knew how defensive and attached his mother was to him and Lucy and imagined it must’ve torn Mimi’s heart out to part with Toby. Decision made, he opened an e-mail message window.
* * * *
Jayne woke earlier than normal when Toby stirred and started playing with his toes. Jayne smiled when she caught his lispy, softly phrased passage from a song that had evidently been sung to him each morning. That thought, that someone had loved him enough to sing to him when he woke up, stirred gratitude in her heart for that person and she wondered if they missed Toby as much as she would’ve if the situation was reversed.
“Good morning,” she whispered, noting the empty spot on the other side of them. She’d had a feeling Seth wouldn’t be able to sleep, probably consumed with thoughts of this new responsibility.
Toby smiled at her and mumbled something unintelligible. Unable to resist, she sang the morning song she heard while growing up. “Birdie with a yellow bill, hopped upon my windowsill. Cocked his shining eye and said, ‘Ain’t you ashamed, you sleepyhead.’”