I grabbed a blanket from the hall closet. “You better sit by the fire in the living room and get warm,” I said. She sat on the sofa and I snuggled the blanket around her. Girl jumped onto the sofa and I swatted her off. “Get off, Girl. You smell like a dog. Go to the garage. Go!” Girl tucked her tail between her legs and headed toward the kitchen.
“Can she stay with me?” Emily asked. It was no use. Since Emily had arrived I was outnumbered. I snapped my fingers and Girl darted back to the living room.
“Stay on the floor,” I said, holding her head down. I made Emily some hot chocolate and took it to her. Girl lifted her nose toward the cup. “Don’t even think about it,” I said. I kissed Emily on the head. “I’m going upstairs to throw in a load of laundry but I’ll be right back.” I walked upstairs and could see Mark through the crack in Sean’s door. He’d be leaving for work soon. I gathered the dirty clothes out of the hamper in my bathroom and walked into Emily’s room to clean the clothes she’d worn yesterday. When I walked out of the room I saw Mark in the laundry room straightening the arms of a sweater.
“It says ‘lay flat to dry’ but I like to lay on my side,” he said.
I smiled. It was the first time he’d said anything funny to me in months.
“Will she be adopted?” His back was to me as he worked with the sweater.
“I hope so,” I said.
“She wants to stay with us.”
For some reason those words hurt. Why did Emily ask Mark and not me? I shook my head. Of course she asked him. I had brought her into our home but I had been guarded. And she sensed it. Kids always do. I went through all the proper actions but Mark was the one who made Emily feel at ease. I sighed. No matter what I did or how hard I tried I would never be comfortable with children in the house again. None of that would make sense to Mark, though. I needed to approach him with reality. He knew as well as I did that Emily couldn’t stay with us because we weren’t foster parents.
“She likes it here,” he said. Despite what Mark and I had become to each other Emily felt safe with us. He didn’t look at me but kept fussing with the sweater.
“She couldn’t stay with us,” I said. “It would never be allowed.”
We were quiet. For too long now we’d let the silence rule in our house.
“You’ve bent the rules before, Patricia. She could at least stay with us through Christmas. A couple more days aren’t going to make a difference. It just seems that she should spend Christmas with Hal and Greta and …” I waited for him to say it. “And with us.”
“I’ve bent the rules for an overnight stay, Mark. Never for several days. I could lose my job.”
He stopped his work and looked out the laundry room window. “Everybody needs a break, Patricia; especially a little five-year-old girl who doesn’t have her mother at Christmas.”
“I can’t, Mark. You know that.”
“You can’t or you won’t? There’s a difference. There hasn’t been a child in this house since Sean died. Over the years you’d bring one of your cases home for a meal or something but not anymore. Why is that, Patricia?” I could feel heat on the back of my neck. I just couldn’t have a child in the house. Not now. Not ever. It hurt too much.
“Because it’s just never worked out.” I didn’t even convince myself when I said it.
“Well, now it is working out, and that little girl needs a place to stay for Christmas. Years from now I don’t want her to remember being in a home with strangers after her mom died. I want her to remember that she was with people who cared about her. That’s all.” Mark had always been a kind person; it’s one of the reasons I fell in love with him. I crossed my arms and leaned against the door, staring at the floor.
“Then she’ll stay,” I finally said. “But aren’t you working on Christmas Day?”
His back was still to me. “No. I rearranged my schedule yesterday.” He continued to straighten the sweater.
I wanted to say something, I wanted to touch Mark, I wanted to help him with that stupid sweater or do anything that would keep us talking but I didn’t know what to do so I walked into the hallway, closed the laundry room door, and went downstairs.
SIX
There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.
—Leonard Cohen
Emily was asleep on the sofa. Girl lifted her head when I walked into the living room. “Shh,” I said, motioning for her to lie back down. The phone rang and I ran for it. “Hello?”