Evelyn had dared to watch a few minutes of early-morning cable news while Christina slept. The volume was turned almost completely down, but she still got the gist of what was going on. The FBI was on their tail and Wahlman had gone public. His tears were obscene—how could he pretend to cry for a child he never wanted to be born? He made her sick. She had to turn it off.
What if Hal didn’t come through for her? What if he couldn’t find evidence that Wahlman cheated his way to full custody? Without that proof, she had no defense. And then what? Would she keep running forever, depriving Christina of her grandfather and home? She felt crushed by the weight of what she’d done.
“Sing the mussels song, Aunt Cricket. Please?”
She smiled sadly, thinking how she began singing the traditional song to her niece soon after she was born, just as Evelyn and Amanda’s mother had done when they were young. After Amanda died, Chrissy began requesting the song whenever she needed reassurance. It broke Evelyn’s heart.
“Sure, sweetie. And thank you for using the word ‘please.’”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you for saying ‘you’re welcome.’”
Christina giggled, and Evelyn joined her. Well, why not? Maybe giggling was the best option at a time like this. Eventually, their laughter drifted away. Evelyn held her niece tighter and began to sing, her voice barely above a whisper.
In Dublin’s fair city,
Where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying . . .
“Cockles!” Christina sang, right on cue.
And . . .
“Mussels!”
Alive, alive, oh!
Evelyn stopped there. “Hey, Chrissy?”
“Mmm?” Her face was still pressed to Evelyn’s chest.
“I need your help with something.”
The little girl lifted up and studied Evelyn, narrowing her eyes. “Did you forget the words to the song?”
“No. But I need your help with something important. I need you to be a big, brave girl this morning. Do you think you can do that?”
She gave it some thought, then nodded.
“Do you know I love you bunches?”
“Yes. I love you bunches, too.”
She kissed her warm forehead. “I know you do, Jellybean. So here’s how you can be big and brave for me. Do you have your listening ears on?”
She nodded.
“Good. We’re going to get our stuff right now and run through the rain all the way to the dock. You can ride piggyback. We’ve never done that before, have we?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head.
“Let’s see how fast we can go, okay? And I promise that I’ll sing the mussels song the whole way. Are you willing to try?”
Suddenly, her eyes widened. “Are we going to get wet?”
“Oh, yes, we sure are. Soaking wet. Have you ever gotten that wet in the rain before?”