Rose stared at the street as Jack drove away, moving quickly through the city traffic. Her eyes filled with more tears as she watched him go, blurring her vision.
Lizzy brought her back to the present. "Mommy?"
Rose quickly wiped her eyes with her free hand. "Yes, Lizzy?"
"Can we go in? It’s cold."
"Of course, sweetie." Setting the girl down, Rose took her hand and walked back toward the apartment door.
Once inside, though, she saw the bag of popcorn spilled on the table and the empty baby bottle lying on its side on the counter. Forgetting about maintaining her dignity in front of her daughter, Rose sank down against the wall, sobbing quietly.
Lizzy crawled into her lap and put her arms around her mother. "Don’t cry, Mommy."
Rose hugged her back. "Thank you, Lizzy." She made a valiant effort to stop her tears, wondering at the irony of her little daughter comforting her, when before it had always been the other way around.
"Lizzy, what have I done?" she whispered brokenly, not expecting an answer.
Lizzy looked at her, and then, with childish honesty, replied, "You told Daddy you didn’t want to be around him."
Rose choked on a sob. She had once said something similar to her infuriated mother, who had spanked her soundly for her impudence and sent her to her room. It was an incident she had never forgotten, for she had been five years old and believed that her mother really wanted an honest answer to her question.
She didn’t spank Lizzy, though. Instead, she hugged her tighter, rocking her gently. Lizzy put her head on her mother’s shoulder, patting her back comfortingly.
Rose had begun to calm when Lizzy gave her a worried look and asked, "Mommy, what if Daddy doesn’t come back?"
Rose swallowed back renewed sobs. "He’ll come back, Lizzy."
"But what if he’s too mad at you?"
"Even if he’s mad at me, he’s not mad at you. He’ll come back to see you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, Lizzy. I’m sure."
"Baby Paul went away and didn’t come back."
"That was different, Lizzy. He died."
"What if Daddy dies?"
Rose squeezed her eyes shut at the thought. "He won’t, Lizzy. Not for a long, long time."
Lizzy considered this. "What if you die, Mommy?"
Rose hugged her. "I won’t die for a long time, either, Lizzy."
"Would you be sad if I died?"
"Oh, Lizzy, of course I would. Your Daddy and I would miss you so much…"
"Would you fight about me if I died?"
"I don’t know, Lizzy. We’d both be very sad."
"I don’t like it when you and Daddy fight."
"But we don’t do it very often, Lizzy. We just…got mad at each other today."
"Mommy…"
"Lizzy, why don’t we go watch the movie you picked out? We’ll have some popcorn and…" She glanced around the kitchen, realizing that she had never gotten around to making her vegetable dip. "…some ice cream. What do you say?"
Lizzy brightened at the thought of an extra helping of ice cream. "Okay, Mommy." She got out of her mother’s lap, reaching for the bag of popcorn on the table and picking up the spilled pieces. As Rose slowly got up, she looked at her and hugged her legs.
"Don’t be sad, Mommy. Daddy’s gonna come back, and Baby Paul is with Jesus and Great-Grandpa."
Rose swallowed hard, giving her little girl a tentative smile as she got the ice cream from the freezer.
*****
Hours later, Rose tucked her tired, sad daughter into bed, singing her the bedtime song that had been hers since she was an infant and reading her a short bedtime story. Lizzy only half-listened, wanting to know why her daddy wasn’t back yet. Rose assured her that he would be there in the morning before pulling the covers up to the child’s chin. Lizzy was still worried, but her tiredness overcame her worries as her mother sat beside her, rubbing her back gently through the layers of blankets and whispering that everything would be okay.
When Lizzy had finally fallen asleep, Rose left her room quietly, going back out to the living room and curling up on the couch. The television was on, but she paid no attention to the inane sitcom with the canned laughter. She, too, was worried, though she had tried not to let Lizzy know it.
Rose had been upset all afternoon. Even when they were watching the movie Lizzy had chosen, The Lion King, she had brooded, crying occasionally at the movie, though never had before. She had managed to hide her tears from Lizzy in the darkened living room, though the child had looked at her with worry when she had sniffed hard.
Later, at dinner, Rose had only picked at her food, allowing Lizzy to take what she wanted of the uneaten portions. The little girl had been so tired that she hadn’t asked about her usual Sunday after-dinner treat of ice cream, and had stubbornly forced herself to stay awake long enough play a game of Candyland and take a bath. By then, she had been wired, and it had taken considerable patience and soothing on Rose’s part to get her to go to sleep.
Now, Rose lay curled up on the couch, the television droning in the background. It didn’t interest her, but instead of taking the time to turn it off, she just tuned it out, lost in her own thoughts.
Where was Jack? She had been serious when she had told Lizzy that he would come back, but that had been hours ago. She had reasoned that he might have gone for a long drive to cool his temper, maybe stopped somewhere for dinner, but it was nearly nine o’clock now, and he had left around two. Even if he had decided to stay someplace else for the night, he should have called to let her know where he was. Even if he was still upset with her, he would have wanted to reassure Lizzy.
On impulse, Rose got off the couch and picked up the phone, wondering if it was working. The dial tone told her that there was indeed phone service, but it only served to make her more worried. Why hadn’t he called?
After a moment’s thought, Rose dialed Jack’s cell phone number—only to hear the phone ring from the bookshelf. He’d forgotten it.
She took her own cell phone from her purse, checking to see if it was working. When she found that it was, she checked for missed calls, but there were none.
Rose sank back down onto the couch, more worried than ever. Pay phones were harder to find than they used to be, but they did still exist. Even if he didn’t have change for a call, he could have called collect.
Jack, where are you? Rose turned off the television and went to the window, looking down at the street below. Several vehicles passed by, and one turned into the parking garage of their apartment complex, but it wasn’t Jack’s car.
Her face set in worried lines, Rose went back to the couch, curling up again with her head against the arm. Where are you, Jack? Why haven’t you come home yet?
A thousand scenarios went through her mind, each worse than before. He was stranded in an isolated area. He was off drinking in some bar. He’d found another woman. There’d been another car accident, and he was lying in the hospital somewhere, or worse, the morgue. He’d decided not to come back.
Rose got up, pacing back and forth in worry. Jack, where are you? Please come back. Please come home. I shouldn’t have screamed at you and said those things. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Things have been so tense…it just came out. I didn’t mean any of it.
Please, Jack, come home.