He was a gift. A joy. He made her feel she’d mastered motherhood; he was that wonderful.
Jessie was hard on her, often critical and difficult to please. Jessie filled her with nervousness because Anna was always afraid of saying the wrong thing and being the victim of Jessie’s sudden and impossible anger. Jessie, like her brother and sister, was very attractive and smart. All three kids had dark hair and amazing blue eyes, like Chad’s, and had excelled in school. Yet they were as different as night and day.
Bess, the reward for putting a fractured marriage back together, was an enigma. She was solitary, introverted, brilliant in school, even skipping a grade, but she didn’t always play well with other children. Three seemed to be her limit and then only if the spirit moved her. Crowds, even a normal-size classroom, made her anxious. She never seemed to be lonely when her older brother and sister ignored her; she was independent and self-oriented but she could be convinced to share nicely. She was absolutely no trouble at all and there might lie a problem—she didn’t seem to need anyone. No one. There were times she seemed withdrawn but it would turn out she was only entertaining herself with a book or experiment. One of Anna’s friends asked if it was possible she was on the spectrum, but by the time the question came they had already concluded she might be, and she was high-functioning and a happy child. Bess was incredibly literal. You said I wasn’t to go out but you didn’t say out of what, so I didn’t go out of the yard but I did go out of the house because, frankly, I was feeling stuffed inside. That was when she was eight.
Anna had immediately done some research and her brilliant conclusion was that it was probable Bess was mildly autistic and she watched for problems associated with the disorder. But Bess was content and rarely frustrated. She was perhaps a little odd sometimes, compared to other children, but she was also brilliant with an amazing memory and—
Anna’s mind skidded to a halt right there as she recognized a woman, the young woman from the memorial service. She was pushing a stroller across the grass. In the weeks since Chad’s death, she had given birth.
She found a spot not too far from Anna, parked the stroller and pulled out a blanket. She settled herself on the ground beside her baby. She was so beautiful, sitting on the blanket in her slim jeans and sandals, her blondish hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Anna rewrapped what was left of her sandwich and put it in her purse. She found herself walking toward the young woman and baby, unsure what she would do or say when she got to them.
“What a beautiful baby,” Anna said, and meant it. “How old is she? I assume she’s a little girl, given the amount of pink all around her.”
“Thank you. Yes, this is Gina. She’s six weeks.”
Anna took a deep breath and looked skyward as if enjoying the summer warmth. So, she had given birth not long after Chad’s death.
The park wasn’t large by San Francisco standards and was up on a hill with a partial view of the bridge. There was a bike path at the bottom of the hill and some wonderful Victorian-style townhomes.
“You picked a beautiful day to introduce her to the park,” Anna said. She dropped one knee to the ground in a semicrouch. “I promise not to get too close.”
“Thank you.”
“She has the most amazing rosy complexion, doesn’t she? And that beautiful dark hair.”
“My husband is dark. He’s Indian.”
“I am that,” said a male voice. Anna started to rise and a very handsome man said, “No, stay where you are and continue to admire my daughter.” He held a take-out cup toward her while he handed one to his wife. “It’s coffee, black with cream and too much sugar.”
“Oh, I couldn’t! I’ve invaded your family time long enough!”
“Stay,” the young woman said.
“Stay,” said the man. Then, looking at his wife, he said, “I apologize, there was a call while I was in the coffee shop and I must step away and return it. I won’t be long, I promise. I’ll just return the call and walk back to the shop at the same time and get another coffee. If you’re all right?”
“Perfect,” she said. “Take your time.”
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. She reached up and clasped his hand. There was such love between them that Anna knew she’d been wrong about her suspicions. Then off he strode, leaving the baby and mother to Anna and she couldn’t imagine this young woman ever being unfaithful.
“Your husband is a very kind and trusting man,” Anna said.
“Nikit is good to the soles of his feet. And I don’t think you mean us any harm,” she said, adding a lovely smile.
“Is this your first baby?” Anna asked.
“She is, and it all happened much faster than either of us expected. We got married, talked about starting a family and zip! Here she was. And everything about it was fast!”
They talked for a while about children and families. This charming young woman, Amy, was a nurse practitioner. Her husband a doctor. They met at work. It was a first marriage for both of them but they had quite a lot to overcome since Nikit’s family had promised him to another Indian woman, even though Nikit had warned them he wouldn’t cooperate.
“I’m pretty sure my mother-in-law still resents my intrusion,” Amy said.
“You appear to be very secure in your husband’s devotion,” Anna said.
The baby started to fuss and Amy picked her up. “I’m secure. Tell me about your family.”
“I am recently widowed,” Anna said, even though she was certain she recognized Amy from the memorial service. “I have three grown children.” And she described them in their most admirable light. Jessie, the doctor; Mike, the teacher and coach; Bess, the law student. All such a comfort to her now.
She noticed Nikit just across the way, gazing out in the direction of the Golden Gate Bridge, his back to them and his cell phone to his ear, his coffee in the other hand. He turned once, looked at them and merely lifted his chin to indicate he saw them. He smiled briefly and Amy waved.
They talked for a while about childbirth; it seemed to go with the territory when talking with a new mother. Then they talked briefly about Anna’s job, since her office was not far from this park.
“Which I should get back to,” she said, getting to her feet. “Do you live around here?” she asked.
“We live on Alameda Island. Nikit works in the city and I will go back to work when the baby is a bit older. This is a lovely respite, this baby break. We used to come into the city regularly before we were married. Working in the city, you must spend a lot of time here.”
“I’m usually completely wrapped up in work,” Anna said. “I don’t think I’ve taken the time to enjoy it in years. When I was younger and worked in the city, I spent a lot more time appreciating it. I should do this more often.”
“You should,” Amy said.
“I enjoyed our visit,” Anna said. “Thank you for being so friendly. Have a wonderful day.” Then she turned and began to walk away. Abruptly, she turned back toward Amy. “I apologize,” she said. “My name is Anna.”
Amy smiled up at her. “I know who you are, Mrs. McNichol.”
Anna gasped in surprise, then sank again to her knees, once again that feeling of knowing in her heart that something was happening, yet not knowing what. “Who was my husband to you?” she asked directly.
Amy bit her lower lip for just a moment. “He was my father,” she said.
FIVE
“How old are you?” Anna asked Amy.
“Twenty-eight,” she said. “I haven’t known about my biological father for very long. Just a few years. I imagine you have questions and I don’t know whether I can answer them but I can’t do it today. That’s probably for the best. Take your time and think about what you want to know and let’s get together for a talk.”
“Did he know about you?” she asked.
Amy nodded. “Yes. He contributed to my welfare and education. Apparently he sometimes watched from afar—a high school concert or my graduation. I met him for the first time when I was a teenager but I was told he was an old friend of the family. I found out the whole story when my mother was in the last stages of cancer. I didn’t get in touch until after she had passed away and I only did it because... Well, it was unfinished business. Nikit and I have a real thing about making sure we don’t leave things unfinished in our pasts.”
“Did your mother marry? Have other children?”
She reached into her diaper bag and pulled out a card. “On the back is my cell phone number. Think and digest, then call me and let’s set up a time to get together. Maybe you can take an afternoon and come to the house? It’s easier for me to be at home with the baby.”