Page 10 of High Frequency

Oh yeah, the guilt is thick and bitter in my throat.

“Because I just told her you guys are grandparents.”

“You’re pregnant?” he asks.

“Actually, I have a baby daughter, she was born the twenty-first of April.”

He’s silent for a while. All I can hear are my mother’s sniffles, and I’m on the verge of tears myself.

This is the problem with bad decisions; the consequences often aren’t only yours to bear.

When his voice comes back on, it’s carefully measured, but I can hear the barely contained anger.

I deserve it.

“I really hope you have some very good reasons why you decided to keep this information from your own mother.”

Lies are what got me here, so honesty is the only way forward.

“I thought there were, but I’m not so sure anymore,” I confess.

The first call is long, and painful, and for me humbling and even humiliating. But when Mom calls me back the next day—after giving herself a chance to process the information—we’re able to have a more productive conversation. I take the opportunity to tell her about Jeff, not as an excuse, but for the sake of total transparency.

At the end of our talk, she prompts me to tell her about the delivery, which had been fast and furious, and asks for me to send her pictures. At least that’s something I can do for her, having chronicled as many moments in Aspen’s short life as I’d been able to capture on my phone.

The following day I call back via FaceTime, and watch my mother and Steve fall in love with my daughter. By the end of that call, Mom announces she’s coming to Montana for a visit, and I’m determined to have a decent plan in place by then.

My next call is to Junior Ewing to let him know I can officially start first thing tomorrow.

“It’s a good thing you’re so damn adorable, you little stinker.”

Aspen is leaking drool and smiling her gummy smile at me while I try to get her dressed again.

We’d been ready to head out the door when I heard a distinct rumbling, much too loud for a body that small. Even before I lifted her out of the car seat, my nose alerted me to what I would find. Good thing I had an extra early start this morning, thanks to a restless night with this little girl.

Teething, already. I wasn’t aware babies could start this early, but according to Pippa they can.

Aspen was fussy all night, waking up crying several times, and I finally gave up on trying to sleep. Instead, I surfed the web on my phone, reading up on the milestones and developmental stages of a four-month-old, including what to expect when they’re teething. Apparently, diarrhea is not an unusual side effect, hence the impressive blowout requiring a quick hose-down in the tub, and a completely new outfit.

The house is already empty when I carry my daughter back to her car seat, which I’d abandoned by the front door. Sully had been out the door at the crack of dawn, something about picking up a horse in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. I know Pippa had a busy schedule at her auto shop today but had to drop Carmi off at school first.

Today is my first—official—day at work, which is why Aspen is going to go back to the ranch where Ama and Alex have volunteered to look after her.

I looked into daycare and there is one in town, but they have a waiting list I added Aspen’s name to. One of the ladies at the daycare gave me the name of a woman who does home childcare, but she doesn’t take babies under six months.

I was starting to panic, wondering if I should pass on the job and coast on my meager savings until I could secure care for my daughter. But when Pippa heard I was considering blowing off the position with the Sheriff’s Office, she told me not to make any stupid decisions. Two hours later, I was handed a babysitting schedule for the next two weeks.

Pippa, her sister, Nella, my uncle, Ama, and Alex all have volunteered for shifts. Even Lucy—who is married to Bo and self-admittedly is better with animals than people—appeared to have volunteered for a shift. One thing is sure, Aspen is going to end up with a lot of aunties.

Coming to Libby had been a bit of a knee-jerk decision, and I wasn’t sure if it would work out, but it sure looks like I made the right call. They say it takes a village to raise a child, which, in Aspen’s case, seems to be a fair statement.

After those first two weeks, my mom plans to be here for the next two, and I have a feeling she won’t want to share any time she can have with her granddaughter.

All of that means I should be covered for childcare for the next month, leaving my hands free to get a good grip on my new job.

I’m starting with a return visit to the hospital, where I’m hoping Chelsea—the girl they found up near Kenelty Mountain—has recovered enough from her ordeal to the point she’ll be able to answer some of my questions. Something she wasn’t able to do when I rode in the back of the ambulance with her a couple of days ago.

Alex is waiting on the porch when I get to the ranch, and I’m able to hand off my daughter and get out of there without bumping into Dan again. After last time, I hope to avoid a repeat of that uncomfortable encounter. Hearing the bitter disdain in his voice once was enough.

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