Page 74 of Good and Gone

Her eyes meet mine. “I don't think that's how this works.”

56

Hailey

Six Months Later

Middle America is about like I expected it would be. Nice and boring. But the people are great. WITSEC, or the Witness Security Program, is not exactly what I thought. We can still keep in touch with our families, both by phone and email using secure lines. Emails are deleted once they’ve been read. The kids kept their first names. Tyler and I have changed ours, and we all have a new last name.

I’m currently working from home for a marketing company. Tyler sells real estate.

Our new home is a two-story colonial painted white with black shutters that sits on eighteen acres. The front porch wraps around the entire house and the fenced backyard is big enough for the kids to roam around.

We have a dog now, and though I desperately miss Austin, we're all adjusting as best we can. One thing about being here, and needing to keep to ourselves until things settle, is that we all have a lot of time on our hands. Tyler has taken to setting up a shop in our detached garage and I pass the hours by baking.

I’m working on a new recipe in the kitchen when Tyler comes in, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Come see," he says, taking me by the hand. "The kids are really proud."

I follow him out into the garage where Lily and Mason are seated, covered in paint. "Talk about waiting until the last minute," I say, rubbing my stomach.

"It's pink!" Lily squeals.

"That means it's a girl," Mason grumbles. "I'm outnumbered."

I hadn't wanted to know the sex, but Tyler did. He insisted on building a cradle to reveal the gender and to get the kids involved and excited. Lily insisted on painting it. "It's perfect," I say. "You're natural woodworkers, the three of you."

"Maybe we should start a YouTube channel," Tyler jokes, and I roll my eyes. And then I smell something burning. "Oh, shit! The cake."

I waddle-run back to the house. But Tyler beats me to it. He pulls the cake out of the oven and then opens all the windows and clears out the smoke. "Do you like it?" he asks. "The cradle?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful."

"Are you sure?"

I swore I was having a boy, but it’s a good kind of shock. All along, Lily insisted she was having a sister, but my daughter has always seemed to understand more than is seen with the naked eye. “I’m sure.”

"Two weeks," he says with a smile.

"Two weeks." I don't know whether to be thrilled or terrified, and it seems to switch back and forth by the minute. I told everyone I’d had a miscarriage, including my mother. I’d planned on not having the baby. But then we moved, and I couldn’t go through with those plans.

Part of me wanted to, but the other part felt like I needed something to hang on to. I still haven’t decided whether that was the right decision. I suppose time will tell. When I finally told my mother the truth, she said there’s no possible way I won’t fall head over heels with this child.

“You’ll see,” she said. “Babies are impossible not to love.”

Deep down, I know my mother is right. Still, I wonder if it’ll be possible to look at her and not see him. Will she always be a reminder? I asked Tyler this, and he said, “Maybe. But maybe not the kind you think. Life goes on, Hailey. She’s proof.”

Sometimes I wonder if he’s really that optimistic. I know he has his own fears. “Lily is still set on naming her Reese,” he says to me now. He gets worried if I get too quiet.

"I'm aware."

He gives me a hopeful look. “Well?”

"We'll see."

“I can’t wait.”

“You keep saying that.”

“It’s true,” he says, and I believe him. I wasn’t sure how he’d feel about the baby, considering the circumstances, but if he’s pretending, he’s very good at it. Better than me, that’s for sure. “You gonna bake another cake?”

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