Page 26 of Isle of Pain

“I’m gonna put her right here.” She deposits Ember in my arms, the back of her little head fitting perfectly in the crook of my elbow. “Here, support her with your other arm underneath her back and bottom.” I make a nest with my arms and Ember turns toward my chest, her little fists clenched and resting against the hard plains of my body. I doubt I’m very comfortable. Not like Marie.

“What if I drop her?” I ask, uncertainty tasting like ash in my mouth.

“You won’t. You’re seated and she’s half asleep. Once you start feeding her, she won’t be moving much until she’s done. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes. She’s just so small and fragile. I’ve always seen it but never this close. Are you sure she’s fine? Is she even breathing?” I’m rambling. I never ramble. I prefer to say as little as possible, never wasting my breath with useless words. But I can’t seem to stop worrying. Is this what it’s like to be a parent? I’m gonna be sick.

“Make sure to hold the back of her head when you move.” Marie’s voice cuts through the haze of concern and doubt. “I’m only going to rest my eyes anyway so I’ll hear if she’s unhappy.You need to make her burp afterwards. If the gas is stuck in her belly, she’ll cry and she’ll be in pain.”

“Okay.” I nod and hold the bottle to her tiny mouth. It’s hard to decide if I should look at Ember as she watches me from her soulful eyes or at Marie and how the rise and fall of her chest is already slowing down to a stable and slow rhythm. I do both for a long time. Until Ember falls asleep in my arms and a deep calm settles over my shoulders. Maybe because she’s so innocent, but it’s easy holding Ember. I don’t feel like I need to flay my skin from my muscles and bones or that I could get sick if my fingers touch her.

Ember looks so at peace and pure. Her little yellow clothes contrast with my dark tee-shirt and dark jeans, accentuating all the differences between us. The more I look at her, the more I get irrationally angry at anyone who would want to hurt her and any other being like her, so small and defenceless. I press her against me a little tighter and she releases a little snore. My head drops down on its own and I inhale in her dark curls of hair.

I’m not sure what I was expecting but she doesn’t smell like Marie. It’s sweet but also reminds me of fresh laundry and warm bread. Whatever it is, it’s comforting and makes me want to never put her down.

Marie is curled up on the side of the couch, her dark hair falling gently over her face. The sun has come up by now but doesn’t disturb her sleep.

No intrusive thought of how my father died and how responsible I am plagues me. I keep watch over the two new people in my home like a guard dog on duty and everything in my head settles. I usually have to work harder for that to happen. I dread when I’ll sleep tonight because that’s when memories will be back to the surface and now that Marie and Ember are here, I don’t want them to see.

I get up, Ember in my arms, and glide the strand behind Marie’s ear with two fingers, barely caressing the apple of her cheek. She lets out the tiniest moan. My hand freezes over her.

Holding my breath, I lower down my fingers to her cheek again. Featherlight, I slide them down towards the column of her neck. The same sound escapes her lips. It’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I let my hand hover over her shoulder before I reluctantly take a step back. I place Ember into the bed I got her in the small open alcove behind the couch. She sleeps soundly so I leave her there, knowing I’m only a few feet away if she needs me.

Sitting in front of Marie again, I relax into my seat and luxuriate in the sight in front of me. Both Marie and Ember sleep soundly, safe in my home. Nothing has ever felt this good.

15

MARIE

HOW NOT TO FALL WHEN YOUR ROOMMATE SAYS “USE ME”

Iwake with a start, head pounding reminding me that I haven’t touched the precious liquid that annihilates me as much as it gives me life in way longer than I’d like. For once, my lips don’t stick together and my throat isn’t parched so I guess small wins and all that. I turn my head left and right and suddenly, the past few hours come rushing. I’m not home and I can’t see my daughter. The house is shrouded in semi-obscurity. I must have slept all day. I straighten on the sofa and look for Ember but she’s nowhere to be found.

“She’s fed, sleeping soundly in the alcove behind us. She probably needs to be changed but I don’t know how to do that. And I’m not sure you want me to,” a voice like sin says next to me and I deflate, swallowing around the lump in my throat. No one in my family has ever dared stay and watch over me and Ember for a full night.

In the low light, I didn’t see Nico but he’s here. A vigilante sitting on his lounge chair like it’s a throne. The setting sun reflects on his pupils, almost giving him the allure of a beasthidden in the forest, ready to hunt. His dark clothes blend in his surroundings but his posture is relaxed against the back of the chair. I tilt my head to the side and take my time to observe him as he flicks on a vintage lamp by his side. High cheekbones, piercings on his lower lip, short cropped hair and a myriad of tattoos on his arms and hands. He’s magnificent when he’s ready to pounce, but seeing him at ease is soothing.

“What time is it?” I ask just to break the silence becoming heavy between us.

“7 pm.”

Fuck, Ididsleep all day. I don’t know when was the last time I slept that long and that deeply. At least not since the funeral. I haven’t been able to fully rest all alone in my bedroom. The door was always open to Lisa’s space as if my soul was waiting for her to show up. But she never did.

“I need to feed Ember again. And do some groceries for what she’ll need.”

I get up and walk to the kitchen counter to rummage through my bag and take a pen to make a list. I don’t know if they have the same products here than we have on Kalliste but my cheeky baby only likes one brand of formula and I want to make sure I don’t forget anything. I also only have like three diapers in my small suitcase. “Thank you for letting me stay here for a few days,” I add behind my shoulder, not looking at the man whose unwavering attention slowly starts to awaken feelings I’ve never had before.

Nico stands and prowls to me with graceful movements, stopping shy of a foot in front of me next to his dark kitchen counter. “I sent Giulia to get the same formula as the one you had in your bag, and there are diapers in the alcove. I wasn’t sure which size you’d need so I got three different ones. I also looked up online what you would need for her and for yourself sothere is a lot of stuff between there and your room. Baby wipes, tampons and pads, also in different sizes?—”

He continues to list more items he bought for me and I feel my cheeks warm with heat. He stays a foot away from me and I wish I could close the distance and hug him. His kindness is a little too much right now. My lips tremble with emotion. “You didn’t have to do all this, Nico.”

“Of course, I did. I want to take care of you.”

The declaration isn’t something to write home about. It’s pure honesty and almost brutal, warming me from the inside out, throat to stomach. With the way my family has handled me in the past six weeks, it breaks my resolve. A sob escapes me before I can hold it in.

“Why are you crying?” Nico immediately asks, concern raising his pitch.

“Because you’re being very kind. And very honest.”

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