Summer was just around the corner, and Emily didnt look forward to it. It wasnt the heat that bothered her; it was the fact that, once the sun was up, Tom hardly ever came home.
Emily and Tom had been married for seven years. Their life was fairly smooth arguments were more occasional than regular. She was grateful that Tom had taken her on when she was a single mum with a tiny baby. Little Oliver was only about a year old then. When Toms brother Alan heard that his friends sister was pregnant, he vanished from sight, ignored calls and refused to open the door. One day Emily walked into his workshop just to look him in the eye. The future dad trembled so much that she couldnt help but laugh.
Dont worry, Alan, Im not after your kid, she said.
I knew it! I knew! Alan shouted with relief, turning triumphantly to his mates who had been watching the scene. You cant put my name on a child that isnt yours!
Its not your child, its mine, Emily replied calmly. People like you never have their own children everything feels foreign to you.
Alan stared, mouth open, unable to answer. The onlookers turned away, disgusted, and went about their business. Emily left, deciding she never wanted to see that oncebeloved man again.
When Oliver was six months old, Emily asked her mother, who was retired on a modest pension, to look after the baby while she returned to work. Before her maternity leave she had been employed at a furniture shop, and they welcomed her back with gusto. Good, reliable staff are a rarity these days. It was there she met Jack Wilson, a driver who delivered furniture from the factory.
Emily quickly mentioned Oliver; Jack didnt blush, he just said seriously:
Lets get married, youll have another boy then a girl. I love kids.
Emily was taken aback by the speed of his proposal. She wasnt yet ready for another marriage, but the offer was tempting. Jack was handsome, sensible and earned well because he owned his own van. With a baby, a frequently ill mother and no guarantee of how long she could look after Oliver, Emily thought, why not? Within three months she became Mrs. Wilson.
Surprisingly, married life suited her. Jack was diligent, never caused a scene and, most importantly, wasnt jealous. Emily gave him no reason to be. She stayed a faithful wife and hoped he would do the same. When she once asked whether he was seeing anyone else, he chuckled and said hed only consider it if she turned into a flabby old hag in a torn bathrobe. Emily breathed a sigh of relief she had no intention of ever becoming that.
Seven years passed. Jack bought a newer van and now drove all over the country, hauling all sorts of freight. He earned well but was rarely home. Emily opened her own furniture shop and kept busy to avoid boredom. Oliver, now eight, was a goodnatured lad who loved sport and already had a few medals. He adored Jack, even though he knew the man wasnt his biological father, and tried hard to make him proud.
Emily never managed to have another baby, even though theyd both been checked up five years earlier. Doctors chalked it up to simple incompatibility. Emily took the news in stride after all, she already had Oliver but she felt a pang of guilt toward Jack, having promised him another child. When Jack realised thered be no joint offspring, he fell into a slump, then, a couple of years later, bounced back with renewed cheerfulness. He became even more caring, taking an interest in the shop and Olivers achievements, which pleased Emily immensely. She loved that Jack had come to terms with their childfree status and returned to his old self.
Jacks parents lived about a hundred miles away in a sleepy village. He often spent the night there, sometimes more than once in a row. Emily was a touch peeved that he seemed to be at his parents more often than at home, but she comforted herself with the thought that they were already in their sixties. Their old cottage needed occasional help from a son. Emily never quarreled with Jack about it; she feared stirring up the gloom that had plagued him for two years after the news about their fertility. After all those years together, she was not just grateful to Jack, she truly loved him with all her heart. She could not imagine them parting ways, and she would endure any hardship for him.
One May evening, a vague anxiety settled over Emily. She couldnt pin down the cause perhaps it was the lingering thought that Tom rarely visited in summer, or maybe she was simply growing weary of his absence. She dialled his mobile:
Hey love, where are you? At your folks again? Why does your voice sound so strange? Did something happen? Sorry if Im being a bother. Bye.
She stared at the darkened screen, on the brink of tears. Tom had never spoken to her so bluntly. All shed asked was why his voice sounded sad. Unsure what to do, she paced the house, then, unable to stand still, she drove Oliver to his grandmothers and set off for the village where Jacks parents lived.
She arrived late, and Jacks van was nowhere in sight. Disappointed, she knocked on the door. Mrs. Helen Thompson, Jacks mother, seemed a little embarrassed but welcomed her warmly, ushered her in and set the kettle going. Mr. George Thompson was already fast asleep, so the house stayed quiet. Emily was about to explain her unease when a sleepy little girl, about three, shuffled out of a bedroom. She looked oddly like a tiny version of George and Jack combined, rubbing her eyes and calling for Mum. Helen swooped in, cradling the child and humming a simple lullaby.
Whats this little one doing here? Emily asked, bewildered.
This is our niece, Lily, Helen hurriedly replied. Her mother, Lisa, died a few days ago. She had nobody else, so we took Lily in.
Are you going to keep her? Emily asked sympathetically. It must be hard, shes still a baby. And wheres her father?
Before Helen could answer, George emerged, looking halfasleep. He stared at Emily, then, after a moment, gave a small nod and turned back to his bedroom.
Emily, assuming his silence meant grief over Lisas death, turned back to Helen.
Mum, may I stay the night? I could look after Lily, she said, hoping to help.
Helen hesitated, then agreed. The whole night Emily lay awake, gently stroking Lilys light curls, already planning how to tell Tom and the Thompsons the next day.
When dawn finally broke, she woke to the feeling of someone watching her. She sat up to find Jack standing beside the bed, eyes fixed on both her and the sleeping Lily, his expression tense and a hint of fear in his gaze.
Jack, please, can we adopt her? Ill raise her as my own, I promise, Emily pleaded, a smile trembling on her lips.
Jack turned and fled the room. Emily scrambled after him, finding him on a bench beneath an old oak in the garden, tears glistening.
Im sorry, he whispered, voice cracking. Im sorry.
For what? Emily asked, bewildered. You dont want to take her? I get it you wanted a child of your own, but fate had other plans. Lily even looks a bit like you; shell be family, youll see.
Jack closed his eyes, grinding his teeth.
She looks like me, because shes my daughter, he shouted. Im sorry. I love you, truly. It was a oneoff mistake, foolish and accidental. Lisa lived with her old aunt in the next hamlet. I went to a friends birthday, and before I knew it, she was pregnant. She declared shed marry a foreigner and didnt want to take the child with her. She brought Lily here two days ago, paperwork in hand, saying I could adopt her. My parents knew about Lisa, they condemned me, but whats done is done. I didnt know what to do. I was scared, my parents are old now. Lily can stay with me only if you agree to adopt her.
Emily was stunned into silence. She rose, drifted back into the house, and sat beside the sleeping Lily. She tried to find something to despise in the childs face, but only saw Jacks features reflected there the man she loved. Tears slipped over her cheeks, but she didnt wipe them away, as if hoping the tears might wash away the hurt.
Then Lilys tiny hand brushed hers, her blue eyes sparkling.
Dont be sad, Im not sad. Let me braid your hair, she chirped.
Emily stopped crying, laughed softly, and imagined Lily as a child in a councilrun nursery, crying unnoticed, then she shrugged, wiped her cheeks and gently hugged the little girl.
Alright, Ill braid you later. Im not great at braids yet, but Ill learn, Emily whispered.
A few weeks later a court granted them custody of Lily. Oliver was thrilled to have a little sister; he declared hed protect her as the older brother. Jack gave up longhaul routes and, together with Emily, expanded their furniture business, opening a second shop.
Emily never quite forgot Jacks brief infidelity, but she forgave him, never nagging. She could see the genuine remorse in his eyes.
At the end of December, Emily, Oliver, Lily and Jack returned home from a school Christmas concert. Lily beamed because Father Christmas had handed her a massive box of sweets. She ran to her dad, wrapped him in a hug and whispered:
Daddy, what did I ask Santa for? Another brother or a sister.
Jack looked alarmed and answered, Love, Santa cant grant that, ask for something else.
Why not? Emily teased with a grin. Can we deny a sweet little girl?
Jack froze, staring at his wife, who laughed and nodded. When Oliver burst in from his football practice, he found Jack, laughing, twirling Emily around the living room, while Lily, chocolatecovered, perched on the sofa, shrugging her shoulders. Oliver plopped down beside Lily, plucked a candy and said:
Cool parents weve got, eh, sis?
