Jane Rizzoli opened her eyes slowly, her mind buzzing like the flies that were already circling on this hot, September day. Today would have been her due date, of course, her doctor had laughingly told her that a due date was just a guess, really, the baby would have been more likely to arrive on any of the days within two weeks of either side of that date; but today would have been the day, Jane felt it in her heart. She ran a hand over her smooth, flat stomach where, for eighteen weeks, she had tried to ignore the life there. Growing each day, moving even. That part she hadn't shared with anyone, that part had been only hers. Maura and her mother had been so invested in her pregnancy, she didn't know why she hadn't told them when she first felt the baby move, but she hadn't. In the dark pre-dawn hours she'd often laid awake, hand on the slight curve that had been forming, just being alone with her baby. The child that she hadn't been planning on, had never imagined, the child everyone around her thought she didn't care about. She knew Maura and Angela meant well, but they're hovering and insistences about certain aspects of her pregnancy had angered her… not to the point she said anything. She had cared, did care. Cared so much the reality of losing that baby still cut like a knife every single day. Her baby. Her daughter. Yes, a daughter, something else that even Maura and her mother didn't know, that she knew her baby would have been a girl… that late the first night in the hospital she'd been discovered with tears streaming down her face by a nurse who had taken one look at her, left the room, then returned with a tiny bundle in a pink blanket.
"I'm not technically supposed to do this. Technically, a fetus lost before twenty-four weeks is considered medical waste. I had someone do this for me once, hardest thing I've ever done, but I'm glad they did."
The nurse gently placed the bundle in Jane's arms, "You can choose whether you look or not."
To Jane, it'd felt like she was holding an empty blanket, her heart pounded and the tears continued to spill over and down her cheeks. She remembered taking a breath, holding it, and lifting the corner of blanket that had been covering the baby's head. Her breath had left in a hurry, so tiny, she thought, so very, very tiny… and beautiful, perfect. Not even stopping to think, she had tucked the tiny girl under her hospital gown, and lay there for over an hour with her daughter against her chest. She had let the tears fall, let her shaking fingers stroke the impossibly tiny face and head. Time stopped altogether and suddenly the nurse was back.
"I really need to take her now. I'm sorry."
"Where will she go?"
"To the hospital crematory."
"I want her back."
"I'll see to it myself, I promise you that. Even the tiniest life deserves memory."
"Thank you."
Carefully re-wrapping the blanket around the tiny body, Jane placed a kiss on the dark curls of the baby's head and whispered a secret in the deaf ear; praying the spirit would hear, and handed the bundle back to the nurse who had just changed her life forever.
That nurse had slipped back in her room the next afternoon, when Jane was between guests. She carried a music box; small, with a dark wooden base and a figure of a dark haired angel-child that appeared to be blowing a kiss.
"Most people choose to put the remains in a stuffed animal or a doll, but I didn't think you are most people Ms. Rizzoli."
Jane wordlessly accepted the music box, her eyes starting to shine all over again.
"You'd think I'd be out of tears by now."
"A mother is never out of tears for her child… nor out of smiles."
At that, Jane found herself smiling through her tears without even realizing it as she fingered the porcelain child.
"I guess not."
Looking up to thank this stranger who was risking her license to bring some solace to Jane, she discovered herself alone.
A week finally dragged by with no more visits from the kind nurse, and the morning came when the doctor who'd been overseeing her recovery waltzed into the room on rounds.
"How are we doing today, Jane?"
"Um… better, feeling stronger, ready to go home."
"Not subtle at all are you?"
"No, subtlety is not in my vocabulary."
"Alright, then, down to it. You are healing nicely both from your injuries and from, the, um, the… Anyway, there will be continuing pain and discomfort as you heal, but I see no reason why you can't be bored and in pain in your own bed. I'm giving you a discharge date of the end of the week, just to be sure, but after that, we'll get you out of here."
"That's great! Oh, um, there's a nurse I'd really like to thank, but I haven't seen her since the first full day I was here."
"Well, what's her name and I will see about tracking her down for you."
"Oh, I didn't catch her name, I don't think she was wearing a name tag and she didn't mention it. She was probably average height, average weight, short brown hair, green eyes, had a bit of a Southern twang."
"Hmm, I don't think we have a staff member with a Southern accent, the furthest south we have on this floor is me and I'm from Kentucky."
"Uh, well, maybe I was mistaken. Thank you, though, I'll be glad to get out of here."
"No problem, good luck to you, Detective."
The memory fading, Jane tossed her sheet back and stood, the condo silent, another reminder of what she had lost. No one else was in the room, but Jane still padded quietly to her closet, as if she was expecting to be caught doing something she shouldn't. She opened the doors and knelt down to rummage through the mess on the floor of the closet, she found the bag she'd hidden the music box that mystery nurse had given her… after her disappearing act, Jane had stowed the gift in a bag, in another bag and hadn't looked at it since. She stared at the figurine for a moment and then turned it over to wind it up; girly she was not, but Jane had a hard time resisting a music box, she always had. She nearly dropped the thing when her mind processed what was on the bottom of the dark base, a small plaque, with an engraving:
Mallory- You Are My Sunshine
The tears welled up, blinding Jane as she fumbled to turn the winding key, already knowing the tune she would hear. Yes, there it was, the song she'd sing to her still slim belly in the early mornings when it was only herself and the little life inside her. Had it been about something else, or anyone else, Jane would have strapped on her badge and gun and barged into the hospital demanding to know just who in the hell this nurse was and who the hell she thought she was, that she would know the name Jane had picked and the song she sang to an empty room; but, this time, Jane felt a sort of calm longing that confused and yet comforted her.
"Yes, sweet Mallory, who I never got to know; you are my sunshine…"