Allison Altman is already waiting for her when she pushes the door to the meeting room open. As always, the other woman is dressed impeccably, from her fitted blazer to her tailored jeans. She is wearing her hair in two long braids that make her look a decade younger than she really is.
She turns at the sound of the door and smiles her broad, warm smile.
"Hello, Jane!"
"Hey Allison," Jane says. As usual, the kindness this woman always bestows on her makes her feel exposed. "Uh, h-how are you?"
Allie's smile doesn't fade. "I'm doing well. I'm so glad you came."
"Well, you sounded like it was urgent on the phone. Is Isl-I mean the baby-is the baby okay?" Jane trips over her words, cursing herself for it. Cursing herself for almost using Isla's name.
Allison is staring at her intently. There is now a little frown creasing the skin between her eyebrows. "…Do you think so little of Henry and me that you think we would give your daughter a new name?" She asks softly.
"I…no," Jane says quickly. She glances around at the mention of Allison's husband, but he doesn't appear. "You two have been so amazing through this whole process. I - I just thought – I – she's not my daughter."
"Jane," Allison crosses her arms, but her expression is sad. "Even if we'd decided to adopt her, she would still be your daughter. She will always be your daughter."
Jane nods, wishing this didn't feel like a knife directly below her ribs before she fully absorbs the sentence.
She looks up, wide-eyed. "Wait, what," she asks, feeling her throat start to tighten. "You… You don't want her?"
Allison shakes her head, frowning deeply. "Jane," she says firmly. "That's not the reason. Of course that's not-"
Jane's hands are shaking. Allison's words barely reach her. "Is it something I did?" She asks. She'd made the agency tell her story up front, and then prescreen the applicants before they came to her. She's made sure the parents who met with her knew what they were getting.
A baby, not a newborn, and one born out of violence and pain.
"Is there something wrong with my bio, or…Did I say something in the interview? I got into college, I just didn't go. And D-dom...her f-father was – he was…he-"
She cannot say his name. Calling him Isla's father is almost worse. The world tunnels and disappears for a moment.
A hand grips her upper arm, and she tries to pull away. She hears herself make a sound that is high and frightened.
Embarrassing.
"Hey, Jane," Allison's voice is right next to her ear. "Look at me…Jane! Sweetheart, take some deep breaths."
Jane tries. She blinks, and Dominic Bianchi's face is above her, his eyes are closed in a combination of pleasure and peace.
Jane clamps her lips together to keep from getting sick.
"Jane," Allison says. "Deep breaths, there you go. There you go, darling. Here, sit down. Let's sit down right here, okay? That's it."
Maura calls me darling, Jane thinks disjointedly.
Dominic can never know. He can never have them. He can't have- "You have to take her," she says thickly, forcing herself back into the present.
When she can open her eyes, it is to see Allison's blue ones looking back at her. They are sitting on the couch in the meeting room. It is the exact place where she handed Isla over to them, just ten days ago.
"You're great people. She'll be so happy and loved with you. I chose you."
She is begging.
She doesn't care. "Please, whatever I did-"
"You are great people, Jane!" Allison says, turning to face her completely.
"You didn't do anything wrong. The reason we're not adopting Isla is because you are an amazing woman. And the two of you need each other. I couldn't split you two up. Not even if I wanted to."
Jane shakes her head. Her heart is starting to pick up again. Why won't this woman understand? "I can't do it. I can't take care of her."
"Well you've had everyone fooled for the better part of four months," Allison responds, teasing. "What's changed?"
Jane thinks of how she'd barely managed to get diapers last week. She thinks of the 'Mommy & Me class she walks by on the way to her therapist.
The one who isn't helping.
"I…I can't protect her," she whispers.
"Oh, is that all?" Allison reaches out, almost all the way. Jane only has to find a little courage to close the gap.
"No parents can protect their children, Jane. Not in the way you're talking about. I know it probably feels insurmountable. I can't imagine what you've been through. But it doesn't make you an unfit mother."
Jane swallows hard. The pressure of Allison's hand is reassuring. When they had met, she'd taken a step back instead of forward. Jane had most of her mind made up at that moment.
"I want what's best for her," she says. "I want to give her…I want her to be happy."
"You were sinking," Allison says gently. "I get it. You might need a different type of help, Jane, okay? But this isn't the answer. Don't give up on her, or yourself."
"Please, Allie," Jane begins, ready to try again to make this woman see, but at that moment there is a baby's squawk from the hallway, and Jane looks around, wide-eyed. She would know that sound anywhere.
A nurse in scrubs with teddy bears patterned on the front is standing in the doorway.
She is holding Isla in her arms.
Jane's hands stop shaking. "Oh, my God."
"Look who it is!" Allison says, standing. "Look who's here, precious girl! Is that Mama? Is that your Mommy?"
Isla looks at Jane and smiles.
Jane is standing, reaching for her daughter before her brain catches up.
"She grew!" she says, taking the baby in her arms. "Oh, she's beautiful."
Allison laughs. "Look at her smile," she says warmly. "She knows who you are. She missed you!"
Jane presses her head to Isla's dark curls. She can't tell if she is laughing or crying. If she is so full of love that nothing else can get through or if she is so full of fear that it is blocking out her ability to process anything.
"I love you," she whispers. And then louder. "I love her."
"I know you do," Allison says. "And it's going to be okay."
Isla. In her arms. Back home.
She will never stop being sorry for the ten days when she thought her daughter better off without her. She will never stop being afraid her daughter would be better off without her.
She cannot do it alone.
"Will you be there?" She asks without thinking, realizing too late how insensitive her request is. "If I need – shit – I'm sorry. That's a horrible thing to ask. I-"
"Shh," Allison says, watching as Isla turns her face into her mother's chest, looking to nurse.
"Of course we will. You can count on us. It will be. Okay."
Jane nods. "Okay."
…
…
"It's good to see you, Jane! How are you feeling today?"
Jane shrugs, taking her seat in her favorite spot in the little office. One of the things she likes about her psychologist is that she knows and remembers Jane's habits. She has already arranged the pillows the way Jane likes them.
"I'm tired," Jane says, settling herself. "Isla has been a bear this week. Fussy and pouty."
Dr. Royer allows herself a small smile. "It could be that she is still over excited from Dr. Isles visit to the city?" she suggests.
Jane looks up at her, smirking. "Jumping right in then?" she asks.
"Well," Dr. Royer's smile grows. "If you recall, we booked you a double session this evening, in case there had been any...difficult times."
Jane hadn't remembered, but the knowledge that she won't be limited to the usual fifty minutes does make her feel better. "I forgot," she says honestly.
"That's promising."
"Yeah…" Jane rubs the back of her neck while she thinks. "It was nice...on the whole, to have her. She started asking me about boundaries without me telling her. And she made sure to ask Isla too."
"You never thought that would be an issue," remarks Dr. Royer.
"No," Jane agrees. "Yeah. It was just...nice."
"And she spent two nights in your apartment," Dr. Royer continues. "That's the first time anyone has done so since the week we first met."
Jane nods.
"I gave her my phone number," she says. "When she was leaving. I...gave her my phone number. And she hasn't called."
Dr. Royer pauses before asking the obvious question. "And how does that make you feel?"
Jane rolls her eyes, but answers. "Relieved."
It was Allison Altman who found Dr. Royer for Jane. Though they'd promised to stay in touch, it was more than a year before Jane called her. She can still remember dialing the phone with shaking hands, listening to Lex and Isla singing along to Bob the Builder in the background.
A year later, and Allison still picked up the phone with a warm sounding, "Jane."
"I...need help." It was only the kindness in the tone that allowed Jane to admit this. "I need help, Allison. Please?"
"Jane?" Dr. Royer's voice brings her out of the memory. "There you are. Where did you go, just now? It didn't seem to be a wholly upsetting place."
"I told Maura that I wasn't going to go back to Boston."
"How did she take that."
Jane frowns a little. "Better than I thought she would."
"Does that worry you?"
Jane shakes her head and then when the silence stretches, she sighs and nods. "Yes," she says. "I think she would move here to be with me."
"Think?" Dr. Royer presses.
"Know," Jane concedes. "She said as much."
"You seem so surprised," Dr. Royer observes. There is just the hint of amusement in her voice. "The Jane who left my office last week was worried that Dr. Isles would bring it up herself."
"Would my Ma want to move here too?" Jane wonders aloud.
"Ah," Dr. Royer says, understanding.
"What would Korsak and Frost and Frankie think? That I just...don't care about them?"
"Perhaps you are getting ahead of yourself," Jane hears the doctor say. She shakes her head, distracted.
"And it's not like there's even such a thing as being 'with' me anymore anyway," she mumbles. "I don't have anything really, to offer."
Dr. Royer clears her throat in apparent disagreement. "I am currently with you, Jane. In the most technical sense," she points out. "And I spend possibly the most time with you outside of your child. And I find you to be an engaging, smart, mildly charming, guarded, and sarcastic woman. You pay me to see you each week, but I do not wish it were less often, nor would I attempt to transfer you to another doctor." She pauses here, possibly to gauge how her small speech is going over, and then adds, "I might even work rather hard to keep you as a patient. I've seen tremendous growth, working with you. And I've become invested in your wellbeing."
Jane makes a motion with her hands, and the Psychologist falls silent.
"That's not fair," Jane says thickly. She squeezes the pillow next to her, comforting herself. "You know all the things to say so that I believe you."
Dr. Royer chuckles. "Let's go back to Saturday morning," she says, still smiling. "Tell me about the day the three of you spent together."
…
…
It stays hard, even after she finds Lex.
Isla is a baby, easygoing and sweet-tempered, but a baby nonetheless, and sometimes when she is crying, Jane will put her down on the changing table, or in her crib, and she will hold her head hard enough to make it ache.
Sometimes she feels like Dominic has her trapped still, from beyond the grave.
This therapist, whom she does not like, she repeatedly asks about how Jane is feeling.
Jane cannot come up with any word other than hard.
It is hard to leave Isla alone, because what if something happens to her. It is hard to be with her all of the time, and love her so deeply, and hate her father so much.
It is hard to bathe her, to feed her, to wrestle her into a onesie when she doesn't want to be dressed. Is Jane holding her miniscule wrists too hard? Does she really have to pat so firmly when she's burping? Jane pumps her breast milk multiple times a day because bringing the baby to her body, coming in contact with another human like that…
She cannot do it.
The therapist nods, not making eye contact, and Jane has the impression that her presence makes the other woman supremely uncomfortable. The idea makes her feel dirty and unwanted.
She decides that she will not go back to that woman. She determines that no therapy is better than inadequate treatment.
When she gets home from the appointment, she finds Lex on the couch with Isla lying on her back on Lex's knees. They are playing some sort of game that ends in Lex blowing a raspberry on Isla's stomach. The action makes the baby squeal and wiggle with laughter.
Jane's eyes burn with jealousy, and Lex must be able to pick up on her mood because when she deposits Isla back into Jane's arms, she says, "She likes singing."
Jane blinks at her. "Singing?"
"Yeah. She likes lullabies and stuff like that. It's just as comforting as cuddling her."
Jane nods, feeling how jerky her movements are in her attempt to keep her emotions in check. She wants to say how fucking grateful she is to this kid for basically giving up a weekend and a weeknight to help a reclusive mother.
She wants to say that she knows Lex read all the articles about her, and Jane's so glad that she hasn't asked about any of it.
She wants to tell her that it is possible that no one else will ever know what the inside of her apartment looks like.
She rubs Isla's back with the tips of her fingers. "Do you want a beer?" she asks. "I mean...it's NA. I don't really - uh - I don't really drink anymore. But do you want one? I was gonna watch TV for a bit before dinner.
Lex smiles and nods.
…
It happens the next day, while Jane is in the kitchen contemplating lunch. She's left Isla on her stomach on her play mat, and eventually, the jingling of the little bell that the baby likes to hit fades into the back of her subconscious. It is only when the silence has stretched for too many minutes that Jane registers the absence of noise.
She walks into the living room.
Isla is not there.
Jane stares at the mat where she'd left her child. She is frozen. She is unable to even blink.
Panic is rising inside her, is warring with powerful and devastating grief. Her baby was here, and now she is not. She is gone, as though someone heard those fleeting moments when she wished it was so.
She doesn't wish it to be so.
She sobs. Hand to her mouth, she makes one, hoarse staccato sound.
From behind the armchair in the corner, a baby echoes her.
A moment later, Isla appears, pushing herself along in a scoot/crawl combo that is too fast for Jane's liking.
The relief knocks the wind out of her. She sinks to her knees and cries as the baby scoots toward her. When she is close enough, Jane gathers her into her arms and hugs her as tightly as she dares.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispers. "You did it!"
Isla looks at her, concerned. "Bleh," she says, putting a tiny hand to Jane's chin. "Ayayay."
Jane guffaws through her tears. "I'm okay," she says. "I thought you were gone. But you're just...you can crawl. You learned all by yourself, Isla! You did so good."
She smiles, and Isla grins back at her. "Ma!" she says.
Jane presses her forehead to her daughter's. "You are going to be so, so smart," she murmurs. "Just like her."
When it is time for Isla to eat, Jane decides, she won't pump.
She will try breastfeeding.
When it is time for her daughter to sleep, she will sing.
…
…
Hi
Jane hits send before she can second-guess herself. It is Thursday, and still, Maura has not texted her. It is clear she is waiting for Jane to do so first. She has understood the importance of being given the number, and she is taking it seriously. She moves to put the phone down, but it buzzes in her palm almost immediately.
Hello, Jane. How are you?
Jane bites her lip, and then ultimately decides to ignore the question.
Isla drew you a picture at school today. She carried it all the way home so it wouldn't wrinkle.
Again the answer is immediate, and Jane can see Maura's face in her mind's eye as she'd typed her response.
Thank her for me. I will love it.
I will.
After that, she doesn't know what to say. She can think back to days when their text conversations were pages and pages long. Just endless texts back and forth about nothing.
About everything.
Jane rubs her hands over her face. She still hates small talk. That is one thing about her that has not changed.
One of the reason that she loved Maura was because she was so bad at it.
Loves. She loves Maura still, whatever that word means to her now.
Thank you for not giving this number to my Ma or anyone.
That is what she decides on. It is how she feels, even if it's not the loudest of her emotions.
Of course
And then.
I had a lovely time this weekend. I can only imagine what it took for you to welcome me into your home. You are still the bravest person I know.
Jane presses the phone to her chest.
"Mommy?"
Jane looks up to see Isla in the doorway of her bedroom. She is holding her favorite stuffed animal, a snowman named Olaf, around the middle, and her light grey eyes are squinty in the light.
"Hey, bean," Jane says, putting her phone down. "You can't sleep?"
Isla shakes her head and comes to sit next to Jane on the couch. She puts Olaf up first and then scrambles to sit on her mother's lap.
"I'm worried," she says, pressing her head back against Jane's chest.
"Oh no," Jane says softly. "What are you worried about?"
"I don't know," Isla says. "It was a dream. It was too scary. I wanted you to hug me."
Jane tightens her hold. "Well I'm holding you right now," Jane says. "And I will until you feel better, okay? And I'll never let anything happen."
"No bad things?" Isla asks.
"Nope," Jane says. She wonders if Isla can hear her heart. It's beating hard inside her chest. She is trying to keep her voice light, and she thinks she is succeeding. Isla sighs contentedly.
"Sing me a song," she says sleepily.
Jane smiles. "Okay. Which one."
"Flowah," Isla says. She hugs Olaf tight and kisses the top of his head. "Mommy'll sing us," She says. "Everything is okay."
Jane nods, leaning them to the side so that Isla is lying down. She kisses the top of her head.
When you sleep softly, the angels come
Like diamonds, like my love
They want to know it's true
There's someone in the world, lovely as you
They hear you when you cry
This love is far and wide
When you smile the stars align
Flower of the universe
And child of mine
"Is there such thing as angels?" Isla asks. She is just on the edge of sleep.
"I don't know," she says honestly.
Isla opens a sleepy eye. "You're a angel," she says. She smiles and nuzzles closer. "My mommy," she mumbles.
Jane presses her lips together but doesn't answer. There is nothing she can say in response.
"Mommy?"
"I'm here, Tiny."
"Will Morah come again?"
Jane smiles. "You like her a lot, huh?"
Isla nods. She puts the end of Olaf's carrot nose into her mouth, a sure sign that sleep is only seconds away.
"Make her come soon," she says. "Sing again."
Jane suppresses a chuckle. "You got it, sweetheart."
They come to see the fire burning in your heart
They want to witness, this love from the start
They hear you when you cry
This love is far and wide
When you smile the stars align
Flower of the universe
And child of mine
…
She wakes up hours later, her neck at an awkward angle against the couch, and Isla pressed into her front like a hot water bottle. She sits up slowly and then stands, bending to pick her daughter up.
"Sleep with you," Isla murmurs, when she is halfway to her bedroom.
"You sure?" Jane asks, "You don't want to sleep in the pirate ship?"
"No," Isla says, a little more awake. "Sleep. With. You."
Jane turns around, holding in a sigh. She will not deny Isla the comfort she gets from snuggling under the covers next to her, but she is still not used to the feeling of someone else in her bed. Even her daughter's tiny body against hers means that she won't get a lot of sleep.
It means that she will wake up, six years and thirteen days after the last time it happened, and check her wrists for bruising.
She slides them under the covers together and then makes sure that Isla's breathing is deep and even before sliding her finger along the bottom of her iPhone.
You are still the bravest person I know.
Jane takes a breath.
Will you come back? She types. Is there any time that's good for you coming up?
She expects Maura to be asleep, but again the phone is buzzing immediately, making Jane scramble to turn off the vibration so as not to wake Isla.
The weekend after next. I have the end of the week off. I could come that weekend.
Isla mumbles in her sleep. She swings Olaf around, hitting Jane in the face.
Sure. She types. Or maybe a little earlier. Can I call you tomorrow?
Of course you can. I look forward to it.
Night, Maura
Good night, Jane. Sleep well.
Jane smiles. She powers the phone down, checks on Isla one more time, and then slides out of bed and heads to the door to begin her before bed routine.