"She's so small."
"Sure is, boy."
"Can I hold her?"
"No."
"Please, Jane?"
"No."
"How come?"
"Cause I said so."
"I'll be really, really careful. I promise! Please?"
Jane sighed, recognizing the desperation in Collin's hopeful eyes. "Okay," she grunted, moving aside to make room for him on the couch. "Come sit right here next to me, and be real careful, all right? You gotta be real gentle with her. I know she's about the same size as Jo Friday, but Jo can tussle and Lily can't."
"I know, I know," Collin said, holding out his hands.
"All right. Careful, now."
With much more slowness and hesitancy than was probably warranted, Jane transferred the baby over to Collin's arms. He tenderly wrapped them around Lily, further securing her beyond the blanket Maura had swaddled her in. Jane had worried that being put in new hands might frighten Lily into a crying jag, but she just blinked up at Collin, trying to focus on him. Collin grinned at her, thrilled to be the recipient of her attention. He looked excitedly over at Jane, who moved back a little on the sofa so she could more easily see both of the kids at once.
"Is this all right?" Collin asked.
"Yeah, son, you're doin' just fine."
Collin looked back at Lily, thinking about the term of endearment Jane had just used. It was one she'd used ever since meeting him for the first time, but it felt a little different now. "Am I your son, Jane?"
Her heart skipped a beat, and she tried to sound calm, praying he wasn't about to break her heart. "If you'd be all right with that, Collin, I'd ...I'd love the chance to call you that."
He didn't hesitate: "Sure!"
She swallowed hard and smiled, reaching over and ruffling Collin's hair. "That's my boy. Look at you with that girl. You're a natural!"
"Is this Maura's baby?" he asked. For some reason, the r in her name didn't seem to give him as much trouble as others did ("Wizzoli" was still difficult). Still he couldn't say her name entirely clearly, and his expression always seemed to shift a bit when he said it, as though it were a struggle.
"What makes you ask that, son?"
"She left and came in holding him. I thought maybe when you both left this morning, and you came back with Lily Mae, you left so Maura could have her baby."
Jane chewed her lip, trying to decide how to answer. Maura always told her that honesty was the best policy, and Jane was often inclined to agree—but in this case, it seemed like at least an edited version would be more appropriate.
"That baby is my brother's."
"Frankie?"
Jane had to smile at the way Collin pronounced it, more like "Fwankie." They had met a couple of times, and Collin appreciated that Frankie was more tender and a little more clownish than any other man he'd ever met. Tommy had not been around since Collin and Kay had arrived.
"No, Coll. It's another brother of mine, Tommy."
"So are we just watching the baby for a while?"
"Well now, that's a little harder to say," Jane whispered. "The baby's mother ain't in a condition to look after her anymore, and I'm sorry to say that Tommy ain't around."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know, Collin. Part of me kinda thinks he might not ever be comin' back. And if that's the case, me and Maura here are gonna raise Lily Mae ourselves."
He frowned and cocked his head, staring down at the baby and then back at Jane. "Doesn't she need a father?"
Boy, he sure wasn't shy anymore! Jane rubbed the back of her neck and put her arm around Collin's shoulder. "I'll be honest with ya, Collin, I wish her father was around. I think havin' a baby would make him grow up proper."
"How old is he?"
"Older than he acts. Look, point is, her father ain't around."
"Mine wasn't ever, neither," Collin said, his voice low. He was looking at Jane, but she kept her gaze fixed on the baby, partly out of concern that Collin might let her slip, but also wary of what she might see in his face if she glanced at it. "My mother always said she thought she'd never do right raising me without a father."
"You listen to me, son. Your father didn't know nothin'. He had nothing of any value to teach you. From what Kay's told me, your mother was very protective of you, but distant, too." You probably reminded her of Doyle too much. You and Maura both have his eyes. "Now it's true, you and Lily have quite a bit in common. Both your mothers are gone. Your father was absent during most of your life, and I reckon Tommy ain't gonna stick around for much of Lily's, on account of bein' ashamed of what he done. But you know what else makes you two alike? Something a lot better than those things?"
Collin was breathless in anticipation. "What?"
She finally met his gaze, which was difficult because tears were on the brink of blinding her. She blinked a few away and took a shuddering breath.
Before she could speak, a door shut quietly behind them. Jane looked over and saw Maura standing, red-eyed, in front of the doorway to their bedroom. It was clear from her expression that she had heard some of the conversation already, and as Jane now appeared lost for words, Maura stepped into the room. Collin twisted around to watch as she walked over to the sofa, settling onto the cushion on Collin's other side.
Putting a hand on his knee, she said in a steady voice, "This is what else you have in common: you are in a house with two... two dogs, one tortoise, and two grown-up people who all love you very, very much. Both of these people want to see that you and Lily grow up happy, healthy, and wise. They—that is, we—want you and Lily both to be safe and to be sound. We want what's best for you, and we know we are both capable of providing just that. Covering your basic, temporal needs, as well as any emotional ones you may have. That is what true parents do and are, mothers and fathers alike."
"You're my sister, though, aren't you?" Collin asked.
"Yes, Collin. But given the circumstances, I really might fit the bill as more of a parental figure, don't you think?"
Collin couldn't say he knew the exact circumstances Maura was referring to, but he got the gist of the suggestion. It still felt odd to call Maura his sister when he already had one of those, and especially when Maura seemed old enough to be—well, his mother. So he nodded in lieu of saying anything else, and returned to looking down at the baby.
Maura needed more of a concrete response. "Collin?"
"Yeah?"
"'Yes,'" Jane prompted him, grinning at Maura in hopes of lightening her solemn mood a little bit.
It worked, and Collin corrected himself. "Yes?"
"Are you happy here with us?"
Collin nodded, all youthful enthusiasm and sincerity, the likes of which he had not expressed since moving out West. "Yeah! Yes!" Not sure which one to look at, he went back and forth from Jane to Maura. A slight panic edging into his voice, he asked, "I thought this was my home now—can't I stay? Please?"
Jane leaned over and kissed the top of his head. "God bless you, boy, of course you're stayin'!" She pulled back to allow Maura to kiss him as well, then said, "Heck, we've gotta keep you around—you've got the magic touch! Look, Lily's asleep already!"
"Gosh, she is!" Collin exclaimed. "Can she sleep down with me? In my boat-bed?"
"Hey, what is the plan, here?" Jane asked Maura. "I don't suppose you've got a crib stashed some place?"
"Wait, I know!" Collin said, sounding excited. "We can all share your bed! Lily will be on one end, and I'll have my arm around her to protect her. Maura, you can protect me, and Jane will protect you, and Magnum can protect Jane!"
"Oh, Magnum's gonna get on the bed with us, huh? That's quite a line-up there," Jane chuckled. "And who'll keep him safe?"
"Bass," Maura joked, getting a loud laugh out of Collin. She smiled and stroked his hair.
When he'd first come to live with them, he had ducked on instinct whenever Jane or Maura tried to affectionately touch his head in some way. It had taken a considerable amount of time for him to overcome his fear of getting slapped, but with patience and longsuffering, Maura and Jane eventually reached through to him that he had nothing to fear in that regard.
"Jane, I thought Lily might sleep between us until we can get our hands on some sort of crib," Maura continued.
"I'll get on it tomorrow," Jane said.
"Are you gonna make one? Can I help?" Collin asked.
"Sure, little man."
"I want to help, too, and not just with painting it," Maura said. Jane raised her eyebrows in gentle surprise. "Let's make a family project out of it."
"As you wish, Dr. Isles. How's your schedule look tomorrow?"
"Well, I have most of my appointments in the morning, but I ought to be through by noon at the latest. I'll be a free lady until I go to Adelaide's in the evening."
"Adelaide?" Collin chirped. "Can I come with you on that one, Maura?"
"Of course, Collin. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you."
Jane leaned over, taking Lily out of Collin's arms. "In order for that to happen, you need to be getting to bed there, son. Time to say good night to Lily Mae."
"Good night, Lily. Lily Mae."
"Go on and give her a kiss, Coll. You won't wake her up."
"Aw, do I have to?" he groaned.
"No, you don't have to," Jane said lightly. "But I think it'd be a mighty sweet gesture. There ain't no reason not to kiss people you're close to, ain't that right, Maura?"
Fighting a blush, Maura replied, "It certainly is, Jane."
Leaning over Collin, Jane brushed her lips against Maura's cheek, and Maura surprised her by returning the favor with a quick peck on the mouth.
Collin was leaning way back against the sofa, narrowing his eyes and looking back and forth between the two of them with a look of great distrust. Finally, with a light scowl, he shifted and touched his lips to Lily's forehead, pulling back with lightning speed. Jane wanted to laugh, but was cut off by a disapproving look from Maura.
"Collin, I don't want you to be so averse to displaying demonstrations of affection," she said seriously. "Why are you embarrassed to?"
He shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know. Ain't I supposed to be?"
"No, sweetheart, you shouldn't. A kiss shows how much you care about someone. Trying to wipe it off afterwards will negate that sentiment, and send the opposite message. It's nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about, understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Collin mumbled.
He got up off the sofa and slouched in the direction of the cellar, Magnum close on his heels. Jane took Lily into the bedroom and got ready for bed, and after a few minutes, Maura went downstairs to ensure that Collin was down for the night. It was still a heartwarming picture to see him lying in his makeshift bed, Magnum sprawled out next to it, ready (despite his lazy appearance) to jump up at any moment if needs be. Maura stepped forward for Jane's usual job, which was to tuck Collin's blanket around him.
"Maura?" he yawned.
"Yes, Collin?"
"When Lily grows up, is she gonna be like you, or like Jane?"
"Well, I suppose since Jane's brother is Lily's father, she'll be more of a Rizzoli than an Isles."
"I mean, is she going to act like you or Jane? You're both women, but you're both real different. How come Jane doesn't dress like other women? How come she's always in trousers?"
"Because that's what she's comfortable in," Maura replied. "She prefers to dress that way, and you know Jane. Nobody's brave enough to tell her to live any different!"
Collin laughed, proud to know someone like Jane who could so fearlessly hold her own. "Is Lily going to wear trousers, too?"
"We'll see what she wants to do," Maura chuckled.
"If I was a girl, I'd want to wear trousers all the time," Collin said. He started to giggle. "Once when we were in Grand Junction, there was a real strong wind and Kay's dress blew up almost right over her head!"
"Oh, no!"
"Yeah! And everybody could see her drawers! That'd never happen if she'd been wearing trousers!"
"No, I suppose it wouldn't." She leaned down to kiss his forehead, and for once, he didn't squirm. "Time for bed now, Collin."
"Wait, Jane always tells me a story first."
Maura glanced over at the desk in the room, where she saw Treasure Island resting. "Does she read to you?"
"No, she tells me stories about you."
"About me?" Maura asked, sounding surprised. "What on earth could be entertaining about me?"
Collin grinned. "Well, last night, she told me about the first time you went riding on horseback together. She said you were a real sight in your split skirt, and you held onto her so tight she said she couldn't hardly breathe!"
"Yes, I'm afraid I might have bruised her..."
"It's okay, I asked her about that and she said she liked it."
Maura couldn't fight a smile. "Oh, I'm sure she did."
"So..."
"So?"
"So will you tell me a story? About Jane?"
"All right. Anything in particular you want to know?"
The smile had faded from Collin's face, and he suddenly became very interested in his hands. "Sorta. Um... Kay told me a few days ago about how you came out here 'cause you were supposed to get married. But you're not married. She said your f... fee..."
"Fiancé."
"Your fiancé left, 'cause you asked him to and you wanted to stay with Jane instead."
"All true. Which story would you like to know, Collin?"
"Um... well, how come—or, how'd you know you wanted to live with Jane forever instead of getting married?"
Maura sighed wistfully, settling herself onto the floor by Collin's bed. "There are many things that led me to believe I would be much, much better off by choosing Jane to be my lifelong companion, Collin. Do you want to hear something about our father? Something very grown-up, and a little sad?"
"What?"
"I don't think he was in love with either of our mothers. I think he enjoyed spending time with them for a spell, and maybe he genuinely felt something for them at some point in his life. But he left my mother with child, rushing her into marriage with a man—a wonderful man—who she did not truly love herself. When I was just a year or two younger than you are, she fled the country to go live the life she'd always wanted, and to get away from the pressure of raising me. Doyle wanted nothing to do with me, either, but I didn't find out about him until... well, this year. The point is, although I was able to visit my mother in France every now and then, I constantly doubted whether she loved me. I never knew for certain what she made of me, if she wanted me in her life at all. Now Collin, I'm sure your mother loves—loved —you very much. Maybe she just didn't know how to show it."
"She stayed," Collin said. "Doyle never stayed."
"He never stayed," Maura whispered. "My point in all this is to say that I never have to question whether Jane loves me. I know it, as much as I know any scientific fact. Sometimes we may argue, and sometimes we may be angry with each other, but even so, I know everything she does is for me or for us. We are very, very blessed to have her in our lives."
"Is she from Boston, too?"
"Oh, no. No, she was born and raised right here."
"You met her when you came to live here?"
"Yes," Maura said with a smile. "She rather forcefully made her way into my carriage as it drove from the train station to town. At first I thought 'what a brash soul!', but I must admit, I found her extremely dashing from the start. She cuts a fine figure, don't you think?"
Collin made a face. "I don't know! Does she?"
"You'd be hard-pressed to find a more handsome woman in this territory, Collin."
"Jane says you're smart, so I guess you'd know."
There was a hint of smugness in her tone when she replied, "Yes, dear. I would."
Once she'd told him goodnight and started back up towards the main floor, Maura realized what exactly she had just told her little brother. For a moment she worried that maybe she had said too much, but the anxiety was fleeting, and gone by her next step. Speaking or acting frankly was not an issue; it was not uncommon for grown women to be outwardly affectionate with each other. Besides, in due time, Collin was sure to forget that conversation had even taken place. Still, Maura wondered if she ought to tell Jane about it. That was vying for competition with her desire to do more with Jane than sleep, but then she remembered they were sharing their room—their bed—with a baby. Maybe not tonight.
Still, a conversation might be in order, but that was also dashed when Maura slipped into the bedroom. Jane was lying down in her white undershirt and striped pajama pants, Lily resting on her stomach. Both of them appeared sound asleep, and Maura couldn't bring herself to wake Jane as she got into bed.
Unfortunately, the quiet didn't last for long.
Jane and Maura both woke abruptly when Lily began to wail, and Jane looked shocked that Maura was even in bed.
"When'd you get in here?"
"After I put Collin to sleep."
"How come I didn't wake up? Sake's alive, Maura, I'm losin' it!"
"Just give me the baby, and I'll see what she wants."
"No, honey, I've got it," Jane murmured, sitting up. "This has been a long day for you. Let me take care of her, okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"Sure as you're born, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."
It'd been hard to make herself be heard over the noise of Lily's loud cries, but it was doable and she hoped that Collin hadn't woken up. These hopes fell when she walked out into the main room of the house, shutting the bedroom door after her, and heard Magnum barking and rushing up the stairs from the cellar.
"Shhh, boy, it's just me!" Jane whispered, gesturing with one arm to try and get him to calm down. "We're fine, the baby's fine! Sh, boy!"
He went silent, but Jane heard him padding along the floor after her as she walked towards Maura's study. She took a whiff of the diaper cloth tied around Lily, but nothing smelled as though it needed to be changed. Jane tried one of the formula bottles next, figuring she must be hungry, but after just a few sucks on the cork, Lily shook her head to get away from it and continued to scream bloody murder. The hair on the back of her neck rose; Jane looked over her shoulder, worried that Maura wasn't going to be able to sleep with all this noise.
So, Jane directed Magnum back down to the cellar and headed out for the back porch. Nobody was around for a good mile or so, which meant Lily's cries wouldn't be disturbing anyone else. Jane tromped down to the yard and paced back and forth interspersing soothing "shhh" sounds with quiet words of comfort—admittedly pointless, she figured, since Lily had no idea what she was saying. At one point Jane tried her hand at singing Maura's favorite lullaby, a tactic she had successfully used in the past to calm babies down from their crying jags.
Nothing seemed to be working tonight, though.
It wasn't so much that the sound of it was grating (though it certainly was); Jane's heart just ached that she couldn't figure out what was upsetting the baby.
"C'mon, don't cry," she pleaded, her words falling on deaf ears. "Please, Lily Mae, don't be upset." Lily's crying only got louder, and Jane hugged her closer, tears coming out of her own eyes as she thought of the horrible cries Lydia had made as she gave birth. "Your mama said she had nobody to speak for her, nobody who cared, until Maura came long. We're gonna speak for you, Lily, we love you. We love ya and you're never gonna be alone, and we're gonna give you a voice when you're old enough." She laughed weakly. "Not that you ain't already got a good set of lungs, huh?"
After pacing back and forth down the yard for what felt like a good half an hour, Jane looked back to the house and saw Jo Friday sitting on the porch. She whistled and it was drowned in the baby's cries; she gestured, but Jo didn't see it—or, Jane figured, she was smart and wanted to keep her distance. Jane took a few steps to the house, and Jo came skipping down the stairs and over to Jane.
"Know what's the matter with her, Jo?" Jane asked, getting down onto the grass and sitting cross-legged. "I can't make her stop."
Jo was sniffing the baby, which only seemed to upset Lily more. There was a brief hiccup where Jane thought maybe, at long last, the crying was over, but then Lily looked directly at Jo and screamed her loudest yet. Jo pulled back as if offended, but yipped when Jane tried to stand up.
"C'mon, girl, we're just gonna have to let her cry it out," Jane said.
Jo Friday walked one circle around Jane, then stopped on her right side, where she had a good view of the baby. After a while, Jane realized that Jo was howling. It wasn't loud, and it wasn't angry or desperate sounding; her mouth was barely open. Jo stood up and put her front paws on Jane's knee, trying to get closer to the baby, trying to see her eyes.
As Lily continued to cry and Jo kept up her almost-melodic howling, it occurred to Jane how funny it was that neither of them were able to communicate verbally in ways she could understand. Clearly Lily was upset, but Jane didn't know why. Clearly Jo was attempting to help, but Jane wasn't sure how. The miracle of it was that Jo did not give up, and as Lily realized she wasn't going to go away and also wasn't going to hurt her, she became fascinated by this new thing that had sprung up into her life.
And miraculously, her crying lessened, then ceased altogether.
"Jo," Jane whispered in astonishment, as Jo kept up her soft whimpering sounds. "Jo Friday, you've done it! You did it, girl! Good dog!"
She looked over and saw Jo's tail wagging.
The next morning, Maura came out of the bedroom to see Jane in the sitting room with Lily, barely keeping her eyes open as the baby silently took in the room.
"Darling, were you up all night?" Maura asked, having slept like a log once Jane left.
"Uh, not quite," Jane yawned. "Jo finally got her to quiet down the first time, but I stayed out in case she got goin' again, and sure enough, she did. That time she was hungry. I ain't sure what was wrong at first."
"I'm so sorry," Maura sighed, going to sit on the other side of the sofa. "Next time you really should wake me. It's only fair that we do this in turns."
"Nah, I was already up," Jane scoffed. "Besides, the sound ain't so bothersome to me as it probably is for some people."
"Jane, are you honestly telling me that sound doesn't bother you?" Maura chuckled.
"Well no, I mean it bothers me 'cause I know it means she's upset," Jane said. "But you mean, don't it bother me 'cause it's loud?" When Maura nodded, Jane shook her head and sat Lily up a little more fully on her lap. "No chance, doc. I'm used to loud sounds from things like trains crashin', and dynamite blowing up, and guns going off real close to my head. Sure her crying ain't pretty like a symphony, but I'm grateful for it all the same. It ain't scary to me. It reminds me of the family I got." She leaned over for a quick kiss. "I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you, Jane. I always will."
"Yeah," Jane teased her. "You better! 'Cause this ain't no easy thing, you know. Raisin' a family."
"I know," Maura sighed, putting her arm around Jane's shoulder and leaning on it. "But I think we're up to the challenge."
