Growth
No one but Faulkner learned about what had happened to Connor and me. Connor told him the day after our departure from Mount Vernon and they immediately started planning their departure for the Caribbean.
"They say the months between December and May are the best time for traveling there. There are lesser storms and we won't be there during the rainy season", Faulkner explained and Connor decided that they would leave in the last week of November. In seven weeks. Although I wished he could get rid of the Apple as soon as possible, this seemed too soon to me. Because it was certain that he would be gone for an unknown amount of time and that I would stay in Davenport. Of course, I would have wanted to accompany Connor. I didn't want to leave him alone with the Apple and the task the spirit of this woman had given him although I wouldn't be of any help. But I had to think of Emily, too. I couldn't expect her to endure such a dangerous trip, so I had to let Connor go.
After four days at sea, we finally arrived in Davenport. To find myself back in these familiar surroundings reminded me unpleasantly of the vision where I had seen an abandoned and shabby manor. But the rooms I called my home luckily had nothing to do with that, so I could finally feel at home again. I greeted our friends joyfully, but not as emotionally as I did Caleb and Faulkner. We were home and although I quickly managed to leave the vision behind but also realized that much had changed. For me, but also for Connor. Not physically, but emotionally.
To call him Connor again was more difficult than I had expected. It was the name I had got to know him with and which had always been more natural to me than his birth name. Now that I had called him Ratonhnhaké:ton for quite some time and had also learned more about its origin, I had gotten used to it and had always used it during our first days at sea and in Davenport. In his presence, but also in the presence of others. But these others had been confused by it since only a few of our friends were familiar with his Mohawk name. They knew that Connor hadn't been born as Connor but since they only knew him under this name and Ratonhnhaké:ton was unpronounceable to them, they had been confused the first time I had talked about Ratonhnhaké:ton. So I returned to calling him Connor and tried to use his real name whenever we were alone. It had always been like that but now the name had a deeper meaning to me and took the place of a pet name, spoken full of love and affection. Much to my husband's liking, as it seemed.
I even believed our relationship to be more intimate than before. We were seeking the other's closeness more often and in the smallest of gestures, were more aware of every moment together and talked more openly about our thoughts. During our three years together, we had gone through a lot and maybe this was the reason why we had fallen for each other so quickly and in this time, our relationship had grown noticeably. But it seemed like the situation the Apple had thrown us into, the isolation from everything we knew, only having each other and all the emotional ups and downs had given us another push forward. Showing us the true worth of the other and our loyalty. I didn't love Connor more than before but I loved him in a different way and I was almost grateful for that. It was something positive coming from what had happened.
This rediscovery of our relationship made me also think about our future more. We were used to awaiting whatever it held and whenever we had made plans, they hadn't been bound to a certain point in time. Especially since the last two years had shown that things used to happen unexpectedly and could change everything. But now that I had seen that some decisions could alter destiny, I had decided to not delay every plan. No matter how big, small, or insignificant they seemed to be. Since things used to happen unexpectedly, you never knew how much time you had left. There were so many things, big and small, we had talked about once but had forgotten about and while Connor was busy planning his journey and search for the temple, I decided to realize at least one of these smaller plans.
During my pregnancy, we had already decided to renovate the unused room in the annex of the upper floor and turn it into a bedroom for Caleb. The room opposite to ours was supposed to be for the baby, as soon as it was old enough. Until now, we had only talked about it and nothing had happened with the room. Now the baby was eighteen months old and I started to feel like it was time to get Emily used to sleeping in her own room. She still slept in her makeshift bed in our room since she had grown too big for her cradle. She slept through most of the nights and didn't need to be changed and fed as much. It seemed like a good time to turn to the renovation of the room and furthermore, it was a welcome task to distract myself from Connor's preparations.
A morning one week after our return from Mount Vernon, Caleb helped me drag the old, sheet-covered furniture out of the annex. The sheets were grey with dust and full of spiderwebs and it wasn't a pleasant business to push them all into the adjoining room. The dust tickled our noses and made it hard to breathe. But basically, they didn't look as bad as the room itself. Here the spiders had built their elaborate nests, some of them like curtains, and the floor was covered in a thick layer of dust which was proof of how forgotten the room had been. My first action was to pull the heavy, dusty curtains away from the dirty windows, push them open and let some fresh air into the room.
"Looks like a lot of work", Caleb groaned as the light revealed the whole impact of the years past and I immediately told him to find Lance and ask him to come. The carpenter would know best what to do to make this room habitable. I used two tables, pushing them over to create an escape-proof play area for Emily in the adjoining room, gave her some toys, and went downstairs to get a water bucket, rags, a broom, and a duster, after I had made sure that she was safe and sound. I had just cleaned the floor so that you didn't swirl up dust with every step when Caleb finally returned with Lance.
"Well, this is what I call a paradise for artisans", Lance said in amusement as he looked around the room. "There's a lot to do here."
"Feel free", I said with a smirk and leaned on the broomstick. "What do you think needs to be done exactly?"
Lance clicked his tongue and his gaze became professional. "Well, I'd say we have to replace some of the floorboards. Most of them look good enough but those like this one-" He placed his right foot on a board that definitely looked its age and cracked loudly under his weight. "-won't do us any good." He stepped to one of the walls and ran his hand over it. "The walls seem to be in good shape. No cracks or holes. I think they just need some paint to make them look as good as new. The windows are looking good, too."
I smiled with satisfaction. "Sounds better than I thought it would. What do you think how long it will take to get everything ready?"
"Well, I'll have to order the materials first. I can get the boards from Terry and Godfrey, but the rest will have to come from outside the homestead. But I could start to work immediately. I don't have much to do anyway and I think you'll be able to furnish the room in about three weeks."
"That would be great", I said and pulled away from the broomstick. "So I'll clean everything and tell you when to start."
"Agreed."
Lance and I went into the adjoining room, he had a look at the furniture and we decided it would be enough if he build a bed and a washing table. The rest was in good condition and by now I had a clear vision of Caleb's future room. I was seized by the kind of euphoria that you only feel when you made progress in something important to you and after I had said goodbye to Lance, I returned to cleaning the room. I scrubbed the floor, swept the walls, and climbed onto a chair to get rid of the remaining spiderwebs in the corners. In between, I checked on Emily, who was so content in her little corner, that she hardly made herself noticeable. I visited Doc White to get some peppermint oil which - according to him - should work perfectly to expel the spiders if you put it into the corners and all the tiny nooks and crannies where these little monsters loved to hang around. I was busy doing that in the evening when I heard Emily in the adjoining room squealing in joy before being carried into the room by her father.
Connor had been busy the whole day and had no idea of his wife's sudden zest for action. He seemed surprised as he regarded the empty and reasonably clean room, before looking at me, who was standing on a chair, and grinned down at him.
"What is going on?", he asked and my grin widened.
"I thought it was time to get this room ready so that Caleb can move in and Emily gets her own room sometime. I already spoke with Lance and he will take care of all the artisan work. Isn't that great?"
My grin turned into a beam. I was proud to have done so much in only one day and hoped he would be happy about it, too since I had begun realizing what we had talked about so long ago. You could tell that he hadn't expected it, but there was no sign of joy.
"How long is that supposed to take?", he asked and moved Emily from one arm onto the other. She had happily begun to pull at the braid on his temple. "Soon I will not be here and I want to be present when we take this step."
"But you can." I cocked my head. "Lance said he should be done in about three weeks. You will have enough weeks left to put her in her own bed and if you find the time you can even help me prepare the rooms."
I gave him another wide smile and put some more peppermint oil onto the rag in my hand to continue polishing the wooden decorations on the wall which used to be a paradise for eight-legged beasts. The whole room smelled of a mixture of old wood and mint and I was already looking forward to leaving it. I started to get a headache.
Behind me, Emily whined to be put down, which her father did. She immediately slumped onto her bottom and started playing with the folds of her skirt, babbling quietly to herself. It was admirable how easily children could keep themselves busy as soon as they got bored. I put some last peppermint oil onto the wall before contently regarding my invisible work. Hopefully, this treatment was going to work and I wouldn't have to demolish new spider homes tomorrow.
"Lillian, I actually wanted to talk to you about that."
I gave Connor a confused glance over my shoulder. After the short break in our conversation, his words seemed incoherent at first.
"About what exactly?"
"About the coming weeks before my departure." Connor grabbed into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a folded piece of paper, looking down at it. His weight shifted from one leg onto the other and I knew he didn't feel comfortable with what he had to tell me. I felt my euphoria vanish and climbed off the chair.
"Did something happen?"
"Not really." Connor raised his eyes and the paper in his hands. "This message came from New York today. The Templars have expanded their efforts to find the second half of the key. It seems like Callaghan has not noticed that we have swapped his half with a fake, yet. But of course, he is still searching and his men are quite aggressive about it. Jamie, Dobby, and Jacob need my help to get control over the situation and lure the Templars onto a false lead."
"Which means you have to go to them." An unnecessary remark that made me gulp anyway. This is not what I had expected. "When are you planning to leave?"
"Tomorrow, in the early morning."
My breath left me in a hiss. Another short-term departure and of course into another dangerous situation. Why wasn't it granted to Connor to spend his time before leaving for the Caribbean in peace? To prepare himself. To gather his strength.
"I am sorry, Lillian. This decision is sudden and inconvenient, but…"
"It's alright." I raised my hand which was still holding the peppermint-reeking rag. I stuffed it into my apron. "They need your help. You have to go."
Of course, I would have liked to say something else but we both knew that it wouldn't have changed his decision. Just as I knew that Connor was aware of my actual disappointment. Even though it wasn't about him personally.
"How long will you be gone?", I asked and Connor's gaze moved to one of the windows as if he would find the answer to my question there.
"Two, maybe three weeks. I cannot tell before knowing exactly what is going on but I do not intend to stay for too long. I do not want to return just before leaving for the Caribbean." He looked at me and pulled his shoulders slightly up as the corners of his mouth twitched into a cautious smile. "Which means we could let Emily move into her own room together."
It was a small comfort. Now that we had lesser time together before his departure, the thought of taking another step in Emily's growth seemed even more joyful.
Connor's eyes roamed through the empty room and he stepped to me to put an arm around my waist.
"You did a great job. I have not wasted a thought on this room, to be honest. But I believed he had more time before Emily can sleep in her own room."
"She's already turning two in six months." I smiled warily and looked down at Emily who was pulling at my skirt to stand up and beamed up at me. One demanding "Mama, arm" and I picked her up.
"Time went by so quickly", Connor murmured and gently ran his fingers through our daughter's hair who in the meantime had chosen my braid as her new toy. "I like to remember the time when she was a baby or when you were pregnant. But at the same time, the future is full of surprises and joyful expectations."
"That's true." I had no better words for it. I enjoyed watching Emily growing up but at the same time, I sometimes wished I could stop or turn back time. Back to the first months of her life or back to my pregnancy when I had only been able to imagine how this tiny being under my heart would look like. But although we had never talked about it, Connor knew as well as I that we didn't need to have this ability to relive the magic of the last two years, and the thought of it made me smile again. We still had so many plans which we hopefully would realize one after another.
The following sixteen days only went by so quickly because I could distract myself from my thoughts and concerns about Connor. It had only taken a week until Lance had gathered the necessary materials to start working on the room. Caleb helped him, just as I offered my help as well. Watching him lay the floors, plaster the walls or treat the wood on the ceiling, walls, and windows with a special glaze whose recipe he wouldn't tell but was supposed to keep the wood shiny and intact, was interesting. The room became more and more homelike and soon it hardly reminded of the dusty, spider-inhabited, and dark storeroom that it used to be. Caleb and I were pleased with the final result of a two-weeks work. Especially Caleb was full of beans as we pushed the furniture back into the room and he told me about his exact image of his future realm. The bed Lance intended to build was not done, yet but Caleb didn't mind sleeping on blankets and pillows. So he moved out of his old room sooner than expected and now I was the one who couldn't wait to prepare it for Emily. There wasn't as much to do as in the annex, but I did my best to make it perfect for a little girl. I changed the bedding, created a corner to play in, put her clothes, rags, and diapers into her closet, and took one or two decorations from our bedroom to place them in hers. I was more than pleased with the result and Emily seemed to feel comfortable, too as we walked hand in hand into the room and she immediately hasted to her toys to greet her beloved doll. I hoped she would still be happy as soon as she had to sleep in bed alone. I tried to make her used to it by letting her take her naps in her room and she never showed any sign of discomfort. But I wouldn't let her spend the night there until Connor returned.
He did in the middle of the night of the sixteenth day after his departure for New York. My subconsciousness seemed to have been awaiting him as always since I woke up from the quiet noise of the closing door. The room was only illuminated by the small fire in the fireplace, which I had lit because of the growing cold every night. His silhouette was dark in front of the light and I didn't need to raise my head from the pillow to watch him walk past the bed to Emily's provisional sleeping place in the opposite corner of the room. He whispered some soft words in his mother tongue while caressing his sleeping daughter's hair. I smiled. Whenever he had been gone for some time, he always went to Emily first, before allowing himself to arrive at last. Even now it seemed like he had only brought his equipment into the cellar because he had no weapons nor coat on him. As he turned away from Emily, he sank onto the chair in front of the fireplace and started to get rid of his leather cuffs and mocassins. The latter hit the floor with a quiet thud as he dropped them and he uttered a groan as he sat up slowly. Every rest of sleepiness left me in an instant and I sat up in a jerk.
"Are you hurt?"
I saw him wince and freeze, as he just wanted to knead his left shoulder with his right hand.
"I had an unlucky fall, but it is fine. Only a bruise", he explained and I could tell by the sound of his voice that he intended to calm me. But I had stood up anyway and went to him.
"Let me see it", I requested and had already started to unbutton his shirt. He sighed resigningly and finally helped me pulling the half-opened shirt over his head. When I stepped behind him, the flickering light of the fire revealed several big bruises, stretching over his left shoulder blade to his spine. The skin felt warmer than the unharmed rest of his back and Connor hissed as my fingertips pressed gently onto the bruises. They were already healing but seemingly still painful.
"How did it happen?", I asked and stepped in front of Connor, only to see him squinching up his face.
"I chased a fleeing templar informant. We ran over the roofs, it had rained before and the tiles were slippery. Just when I grabbed him, the informant stumbled, fell off the roof, and tore me with him. I was lucky to land on top of him and did not hurt myself more."
I didn't even ask about the informant. Just falling off a roof was dangerous enough, but having a heavy assassin landing on top of you…
Connor didn't have any visible pads of fat, but he was muscled and certainly weighed a lot. Plus his weapons and robe…the fall certainly hadn't done this man any good. But at least Connor had survived.
"Does it hurt a lot? I could get something to cool it." I had already stepped towards the door but my wrist was gently seized and I was held back.
"Thank you, but it is not necessary", Connor said. "It got better already. It only hurts when I move but it is endurable."
"If you say so", I murmured and let my eyes roam over his torso. Looking for more injuries but I was relieved to find none.
"I hope you were not too concerned about me."
My gaze flitted up to Connor's face and I couldn't hold back a mocking huff.
"Me? Concerned? Oh, please, what makes you think that? I have enough to do to distract myself."
Connor lowered his eyes but the faint smile that was playing on his lips after my sarcastic words didn't escape my notice. His hand had slid from my wrist down to my hand and his thumb was drawing small circles on its back. He didn't seem entirely aware of this gesture but I was. He was back and fine. Of course, working on the rooms hadn't entirely drowned out my concerns. But I certainly didn't need to tell him that.
I stood between his knees and pulled my hand away to put both hands on his cheeks and run them from his temples through his hair. When he laid his head back and closed his eyes I saw faint, dried splatters of blood, running from the underside of his jaws up to his ears. It seemed like he hadn't had a mirror at hand while washing himself after the fight. I sighed internally. It was strange to hold him in my arms and find the remains of his won, bloody fights on him and I would never get used to it.
"Do you want me to prepare a bath? Or just warm water so that you can wash yourself?", I asked and he opened his eyes to shake his head.
"Not at this late hour. Cold water is enough. Or will you not let me join you in bed otherwise?"
I smiled weakly. "As long as you're thorough with it, I don't mind. It's just…you're still war-torn."
I ran my hand along my jawline and as he mirrored the movement he seemed to understand and closed his eyes with a sigh.
"I am sorry."
"Don't be." I leaned forward and pecked a short kiss on his lips. "I am glad it's not yours. But now get ready and come to bed. You look exhausted."
My fingertips ran over his cheek when I stepped back and gave him enough room to stand up. While he walked to the washing table, turned on the oil lamp, and poured the remaining water from the porcelain jug into the basin, I folded his cuffs and put them away, just like his shoes before slipping under the blanket and watching Connor washing himself thoroughly with a sponge and soap.
"What happened in New York anyway?" I asked after the splashing of water had been the only noise for some time. "Did the Templars cause a lot of trouble?"
Connor paused squeezing the sponge and his eyes met mine through the mirror. "Well, they do not know that Ray is dead", he began slowly. "They are still looking for him and someone told them he would be in New York. They searched the whole city for him and were quite forceful."
I didn't even ask what he meant. I knew how the Templars worked when they wanted to achieve a certain goal. There hardly ever were no collaterals.
"And what did you do to stop them? I doubt you let them know the truth."
"Of course not." Ratonhnhaké:ton lifted the wet sponge to his neck and pushed his hair aside, to wash the skin there. "I moved through the city pretending I was also looking for Ray. In the meantime, Dobby used her contacts to spread the news that he had been spotted in Quebec."
"Quebec? Why…?" I stopped as I realized the reason for this deception. As long as the Templars were looking for Ray, they were also looking for his part of the key and didn't know about the Apple, yet. If they believed the rumors to be true, they would keep looking for Ray in Quebec while Connor was bringing the Apple to safety from their greedy hands on the opposite side of the continent. This would gain him time for searching the right temple.
"Very clever", I said smirking, and imagining Callaghan sending his men to Quebec to find Ray before the Assassins. "But what if they learn the truth?"
"Then I hope that I have hidden the Apple and can think about stopping them."
Connor put the sponge aside and grabbed a towel to dry himself up. His gaze moved to the side and the wall beside the door. He paused and frowned.
"Why are two tapestries missing?", he asked and meant the blue-white pieces he got from people of his village, resembling animals he had successfully slain in the past. Bear, wolf, deer, bobcat, wapiti, and lynx. The deer and the bear were missing and I sat up to shrug my shoulder apologizingly.
"I put them into Emily's room because I thought it would be nice for her to have something from your people, too. But if it bothers you, I will put them back tomorrow."
And I meant "their" people. It was important to Connor that Emily learned about this part of their shared heritage and I supported him as far as I could. So I had decorated her room with parts of this heritage while Connor had several momentos of his village in our room. I was glad that he shook his head after my hesitant offer.
"No. It is a good idea." He turned off the lamp, slipped out of his breeches, put it to the rest of his clothes, and came to bed. "So the rooms are ready?", he asked while spreading the blanket over us and making himself comfortable.
"For some days now." I smiled proudly as I thought of the result of our work and was looking forward to showing him tomorrow. "If you like, you can bring Emily to bed in her own room tomorrow."
The next evening, I tried to do things as always. After we'd had dinner and I had cleaned Emily from the remains of her partly unsuccessful attempts to eat with a spoon, I took her upstairs to get her ready for the night. But this time, I didn't go into our bedroom but into hers. I enlightened one of the sconces and took her nightgown and napkins out of the cupboard. I changed her napkins, put her into her nightgown, and finally sat down at the small table I had chosen as a washstand. I washed her and myself, giving her her own cloth so that she could imitate my movements. After her efforts weren't as successful as she expected them to be, she tried to grab the bowl which I stopped chuckling before she could spill the whole water. I brushed her hair, bound it into two tiny braids, and lifted her onto my arms to sit down on the armchair in the corner of the room. I opened my shirt and fed her. For some time now, I had only breastfed her in the evening. She loved eating whatever we had on our plates but in the evenings she wasn't that hungry and preferred being breastfed and I saw no reason to deny her. I would breastfeed her during the day if she wanted because we both enjoyed this time of day when we were close and only concentrated on each other. It had become our favorite part of our evening ritual and it seemed like Emily had understood that it was time to go to sleep afterwards. No matter how energetic she was before, whenever I breastfed her, she became noticeably calmer and so sleepy, that sometimes she fell asleep in my arms. Unfortunately, today was different. Instead of looking at me or closing her eyes, Emily kept looking around and was so absent that her lips kept slipping off of my breast until she even choked on the milk. Sighing I lifted her to my shoulder and gently patted her back until she stopped coughing.
"What's the matter with you today?", I asked quietly as I used the rag, that I always put over my shoulder to protect my clothes, to wipe her mouth and chin. Her answer was a grimace and a hearty sneeze that hauled out even more milk. I chuckled and wiped it away, too. "You are supposed to drink, not sniff it, my angel."
Emily squealed and tried to pull the rag out of my hand until the door opened and her father came in. Curiously she turned her head and stretched her tiny arms out to her "baba".
"Is she not tired, yet?", he asked smirking, and carefully took the child out of my arms so that I could button up my shirt.
"Unfortunately not. She is more boisterous than ever." I cocked my head watching Emily putin an arm around her father's neck, babbling and trying to hit his nose. He stopped her by grabbing her hand and snapping at it with his lips. I would have loved to watch them further if I didn't want to bring Emily to bed.
"Do you think she feels what we are planning?"
Connor's attention shortly turned back to me. "You say it as if we are intending to abandon her somewhere."
"It feels like it", I murmured. I had awaited this evening with mixed feelings but now I suddenly wasn't so sure anymore, that I could and wanted to let Emily sleep in her own room. I hadn't spoken to the mothers in the homestead about it because I had wanted to follow my guts. But my confidence had left me by now. I had hoped it would help to follow our usual rituals but it was Emily who was making it difficult right now.
"She will calm down eventually", Connor said and looked at Emily who had stopped her attacks on his face and played with the pearls on his braid instead. "She certainly feels how uneasy you are."
He gently held Emily tight and kissed her forehead before slowly walking to the tapestries I had taken from our wall to hang them over Emily's bed.
"Nahó:ten' kí:ken?", I heard him ask quietly and he tapped on the little, woven bear. Emily stopped playing with his braid and curiously followed his finger with her eyes. She leaned forward and put her hand on it.
"Nahó:ten' kí:ken?", Connor asked again. "Ohkwá:ri?" He smirked as Emily huffed and leaned her head against his shoulder as if she wanted to blame him for the difficulty of his question and I chuckled. Connor loved playing these little games with her and although she had only called me "Issa", or "Istá", once, he didn't give up and kept speaking to her in his mother tongue whenever he could and I was optimistic that she would soon follow his lead. By now she only knew some English vocabulary which she was just beginning to put together.
Connor lowered his head until his cheek rested against Emily's head and he continued walking through the room with calm, swaying steps. His gentle voice was forming words I didn't understand but soon had their intended effect. With my chin resting in my hand and my arm propped up on the armrest, I watched Emily nuzzling her head against her father's shoulder and grew sleepier with every passing minute. From time to time, I caught a glimpse of her relaxed face and saw her eyes getting smaller until they finally fell shut. I rose from my seat as Connor breathed a kiss on Emily's head, carefully put her to bed, and spread the blanket over her. I kissed her forehead and whispered a gentle "Sleep well, my angel" before I extinguished the light and left the room with Connor.
"You were right, maybe I was too uneasy myself", I said while igniting the sconce beside our bedroom door. It would let some light fall through Emily's ajar door, just in case she would be afraid alone in the dark. Furthermore, she would be able to find her way to us in the opposite room. Lance had built a wooden fence which we had put in front of the staircase on the other side of the hallway, making sure that Emily couldn't fall down the stairs if she decided to go on a nightly stroll. We were prepared for every possible scenario and I should be able to go to bed without a bad conscience. Should be.
I kept listening for noises in the hallway or Emily's room while brushing my hair, changing into my nightgown, and going to bed. Even when Connor lay down next to me and I cuddled up to him, my attention was on Emily.
"She is fine", he whispered to me. He certainly didn't need the ability to read my mind to guess what was troubling me. Sighing I laid my hand flat on his chest and ran my fingers along his collarbone.
"I know", I murmured. "I just feel like a bad mother who has abandoned her child. The thought of not having her close is strange."
Connor huffed as he smirked. "Her room is opposite to ours. Only a few steps away."
"I know", I repeated. "It's still a strange feeling."
Connor didn't reply anything but kissed my hair and pulled me closer. I sighed quietly and tried not to think about Emily but to fall asleep. It worked eventually but I woke up only one hour later.
The reason was miserable crying and screaming coming through the open door. Connor and I were awake in an instant and half asleep, I jumped out of bed and to the provisional bed Emily used to sleep in. Panic seized me as I found it empty until I remembered the reason.
"Mamaaaaa!"
Still too hasty I stumbled to the door and hardly heard Connor's calming "Easy". Emily's pitiable crying sounded all the motherly alarming bells in my head and my heart broke when I entered her room and saw her.
Emily stood in front of her bed, holding her doll in one hand while the other kept running over her tear-stained face. The sound of her crying became piercing and she kept calling out for me until she noticed me in the doorway. She calmed down and came running towards me on her tiny legs as if she hadn't seen me in ages. Her hands clawed into my skirt and she buried her face in the fabric sobbing. I immediately had a bad conscience. When I had thought she should sleep in her own room, I hadn't expected such a strong reaction.
"Oh, my little angel", I whispered and lifted her up where she buried her tear-stained face in my shoulder and kept sobbing. "Everything's fine. I am here now."
I tickled the back of her neck with my fingertips as I slowly left the room and stepped into the hallway. Connor stood in the doorway to our room and watched his daughter with his head cocked.
"Maybe she's not ready, yet", I said as I stopped and started to slowly bob up and down on my toes. A movement to calm Emily that had become so much of a second nature to me that I sometimes did it without a child and noticing.
"Does she need to get changed?", Connor asked, and frowning I felt for Emily's napkin, only to shake my head.
"Is she hungry?"
"No, I think she just woke up and was looking for us."
"Maybe she should learn to understand that we are nearby, even when we are not in the same room. Otherwise, she will never be able to sleep in her own room."
I wanted to disagree and tell him that Emily's crying was a clear sign of her not being able to sleep alone until I looked at my daughter. She had calmed down, her head still resting against my shoulder and babbling quietly while tugging at the lace on my nightgown's neckline. As if nothing happened. I sighed deeply.
When it came to Emily's upbringing, Connor used to keep out of it and was mostly geared by me. He once had said, that mothers knew best what was right for their children in every way. He only intervened whenever he didn't support a decision of mine and every time, I listened to his opinion. I was always grateful for his pragmatic nature that was keeping me grounded. I was very emotional and especially when it came to Emily, my emotions always outsmarted my mind and I remembered how Emily's first tantrum had almost brought me to the edge of desperation. I had believed that the only reason for this child's crying and screaming was that I had failed her as a mother. Back then, Connor had put an arm around me, had led me away from Emily, and had made me aware that she would calm down on her own, and of course, she had. If I had given in to the urge to pick her up and let her win, I could already wipe the floors with her because she kept throwing herself on it in her tantrums.
Even now, after my initial scare about Emily's crying was slowly fading, I realized that this was the same situation as back then. When I got Emily back into our room every time she cried, she would never learn to sleep alone.
"My little angel, you don't have to be afraid", I explained quietly to her and she slightly raised her head to look at me. "Your papa and I are right here." I stepped to Connor into the doorframe and pointed back to her room. "We are close by. You are not alone."
I went back to her room and gently wiped away the tears on her cheeks before carefully putting her into her bed. Emily immediately started whining and stretching her arms out for me, but I grabbed her hands and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Everything is fine. I am close by and your doll is watching over you, too." I grabbed the small doll which Maria had made for Emily and ran her hand over Emily's nose, eliciting a squeal from my daughter and making her grab for the doll. I smiled and gave it to her.
"See? You are both watching over each other." I leaned down and kissed Emily's forehead. "And now sleep, my angel. I will be back first in the morning, alright?"
I tugged her in and was glad she didn't protest as I stood up and walked to the door. In the doorframe I turned around and smiled as I saw that Emily had rolled onto her side, looking at me, her doll tightly pressed against her chest. But she wasn't crying, nor was she calling for me or trying to follow me.
"Good night", I whispered, stepped through the door, and closed it slightly ajar. The hand still on the handle, I took a deep breath. This was still hard for me but the fact that Emily still wasn't crying out for me comforted me. Slowly I walked back into our room and kept waiting for Emily's crying or the tapping of tiny feet following me. But everything remained silent and this was how Emily spent her first night in her own room. She was even sound asleep when I went to her in the morning and laid down next to her for a few more minutes until we started our day together as always.
"Nahó:ten' kí:ken?" - What is that?
Ohkwá:ri - bear
