Don't Go by Lisa Scottoline Page A

beside themselves.”
    “I bet.” Mike winced at the names of Chloe’s teacher friends. He liked them all, and there was no tighter-knit group than teachers, except soldiers.
    “Don sends his love, too. He had to work, but he’ll be at the wake. By the way, is it okay with you that we took Jake?” Sara brightened a little. “The boys always wanted a cat, and they fell in love with him. But don’t worry, they know we have to give him back when you get home.”
    “Thanks so much for taking him,” Mike said, wondering how he would ever take Jake away from her boys, but he’d deal with that later.
    “Sara, would you like coffee?” Danielle asked, keeping her distance with the baby, who’d stopped crying, sucking wet-eyed on her pacifier.
    “No, thanks.” Sara took off her coat, revealing dark slacks and a silly red sweater with a huge candy cane, obviously one of the Ironic Holiday Sweaters that she and Chloe used to wear every Christmas, for a joke at school. Mike suppressed a stab of pain, and Sara grimaced, reading his expression. “Oh no, Mike, the sweater, I forgot.”
    “It’s okay.” Mike didn’t want her to feel bad and changed the subject. “So if you’re wondering why my daughter is hysterical, it’s my fault. She hates me.”
    “No, she doesn’t.” Sara smiled, shakily. “She’s just getting used to you again.”
    “That’s a good way to think about it.” Mike forced himself to smile back. “We’re like those movies where the wife gets amnesia and forgets she loves the husband.”
    “She’ll be fine, in time.” Sara patted him on the back, and Mike always liked her easy manner, especially with kids. She had three sons and twenty-four students in her class, so nothing fazed her. “Here, maybe I can help. Danielle, can I have her?” Sara took Emily from Danielle, grinned at the baby, and held her up so that her tiny legs drooped together like an old-school clothespin. “How’s baby Emily? How’s the littlest angel?”
    Mike marveled as Emily smiled down at Sara, then Sara cradled her and moved slowly toward him.
    “Emily, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” Sara kissed her on the head. “So many people love you, and we’re gonna take great care of you, aren’t we?” Emily sucked harder, her blue eyes trained on Sara, and Mike noticed the baby’s eyes were a pale blue, like bluets growing wild in a meadow. Sara moved closer to him with Emily, saying to her, “You know much I love you, and so does your Daddy, and he’s here with us, right now. This big, hunky handsome guy belongs to you, did you know that?” Sara kissed Emily again. “Isn’t that great? That you have a Daddy who loves you?”
    Mike held his breath and stayed perfectly still, then Sara stopped. Emily was closer to him than she’d ever been in daylight, and her gaze met his directly. He felt the same wondrous connection as last night.
    But in the next second, Emily burst into tears, spitting out her pacifier.
    Later, Danielle went upstairs with the baby, while Mike stood at the kitchen counter with Sara, having coffee. They’d tried for a half an hour to calm Emily down, to no avail, and Sara patted him on the back.
    “Don’t worry, Mike. She was just tired. She woke up early from her nap.”
    “Right, I know.” Mike wanted to talk about the vodka and understand why Chloe had been drinking, but he’d promised Bob to keep it a secret. “Sara, let me ask you, how was Chloe while I was away? Was she okay or what, emotionally?”
    “She missed you, but she was happy with the baby.”
    “Really?” Mike didn’t think it added up. “Could she have been depressed, like postpartum or anything?”
    “No, not that.” Sara hesitated. “To be honest with you, she was having a tough time. I think being on her own, with such a new baby, was hard. It’s just the war, and the bad luck of the timing, with you being deployed when the baby was a newborn—” She stopped, abruptly, and Mike sensed she