SOPHIE AND UNCLE JAMIE.
My throat tightened.
“I made it for her room,” he said.
I stared at the drawing.
Jamie continued.
“Mom used to say babies need people who make them feel safe.”
I nodded.
He looked at Sophie.
“I wanted her to feel safe with me.”
Then he said something that broke through every excuse I had made for Claire.
“Why doesn’t Claire want Sophie to love me?”
I couldn’t answer.
Because suddenly I remembered the family photo.
The birthday party.
The Christmas dinner when Claire had asked Jamie to eat in the kitchen because he was chewing too loudly.
The way she’d laughed when he bought Sophie a stuffed rabbit with his own money.
The way she’d said, “He probably doesn’t even understand what this baby means.”
And the way I had kept saying:
She’s stressed.
She’s tired.
She’s protective.
