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There was a cool breeze about that day. Spring had just begun and the world was still in that subliminal space between winter shedding its coat and spring blossoming with life. The rain from the past week had washed away the stubborn remnants of ice and reacquainted the land with warmth.
On that fine day, the clouds had offered a reprieve, allowing the sun to shine down ever so gently and kiss those who allowed themselves to enjoy a moment outdoors.
Helen Sharpe was one of them.
It was one of her very rare days off and instead of taking up her usual routine of jogging, yoga, low-carb, high-protein breakfast followed by a day of TV, reading and cleaning, she decided to explore the nearby park.
It was a sizeable area, dotted ever so often with a few benches and offering great patches of greenery beneath the shade of century old trees, perfect for pick-nicks when they weren’t so wet or, well, less green. She rarely gave herself the luxury of a stroll through the natural oasis in the middle of the city, her only use for the place being her routine morning jogs. But on that day, on that fine spring day, with the smell of wet sand wrapping around her with each twirl of the cold breeze, she allowed herself to close her eyes, pulled her mask down for a minute and took it all in.
The feeling of the gentle sun against her skin that chased away the chill of the playful wind. The smell of rain, moist and earthy. The sound of people going about their lives.
Children laughing in play. Dogs barking with excitement. Mothers chatting away while leisurely pulling their sleeping infants’ strollers. Work-a-holics, using the park as a convenient coffee break spot. All surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the city, the usual: traffic, raised voices and (of course) sirens.
A sound she was (unfortunately) much too familiar with as a consequence of her profession.
But for that day she didn’t have to think about that. She didn’t have to shred her humanity in favour of doing her job right. She didn’t have to worry about blood test results or MRI scans or patient meetings.
For one day she could simply be a single woman, enjoying what nature had to offer and breathing in fresh, none sterile air....well to the extent possible with her nose and mouth covered.
So with her hands in the pockets of her knee-length, hazel-brown cardigan, she calmly and carelessly put one booted foot in front of the other and took in the scenery around her. Different people, living different lives went about their individual business in the shared space. Some faces were new, other’s she’d seen once or twice before during her jogs.
A ways down the path, she found a mostly dry bench and decided to sit on it for a while. The view offered to her from there was of a wide open space and Hellen lost track of time as she daydreamed about what types of flowers might bloom there once spring reached its peak. It was a relaxing thought that allowed her, normally, racing mind to stop and unwind.
Her peace was broken by the sound of a hollering infant growing louder and louder the closer it got. Hellen wasn’t particularly bothered by the sound, she was simply worried about the infant and a part deep within her longed for the chance to hold said infant in her arms and comfort it. It was an instinct she’s had for a very long time and she’s just the right amount of sane not to act on impulse. Otherwise she might have had a number of restraining orders against her by now and that would not look good on her record.
But the universe kept toying with her heart and on that fine morning it was no different. As she looked in the general direction of where she assumed the sound was coming from, she saw a man approach with the crying infant squirming violently in his grasp. If not for the look of complete worry and devastation in the man’s eyes, Helen might have believed that he kidnapped the child.
“Luna baby please, calm down.” He pleaded as he took a seat next to Helen and she could hear the exhaustion in his muffled voice. The man didn’t look much older than herself, though the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead aged him considerably. A hunch told her that was the face of a first time, single parent but she shook the thought off, not allowing herself to simply assume.
Feeling his gaze upon her, the man turned his tired eyes to her for a brief second and apologised for the inconvenience.
“Oh there’s no need to apologise.” She said simply, leaning in slightly to ensure he could hear her above the infants cry. Miraculously, the baby girl seemed to quiet down a little, her cry decreasing in volume from a roar to a hum. She looked over at Helen curiously and, without thinking much about it, Helen offered her a smile (forgetting that she wouldn’t be able to see it) and a friendly little wave.
To the surprise of both adults, she reached her little hands out towards Helen and sobbed.
“Oh, Luna, what has gotten into you? I’m so sorry.” The stranger spoke and the resistance made the infant scream out in protest once more.
“That’s ok, I wouldn’t mind holding her if that’s ok with you?” Helen offered, her heart rate increasing slightly at the possibility. The man looked at her hesitantly, but Helen took no offense. He was, after all, a parent and she was nothing more than a stranger to him. Not to mention they were in the middle of a (thankfully) rapidly calming pandemic.
But his daughter was relentless and with a sigh of defeat he passed the child to her as he asked:
“Are you sure this won’t be a bother?”
“Not at all!” She assured him as she took the baby girl into her arms. In mere seconds the infant quieted down, the only sound leaving her were the slight hiccups that reminded her father of just how long her tantrum had been.
“There we go, isn’t that better?” Helen cooed, and the infant snuggled closer to her, holding onto her plain white t-shirt with a vice grip. Helen smiled down at her warmly. She was deeply content in that position, with the warm bundle snuggled close to her heart. It made her feel incomprehensibly complete. She reached into her pocket and brought out a handkerchief, wiping the infants tear stained face and her slightly runny nose as she bounced her happily on one knee.
The man next to them sank into the bench, letting his head fall back as he took in a deep breath and sighed out with a mixture of relief, embarrassment and frustration. He already felt like a failure as a parent but having a stranger calm his little girl with an ease he seemed incapable of mastering did not help his bruised ego.
“Rough day?” Hellen asked tentatively with a kind smile.
“Rough week.” The man breathed out without lifting his head or opening his eyes.
“If I hadn’t witnessed what I did earlier I would have found that hard to believe. She seems like a complete angel.” Helen admitted, caressing the little girls face and giving her cheeks a gentle pinch.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, she’s an angel most of the time. But every so often she makes it her mission to remind her daddy that parenting is hard, don’t you Luna?” The little girl hiccupped in response and her father sighed once again. His failure to mention Luna’s mother didn’t go unnoticed by Helen, but she didn’t pry.
“I’m sorry. But they say it gets easier as they grow. At least once she starts talking you’ll be able to ask what she needs instead of trying to decode screams like Morse code.” She tried to comfort him and that got her a sad chuckle out of the man.
“Ironically enough, I know what she needs, it’s the only word she ever says.”
On cue, Luna let out a shaky “Mama” and Helen looked down to find the child’s eyes locked on her. Her mouth ran dry for a moment as her heart beat picked up speed. For so long, she’d yearned to hear a little voice address her with the word but she never thought that the effect would be this impactful even from a child that wasn’t her own.
She looked up at the man in time to see him wipe away a stray tear and despite the bittersweet euphoria she felt at that moment, her heart ached with sympathy.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she said without thinking, her eyes widening moments later as she realised what she had just said.
“Oh apologies, I didn’t mean to assume I-”
“It’s alright. You’re not wrong.” He answered and the tone of sadness in his voice chipped away at her heart.
“It’s been Luna and I for almost a year now. My wife had a difficult delivery. She didn’t make it. Luna’s all I have left of her now.” Helen listened without interrupting, slightly taken aback by the ease with which the stranger confided such intimate information with her.
“And as you can see I’m doing a great job with her.” He chuckled with a tone of sarcastic enthusiasm.
“Well...um,” Helen stopped realizing she didn’t know the man’s name despite seemingly having half his life story.
She looked to the man for help but when he simply offered her an expectant look she realised that she was going to have to be more direct.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite get your name.”
His eyes widened with realization.
“Oh gosh, how rude of me I offer you my child but not my name. Max, Max Goodwin.” He introduced himself and extended his hand out for her to shake, a slight tint of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks.
“That’s alright and I’m Helen. Helen Sharpe.” She took his outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake, an action that almost seemed foreign given the recent restraints on physical contact. The steadiness in his grip surprised her (what with the man looking as tired as he did) and offered her a hint of a sense of security that she couldn’t quite place.
As far as first impressions go, he was making a pretty good one despite the initial tantrum.
“And as I was saying. She’s alive, feels to be about the right weight and looks as healthy as ever. So, if it serves as any consolation, you ARE in fact doing a great job.” Helen tried to use a bit of her medical knowledge to comfort him and though his features relaxed with ease, they lacked the usual surprise she was met with when she spoke professionally without her uniform on. Adding to her surprise, she didn’t get the usual “How would you know that?”. Instead, Max (with a knowing smile) asked:
“Doctor?”
Helen returned the smile and nodded.
“How’d you guess?”
“I used to work in medicine myself. Took sometime off recently to take care of this little monster...” he stopped to tickle Luna’s stomach to which she responded with a childish giggle.
“And now I can barely feed her without her consent. I’m being dominated by a 1 year old.”
Helen couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“Would you like some help? There’s a café nearby that has a child friendly menu. I’m sure we can get her a mash of some kind.” She offered and Max’s eyes widened slightly. He looked both worried and hopeful.
“You don’t have to do that, I’ve bothered you enough as it is,” he answered, readying himself to take Luna back when Sharpe stood and readjusted her hold on the child.
“It would actually be my pleasure. I was on my way to a lonely breakfast anyway and could do with some company.” She fibbed. Breakfast isn’t exactly what she’d call it as much as an early snack. She’d eaten before her walk, but she was enjoying the weight of the infant in her arms and didn’t want to part with her just yet.
To her relief, Max agreed and the two stepped into a comfortable walking pace side-by-side. Luna rested her head on the crook of Sharpe’s neck and for a second, Helen worried that her perfume might suffocate the infant. It was an all natural, vanilla concoction that she used on occasion and the little girl didn’t seem to be minding one bit.
In fact, a little while into the walk, Helen felt her muscles strain as Luna seemed to have suddenly grown heavier. One look down and she noticed full lashes fluttering over rounded cheeks.
The baby was asleep.
“We might have to postpone breakfast.” She whispered and Max looked down at the sleeping Luna in Helen’s arms. His eyes told her he was smiling as he shook his head.
“I think I can take it from here.” He said, reaching out for his child. Though Helen wanted to hold on a little longer she handed Luna back to Max. During that exchange a familiar scent wafted by him. It was a subtle, sweet vanilla, reminiscent of the one Georgia used to wear.
Suddenly Luna's draw towards Helen made sense. Though Max still believed that the perfume was a start but Helen's warmth sealed the deal. Proving his theory, Helen looked at Luna longingly after giving her back and stroked the child’s back with a tender affection that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Well there’s no reason breakfast should be cancelled. You were my saviour today so I’d like to repay you.” Max offered because he wanted to show his gratitude towards her and give her a chance to spend a little more time with Luna. Mostly because Helen looked like she would enjoy that and not because he was curious about Helen.
That seeing how easily she calmed Luna had warmed him up inside. That the look of endearment in her eyes as she stroked his sleeping daughter made him smile involuntarily. That he somehow felt surprisingly at ease with her, enough to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets.
No. It absolutely had nothing to do with that.
“You don’t have to do that. She’s a joy to be with and nothing beats the comfort offered by that soft baby smell.” Helen dismissed though her eyes told a different story.
“Please, I insist.” Max pressed but before Helen could answer her phone hollered for attention.
She apologized as she brought it out and her eyes grew weary as she looked at the caller ID.
“I’m sorry I have to take this.”
“Please, go ahead.”
She picked up, her demeanor changing instantly.
“This is Sharpe.”
She listened intently, the furrow of her brow growing deeper with each passing second. After a minute she sighed and answered:
“I’ll need 15 minutes to get there...OK.”
With that she hung up and looked at Max apologetically.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to rain check. Duty calls.”
“Oh no I completely understand.” Max responded, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice. They had just met, he didn’t have a way of contacting her and he hadn’t even seen her whole face. The chances of that rain check ever happening were slim to none.
As if reading his mind she reached into the pocket of her jeans and brought out a small card wallet. From there she took out a neat, white and blue calling card with black writing on it and handed it to him.
“Here’s my card. Text me the details and I’ll shuffle around my schedule.”
He awkwardly took the card (what with a sleeping infant in his arms and all) and nodded.
“Alright. I guess I’ll shoot you a text.” He said, regretting the expression as soon as the words left his mouth. Helen chuckled as she turned around readying herself to leave.
“See you around Max.” She bid him farewell and the lack of a goodbye had Max smiling the rest of the day.
That was how their story began.
With a chance encounter.