“We’ll be right here when you get back,” Laura says.
“I know,” I answer, and step away, leaving my family in the market, trusting that they’ll be there when I return.
The door opens, and Miriam looks at me with wide eyes. She throws herself in my arms, so happy she is to see me and then pulls herself away, looking embarrassed. I smile at her, “It’s good to see you too, Miriam.”
Ruth comes running up and she also hugs me. I crouch down and hug her back, “How’ve you been holding up, kiddo?”
“I have a new teddy bear,” she says, shows it to me quickly, and then runs back into the apartment to whatever she was doing.
“It’s lovely to see you, Mr. Heed.” Miriam says. “Can I get you anything?”
I smile at her, and shake my head. She looks disappointed. Ever since I saved their lives, they seem to think they owe me something. They owe me nothing, which I keep reminding them. I just want to make sure they’re okay.
I made sure that they could move here safely, too. Anybody who wanted to relocate, I took care of. Most of the clients had moved into this area, creating their own new neighborhood here, away from the Malcons’ potential return.
“I was just in the neighborhood with my family,” I say with a smile, “and I thought I’d drop in to see how you two are doing.”
“We’re doing great,” Miriam answers. “We love this place. It’s so peaceful and there are always fresh vegetables to be had.”
“That’s really good,” I reply. I don’t want to spend a lot of time here - my worry still calls me back to my family. Ruth and Miriam seem to be doing well, and I don’t see the lines of anxiety that used to exist under Miriam’s eyes. That’s a very good sign. Ruth seems playful and uncaring of the world’s troubles - like a kid should be.
“Has anybody been giving you any trouble?” I ask. She looks at me suspiciously, and then a little bit afraid.
“There’s no reason for you to think anybody will,” I quickly say. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay here and that you’re happy.” She relaxes again immediately. My word is enough for her. That worries me a bit, I can only hope that there is actually nothing for her to worry about. It’s so easy to convince her of it, and yet why do I still think about it, still worry that the Malcons might return.
“No, everything has been fine here. And nobody is reporting any trouble,” Miriam says, smiling widely. “Thank you again for everything you’ve done, Mr. Heed. If ever we can do anything for you or your family, don’t hesitate.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I answer. I hug her goodbye and head back down to my family, not feeling as relieved as I’d hoped this visit would make me feel.
I’m looking across the crowded marketplace, and my breath catches in my throat. I can’t see Laura or Jane. I see a lot of people milling about, old people, couples, children at play, lots of vendors chatting with each other. The chatter is growing into a crescendo as more people are filing in. It’s approaching lunch hour, and the nearby offices are emptying out. People are coming to get their early lunches, wander about, get an ice cream cone… and I can’t see my family.
I try to relax, but I’m walking much faster than I should be. I go down an aisle, and another, and still no sign of them. Maybe Laura is just crouching somewhere looking at something, but she should have stood by now, it’s been a few minutes. Where could she be?
I head towards the bathroom. I don’t see anybody outside of them. I wait a few minutes, listening for a baby’s cry - maybe Laura had to change a diaper. But they don’t come out of the bathroom either.
I peek in when a woman walks out of the ladies’ room. I see the changing table and nobody’s using it. I turn, walking away, retracing my steps, feeling frantic. Sweat is starting to cling to the collar of my shirt.
They’re nowhere. They’re gone because I abandoned them, because I let down my guard, and somebody swooped in and stole them away, right under my nose.
I have to call the FBI. I have to call Dan. I have to call 911 and find them again. Find Shorty, throw him in prison for the rest of his natural, worthless life where he can’t ever get to any of us again. I step outside, phone in hand, and to my left, I see Laura, babbling away to Jane. She sees me and looks up smiling. Her smile drops a bit as she catches sight of my wide eyes.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
“I just couldn’t find you,” I answer. My heart rate is still elevated. I try to calm down.
“I just stepped out because it got so loud in there. You know I don’t like crowded places that much. Are you alright?” She looks concerned, and I feel like an idiot. I gather her in my arms.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I promise you I’m fine.” But I know I’m not. Because my gut keeps telling me that someone is watching, and I can’t ignore it, because if I do, and something does happen to them, I’ll never forgive myself. I can only hope that she’ll be understanding of this as she seems to be of everything else. But I’m not so sure she will be, because I’m not telling her why I’m so worried. I can’t. I want to, but I can’t. The more she knows, the more in danger she becomes. I hope that her ignorance proves to be both of our salvations.
19
Laura
The words on the page fail to capture me, as they’ve done so often of late. It’s not the book’s fault, really. It’s more like the fault of the view that’s in front of me. I peek over the top edge of my book. Chris is holding Jane, trying to get her to sleep so I can read in peace. He’s walking back and forth, singing little lullabies. Jane half-cries and half-laughs as he makes faces at her and does little dance moves for her.
To think that when she was born, he was afraid to touch her. Now, he’s a natural. He seems to be as in love with her as she is with him. It makes me smile. Just a few months ago, I’d imagined my life so differently. I’d imagined that I’d still be living with my brother, and I would be raising this child mostly alone, with support from Dan, of course, and Amanda. But mostly by myself. A single parent home. So many had done a fantastic job with it that I wasn’t too worried.
Well, no, that’s a lie. I was terrified. Part of me is still terrified that this is some kind of a mirage, and that at any moment I’m going to wake up. That the beautiful penthouse apartment we live in will vanish. That my wonderful husband? will be gone. That I’ll have no more security, no more support. No more love. And that even little Jane will disappear, and I’ll be back at the bookstore, working day in, day out, and going home to try to write a book that’s not co-operating or read one that’s barely worth analyzing.
But, no. I’m here now, and my life is beautiful. I’m lucky. So many don’t have what I have. In this moment, watching Chris dance with Jane, it feels like my life is complete.
“There’s the sleepy head,” Chris says as Jane starts to let herself go to sleep. He winks at me and whispers, “I’m a champion.”
“I know you are,” I whisper-laugh to him. He vanishes towards the nursery. He won’t be back for a few minutes. He’ll put her down, and she’ll sleep fine, but he’ll probably stay there, watching her sleep for a bit. I imagine he’s also disbelieving about what he has. I wonder if he fears it’s a mirage as well, and that at any moment, it will vanish. Maybe that’s why he’s been so over-protective. At the market today, when he lost sight of us for just a few moments, he practically hyperventilated. He came out looking for a fight.
Part of me understands it. He spent so long withdrawn from his own life. His life was stolen from him, in a way - believed dead by those who loved him and those who wanted a chance to love him. He probably feels it more than I do, this idea of a mirage. This secondary life that someone is living out there, that parallels this one almost perfectly, save for one major element. For me, it’s Chris and Jane. For Chris, I imagine it’s me and Jane.
I stand up and stretch, and walk out on the balcony to gaze over the night sky of the city, its gorgeous pinpricks of multicolored lights - some moving,
some stationary, some blinking, some steady - all stretched out below me, like a canopy of eternity that I could step onto in a minute, and float away to infinity. That’s the mirage. The mirage is that second life that I keep imagining exists somewhere. This is my reality, and I’m lucky to have this.
I sense Chris approach and smile as he puts his arms around my waist and hugs me close. I lean back into him.
“She’s finally asleep,” he whispers in my ear.
“Thanks for putting her down,” I say.
“Any time. I just love spending time with both of you...but, we should be getting to bed,” he says, weariness marking his voice. “I have an early day tomorrow.”
“Alright,” I agree, reaching back for him, running my hand up his arm. I feel a shiver travel through his body. Being parents means that we didn’t get to enjoy each other nearly as much as we might like to. “I thought that maybe I could talk you into staying up a little bit longer?”
He doesn’t need any more encouragement, gently turning me around and kissing me passionately.
I fall into his embrace, and we both tumble toward the bed.
I am full. I am happy. I have everything that I’ve ever wanted, even if it’s not the life I expected to have.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay with her, Amanda?” I ask, watching Amanda play with Jane.
“Of course I am. I used to babysit all the time, remember? Unlike you, Miss Book Person.”
“Wow, awesome insult,” I laugh. “Sorry, it’s just, I’ve never actually left her alone with anyone.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Amanda says. “But you need to get out, and you want to get Chris’ special gift. You have to leave the kid at some point. I have milk, I have stories, and I have my amazing personality, loved by babies all over. You go and have fun. I’ll stay here with little Miss Jane, and we’re going to have our own fun. Besides, she wants more independence. She’s let me know, you know. It’s an Auntie thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
Jane gurgles from the floor, trying to grab Amanda’s passing arm. Amanda offers her a finger, and Jane latches on to it, laughing.
“Alright, alright,” I still feel a knot in my throat at leaving Jane. It’s so weird. I didn’t have this little person in my life until two months ago. And now that she’s here, I can’t imagine being anywhere but here with her, at all times. But I want to get something nice for Chris. A little thank you from us, to remind him that we’re always here. I’m thinking a nice watch, something fancy.
But Jane has been fussing all morning. I don’t want to drag her out to a store. It might take some time to find the right watch, and I’m not going to be cheap stores, either. Chris does have expensive tastes.
I run through all the reasons why it’s a good idea to leave Jane here, but at the end of it, I still can’t help but feel guilty.
“I would enjoy some time alone with Miss Jane,” Amanda says, “and I’m sure that she loves my company too. Now go… have fun. Buy yourself an expensive latte and a ridiculous pair of shoes.”
I laugh again and agree, but I bite my lip again as I look at Jane.
“Go,” Amanda says and practically pushes me out of the apartment. The door closes behind me. I take a deep breath. It’s just for a few hours; I have my cell phone. Amanda will call me if she needs me. The baby will be fine. What I need to worry about right now, is finding that perfect watch. That’s my mission.
After one ridiculous latte, staring at some ridiculous pairs of shoes, and finding a perfect silver watch with gold accents, I begin the journey back to the apartment. I ended up fairly far from home, so I call a taxi to head back. I hate driving in the city. I’ve been a public transportation girl for so long, that I just can’t get used to all the crazy drivers cutting you off, swearing at you, shouting. I can hear horns blaring all the time just now.
A taxi passes by and I wave. It pulls over. That’s impressive luck. It must mean that this is a lucky day after all. I hop into the back and give my address.
The car pulls away from the curb and starts to head down the main road, heading back towards my home. I look down at the watch. It is perfect, and underneath it, I’ve had engraved: “Yours forever.”
It seems presumptuous. It’s not like we’re married or anything. I mean, we have a kid, we get along fine, we love each other, I’ve no doubt. But, he hasn’t asked me if I’ll be his forever. I want him to be mine forever, but I don’t want him to think that I’m cornering him, demanding some kind of proposal, when all I wanted to let him know was that, no matter what, a piece of me will always love him.
I can’t assume he feels the same way, although I’m pretty sure he does. Maybe I should have left the back of the watch empty. But the inscription was free with the expensive watch, and it’s the first thing that came to my mind. It felt so right. It still does, for me. I guess I’m about to find out if it’s right for him, too.
Maybe I’ll swing by his office and give it to him there. No. No, I don’t want this to be witnessed by other people like Dan. I want this to be something private for Chris and I. It’s really the first gift that I’ve given him. Well, aside from Jane, I suppose. Although that was more of a gift that we gave to each other.
I want this watch to last him a good long time. There’s even a little compass on it so that he can always find his way home to me. I’m lost in thought. When I finally look up, I realize that I’m not actually sure where we are.
We must be taking some back streets, but it doesn’t actually look like back streets. They look like bigger streets, in a neighborhood I’m not familiar with.
“Excuse me,” I ask the driver. “Are we still headed to Wingham Street?”
No answer. There’s a glass that protects the driver from passengers. I knock on it. The driver glances back into the rear-view mirror. His eyes are dark and sharp and full of something I don’t like. Is it victory? Hatred?
“Pull over,” I demand in my most imposing voice, but even I can hear the fear in it. Every syllable shaking. I try again, “I said, pull over!”
He focuses back on the road and keeps driving, one of his hands flicking at a switch on the dash - a second partition, made of dark glass, comes up between us. I try to lower the window, but I can’t. They’re locked, and the door won’t open either. I realize that the windows, like the new partition, are one-way glass. I noticed it briefly when I went to step in the vehicle, seeing my reflection in their mirrored surfaces but thought nothing of it. Nobody can even see me.
I grab my phone from my purse and dial Amanda. I know, why am I not dialing 911? Because I’m a human mother, that’s why. The phone clicks, buzzes - it’s going to ring through - and the call drops. I check my bars, plenty of bars, damnit! I dial Chris - maybe we had hit a weird coverage area - but no, this call starts to connect and then drops.
A knock on the partition grabs my attention and I look up at the driver, meeting his hard gaze - he reaches out to his dash again and taps a small rectangular box stuck there as he hollers a word and laughs. His voice is muffled through both partitions but I can hear him clear enough, “JAMMER!”
I scream and pound my fist against the tempered glass, but the driver just smirks at my efforts. Dirty, horrible bastard! I can barely breathe. I’m trapped, and I don’t know by whom, or why. I shove my phone back into my purse and place my palm against the side window. I look at the streets going by, trying to figure out where I’m headed so that maybe I can make my way back.
I don’t have much on me, but I have the watch. I keep staring out of the window, but I work it out of the box and slip it under the seat. Under “Yours Forever” I’d included my initials, “L.M.” Maybe, if I end up dying, somebody will find this watch and link it back to me and find my murderer.
Don’t be silly, I think. This isn’t the plot of a book. This is real life. Why would somebody even take you? Why would somebody…
It dawns on me. Chris. The fear he’s been having, so palpable of late. This was it. T
his is what he’s feared and, like a fool, I’ve walked straight into whatever trap awaited me. I close my eyes and lower my forehead against the glass. I pray for the chance to be able to see home again and to hold Chris and Jane and never let them go.
20
Chris
I’m so engrossed in the file in front of me, about an attempted land grab by an oil company, that I don’t hear the first text alert. Then my phone buzzes again, and I look at it, seeing Laura’s name. I smile and pick it up. She likes to send me pictures of Jane during the day so that I feel like I’m still part of the activities at home.
Home… now there’s a word I love. Never loved it as much as I do now.
It’s not a picture, though. It’s a message. Four words.
We haven’t forgotten you.
My blood turns cold. Another buzz as another message comes in. It’s an address. And then another buzz.
If you go to the police, she dies. We’ll know.
I can’t breathe. I look at the messages - all three of them lined up - and I can’t breathe right now. My hands are growing numb, my throat is dry… I want to scream and leap up all at once, but I remain frozen in my seat, debating what my best options are.
“How’s the file coming along?” Dan asks, poking his head into my office. I look up at him. I force myself to smile.
“Oh, it’s boring, but I’m getting there.”
“Are you good?” he asks, frowning.
No, I’m not good. I want to say. Your sister, my partner, has been taken by the mob. She’s probably going to end up dead, and I don’t know if I can save her. But I’m going to try, which means I’ll probably end up dead, and then we’ll have an orphan of a child. Which you can take care of, right Dan? You can handle that, right buddy?
Forbidden Neighbor: A Contemporary Romance Boxset (Forbidden Saga Book 2) Page 41
