Vivian

by Marie, Bernadette

  Though, as she ate her toast with strawberry jelly on it, she smiled. If that man were to send her off every day like that, it wouldn’t be a chore.

  As she pulled up in front of the house, she looked at the clock. Was she late? Amelia, Sam, Penelope, and Brock were all parked on the street and the house was lit up. She hoped nothing else had happened on this day they were to open their doors.

  She climbed from the car, gathered her bags, and ran up the front steps.

  When she pulled open the door, she saw what they were all doing. The bannister of the staircase, which now had a gate at the bottom, was adorned with balloons. Welcome signs hung in each room. There were flowers by the door with names on them. They must be for the mothers, she thought.

  She could hear commotion from the kitchen so she walked back to find the four of them hovering over a box of donuts.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  Amelia shoved in a half of a donut and looked right at her. “Waiting for you,” she managed without any food falling out of her mouth.

  “I didn’t know you were going to do all this.”

  Penelope smiled sweetly. “Brock’s mom is in town and she thought it would be a nice touch. So we did the balloons last night.”

  “What are the flowers?”

  “For the moms.”

  That’s what she’d thought. “What about the dads?” she asked, thinking of Clayton.

  Amelia moved in closer to her and nudged her with her elbow. “We figured you were taking care of the dads.”

  That should have been one of those moments when she unleashed on her. It wasn’t called for when she did things like that. But it obviously wasn’t something to hide anymore.

  “Not yet, but you’ll be watching all four girls all night on Friday.”

  Amelia finished her bite and then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me. I need you guys. I really need you,” she stressed. “Clayton and I want a night alone.”

  Sam picked up a donut out of the box. “So there is something going on there?”

  “We’re working through it,” she said in a very somber tone as she set her bags on a chair. “His wife was killed two years ago in a school shooting.”

  The very mention of it had Penelope in tears and Brock moved in quickly to console her.

  “Damn,” Sam said with a wince. “I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

  “It’s okay. Things were headed that way from the minute he walked into this house. I got spooked by the wedding ring.”

  “I noticed he wore it,” Penelope muttered against Brock’s chest.

  “It was in Seattle. This is his fresh start.”

  “Seattle?” Sam asked and Vivian nodded. “Kid killed another kid and shot a few more before he shot the teacher he had some romanticized thoughts over.”

  “That’s her.”

  “Oh, damn. He seems pretty solid.”

  “I think his walls are pretty high. Just like mine.” She reached for a donut. “But I think we could tear them down together.”

  Amelia let a smile form on her lips and it always softened her Vivian thought. “The girls all get along well?”

  “They have already asked to be sisters. This was all on their own. Oh, and they’ve ordered a brother because they think Penelope is having a sister.”

  The very thought of the conversation Emma had with Clayton had her on the verge of hysterical laughter.

  “When I look at the man I think I could actually give them that.”

  She knew every eye was on her, but she just didn’t care. Clayton North was her miracle and she was going to embrace him.

  By seven o’clock all seven kids had been signed in and their first day had begun. She’d forgotten how much fun three-year-olds could be when there were a few of them. They colored, read stories, played on the new playground, had lunch, and then it was naptime. Perhaps it was the excitement of the day, but each of them fell asleep on their little cot within ten minutes. She was fairly sure that would never happen again.

  Penelope sat in the rocking chair, her hands on her enlarged stomach. She’d volunteered to sit while they were all quiet for the next hour.

  Vivian walked to the kitchen and sat down to rest.

  “I’m going to be tired tonight, but I’m really having fun,” she said even amazed to hear herself say it.

  “Clayton looked cute getting all the girls out of the car.”

  “Doesn’t really work though. We’re going to need a different car,” she thought, then looked up to Amelia grinning at her. “What?”

  “We’re going to have to get a different car. Did you marry the guy?”

  “No.”

  “You’re going to.”

  “Not for a long time.”

  “Whatever.”

  Now she was on her feet. She found that standing eye to eye with the woman made it seem more even. “I’m not like you two. I don’t just go and marry a man.”

  “Don’t knock it. You never know what you’ll do.”

  “I won’t do that.”

  Amelia just chuckled and remained positioned right where she was, leaned against the counter.

  “I didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

  No, Vivian was sure with Clayton it wouldn’t be.

  She let herself relax. “I’m scared.”

  “Why?”

  Vivian moved back toward her chair and sat down. “He’s hurt. I’m hurt. There’s so much…junk.”

  Amelia grabbed her water bottle from the counter and sat down across from her.

  “You’re both human and it’s okay to love again. I feel whole with Sam. And for the first time I’m thinking about things I never thought I would.”

  “Like what?”

  Amelia smiled. “Family.”

  Vivian studied her. “You’re pregnant?”

  “Late.”

  “Pregnant.”

  “Not confirmed.”

  “Pregnant.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Happy?”

  “Deliriously so.”

  She could feel both excitement and jealousy run through her. She wasn’t sure which one she was supposed to embrace. “What does he say?”

  “To keep quiet until the wedding.”

  She decided that the happy feeling was going to win today. There was no room in her life for negative. “I think that’s wonderful.”

  Amelia rested her hands on Vivian’s. At that moment, Vivian was sure she was pregnant. Only something like that would soften Amelia enough to offer such a gesture.

  “Something is bothering you. It isn’t this new found love for Clayton. You’re not even mad that I might be pregnant.”

  “You’re pregnant.”

  “Unconfirmed.”

  “Hmmm,” she hummed out. “Something crossed my mind yesterday when I was talking to Clayton.” She looked at Amelia. “Adam asked for a divorce.”

  “Right. He wrote to you.”

  “Why? Why did he need a divorce? We weren’t ever legally married.”

  She watched as Amelia’s eyes opened wide. “He didn’t know that.”

  Vivian shook her head. “I can’t vouch for what he knew about his marriage to Penelope. For all we know that marriage was a sham so he could sleep with her.”

  “You can’t ever tell her that.”

  “I never would.” And that was a promise she’d forever keep. True or not. “Something happened to that marriage certificate.”

  “How could she do this to you? All these years?”

  “When I went to Oklahoma City the other day I was looking for information on where she might be in rehab. I, of course, am no one, so I can’t find her. And Frank won’t return my calls.”

  “Maybe Darby has contacted them and he knows we think she’s up to something.”

  “Maybe. I’ll have to talk to him.” She heard the stirring in the other room. “For now I’m going to focus on this business and getting move
d in here. And Clayton living with us.”

  “He’s living with you?”

  “When I realized Adam had asked for a divorce I think I was on a bit of a rant. He wants to stay close until we know what’s going on.”

  “And that’s why he brought the girls.”

  “He slept on the couch.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. He’s that kind of gentleman.”

  “Maybe he’ll never go back.”

  Vivian felt the smile that pushed at her cheeks. “Maybe not.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Clayton packed up at school and drove by his house. He collected his mail, more clothes, and whatever was about to go bad in the refrigerator. He had nine more months on the lease. Perhaps he’d better assume Vivian was safe and move home, or move her in with him.

  No. She needed to be at the old house. The girls should be enveloped in something that had a part of their father. The house would offer that. He’d run through these halls as a boy. They’d have a connection to it.

  He’d promised Brock an hour of his help on the bedroom in the old house. Vivian would just be cleaning up and then they could head home.

  He liked the thought of it. They. Home. The male hormones running through him wondered if she’d solidified a date for Amelia and Penelope to watch the girls. He had romantic plans for dinner and whatever she wanted to do after, but he was man enough to hope she really wanted to go home and do what men and women do.

  It had been two years for him and at least as long for her. They both were two sexually pent up people.

  When he pulled up in front of the old house, he climbed from his car and pulled out the bag of items he’d taken from his refrigerator. He’d store them in the kitchen until they headed to Vivian’s.

  The days were growing shorter and the daylight was already slipping away. Streetlights were already turning on and the house in front of him was illuminated. As he approached the house, he could hear small voices and laughs coming from inside. There was a lock on the front door, so he’d have to be buzzed into the house now that it had kids in it. He liked the idea. Even his elementary school had the same security. Everything was different now that kids took guns and weapons to school.

  The very thought gave his heart a kick and the sickness of it jolted through his stomach. Before he hit the buzzer on the door, he took a moment to compose himself. He wasn’t going to take any bad energy into the house with him.

  Amelia hurried to the door, a paintbrush in her hand. “Oh, hey. I thought maybe you were Kelly’s mom.”

  “Is she late?”

  “No, Kelly is just ready to head home. She’s had one very full day and has a lot to tell Mom about.”

  He smiled as he stepped through the door and let it close behind him. “That’s good, right?”

  Amelia nodded and crooked a finger for him to follow. They stood just out of sight near the room that had once been the dining room. Vivian sat on the floor with six little girls and one little boy playing what looked like hot potato. The kids laughed and the sweetest sound echoed in his ears—Vivian’s laughter as she played with the kids.

  “She was meant to do this,” Amelia whispered. “She has a gift.”

  Didn’t he know it? Just being with her the other night he’d calmed when she’d asked about Linda. He’d told her everything and he’d never done that before. Her hard exterior was from the hurt Adam had caused her. But he thought, in time, that would shatter and her hate for Adam would too. He’d be there to catch her when she had that fall, but when it was done, he was sure she’d always be as happy as she was on the floor with those kids.

  Charlotte looked up from the game. He’d have expected her to run to him, but she didn’t. Instead, she giggled and continued to play with Vivian and the other kids.

  Amelia turned to Clayton. “Brock is upstairs working in the attic.”

  “I’ll put this food away and head up.”

  Amelia started up the stairs as he headed back to the kitchen.

  Penelope sat at the table with her feet propped up on another chair. She rubbed her stomach in small circles.

  “How are you feeling?” He asked as he opened the refrigerator and placed the bag inside.

  “I don’t think he’s going to hold on too much longer. A couple of weeks, max.”

  As he shut the door, he turned to her. “Who will give out first? You or the baby?”

  She let out a small laugh. “I feel like a house. Look at my ankles.”

  He looked down at her feet and his first thought was what ankles? Of course, he replied, “That’s normal. Let me get you an ice pack.”

  Clayton opened a drawer and pulled out a storage bag. He went to the freezer and filled it with ice from the ice tray. Pulling the towel from the handle on the oven door, he wrapped it around the bag and then gently set it on Penelope’s ankles.

  “Linda’s ankles used to swell like that. She carried the girls right out front. If you saw her from behind you’d never have known she was pregnant. But her ankles,” he smiled, “they were always swollen.”

  “Linda was your wife?”

  He keyed right into the word was as Penelope said it. It was something he’d never get used to.

  “Yes.”

  She reached for him. “I’m sorry about your loss.”

  He gave her hand a pat. “Thank you. It’s nice to finally be moving forward again.”

  She smiled up at him sweetly before she returned her hands to her stomach.

  “Are you having contractions?”

  She shook her head. “He’s changing positions or something. We are not cohabitating well right now.”

  Clayton watched her as she adjusted with the baby’s movement. Pregnancy was always a wonder to him. When Linda was pregnant, it had been hard for him to keep his hands off of her. He wanted to touch her all the time.

  He’d seen Brock touch Penelope in the same way he’d touched Linda. The thought crossed his mind that Penelope and Brock would probably have another baby soon, just as he and Linda had.

  It was then the pain of it all settled into his chest. They’d planned to have four children. Stephanie and Charlotte were only eighteen months apart. It was exactly how they wanted them spaced. The unfortunate realization was that Linda had to go back to work for them to afford another baby. How could they have ever known it would have been the one thing to destroy their lives?

  “Are you okay?”

  Penelope was looking up at him as he stood staring at her. “Sorry. I got lost in thought.”

  Clayton bent down and kissed her on the top of the head. “Yell if you need anything.”

  He headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to help Brock.

  Amelia was in the hallway painting the trim around the bedroom door. “You’d better help him before he hurts himself. He’s determined to get that closet torn out. I don’t know what he’s doing.”

  “Building her a loft with a set of stairs.”

  Amelia looked as though she were processing the idea. “So turn the attic into a sitting room?”

  “Right. Then other than the kitchen, they’ll have a real living space up here.”

  She smiled wide. “He’s genius.”

  “I heard that,” Brock shouted from inside the room. “I could use some help.”

  Clayton moved into the room, which had been stripped of everything in it. “I’m glad you have a vision. I can’t see anything of use in here.”

  Brock chuckled from on a ladder in the hollowed out area that was once the closet. “Help me pull this down.”

  Clayton reached for the piece of wood, which Brock was working with and together they pulled off the board, which had framed the closet.

  “This is going to take about a month to do on the schedule we have. She’s going to have to stay in the other room until then.”

  “She could move in with me,” Clayton said as he set the wood in the pile Brock had already started.

  Amelia was qu
ick to peek her head around the corner. “No. And I don’t mean any disrespect with that,” she added. “Penelope is having a baby in a few weeks. I’m getting married in a few weeks. We need her here and available. When everything settles down then…”

  “I understand,” Clayton nodded. “It’ll be tight, but we’ll all be okay here.”

  She narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re worried something will happen?”

  “Until you all know who was here that night and where Adam’s mother is, she’s not leaving my sight if she’s not with you.”

  Brock climbed down off the ladder. “Sam’s been looking for her.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to mention what he does in his office.”

  Amelia pointed the paintbrush in his direction. “Spill it.”

  He nodded. “The Monroes are no longer living in Florida. Only, he doesn’t know where they went.”

  “His dad is missing too?”

  Brock nodded. “He learned that today.”

  Amelia looked back at Clayton. “Stay with her. We’ll work hard to get this place fixed up. When I get back from my honeymoon then, she can move in with you.”

  He smiled. “I’ll be happy wherever she is.”

  There was a sparkle that danced in Amelia’s eyes even when her face was stone cold. “She deserves you. You make her happy.”

  “We’re good for each other.”

  Amelia gave him a nod and went back to working on the trim.

  Clayton picked up a broom and began to sweep.

  They were good for each other. He’d never have thought that two broken souls could mend each other, but he believed it now.

  Since the day he’d met her he’d felt at peace. He’d been searching for that for nearly two years. He wasn’t fool enough to think that the pain would go away completely. He knew better. But he wanted the ache to go away. It had when he’d met Vivian.

  “What in the hell?” Brock stepped down the ladder. “Holy cow, she was burying money in the walls too.”

  Both Amelia and Clayton moved toward him as he held out a handful of twenty-dollar bills.

  “That’s why there are holes in the walls,” Amelia looked toward the closet.