Daffodils in March

by Clare Revell

  “Really confused,” she whispered, running her finger around the rim of her cup. “And scared.”

  Nate picked up one of the coffees, sipping it, nodding for her to continue.

  “See, I have this friend, and I think he’s in some kind of trouble. No, make that he is in trouble, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “What kind of trouble? Financial, drinking too much, gambling?”

  She glanced up, then down. “I think it’s the illegal kind.”

  Nate’s whole posture changed. “Think?”

  “He’s different now,” Eden said. “He carries a gun for one thing and…” She broke off, catching sight of David turning away from the counter, coffee in hand. How could she not have seen him come in? Had he overheard her? She shuddered and changed the subject. “Lack of sleep is a major problem. Marc’s pretty easy to look after, just wish he’d sleep all night.”

  Nate’s expression was almost comical as he struggled to keep up with her. “I’m sorry?”

  “At least you weren’t up with him all night,” David said, his tone still rough. “I was.” He nodded to Nate. “Sgt. Holmes.”

  “David.” Nate stood. “I should go. Nice talking to you. We’ll have to catch up properly at some point.”

  Eden nodded. “OK.”

  “Don’t leave on my account.” David put his coffee on the table.

  Nate waved the cups and his congenial smile faded. “My partner will be wondering where this is.”

  David dropped into the seat next to Eden, and waited until Nate had left before speaking. “Well?”

  Eden dug her nails into her palms. “He sat here. Asked how things were going.”

  “Were you talking about me?”

  Heat flamed her cheeks and gnawed at the pit of her stomach. But she hadn’t mentioned his name, so technically, no, she wasn’t. She shifted in her seat and pushed her coffee away. “Contrary to what you might like to think, David, the whole world does not revolve around you.” She started to stand.

  David grabbed her hands. “Good. Eden, I know how this looks, but there are things going on, big things, things you couldn’t possibly understand. All I ask is that you trust—”

  Eden scoffed. “How? How can I do that after what just happened and the way you’ve been acting recently? Give me a reason.”

  His intense gaze burned through her. “This is big, and my whole career rides on it.”

  Eden scowled. “You are even more self-centered than I remember.” She pulled free. “In which case, I won’t detain you any longer. Marc and I will go and let you get on with your oh-so-important-story. Can’t let little old me get in the way of you saving the world or whatever it is.”

  She gripped the pram and headed to the door, backing out of it in one movement. And to think part of her still carried a torch for that man in the vain hope that one day he’d come to his senses and fall back in love with her.

  Not going to happen. So, get over him. Fast.

  As she arrived home and was about to put her key in the lock, a woman in a suit appeared beside her.

  “Miss Jameson?”

  Eden nodded.

  The woman held out a letter. “This is for you. Sign here.”

  Eden signed the form and took the letter.

  She pushed the pram into the hallway and shut the front door. She leaned against it and opened the letter. She read the sheet of headed paper twice, the words not sinking in. It was from David’s solicitor—Adam West. Not the one they’d been to see together when they listened to Hanna’s will being read.

  Eden rubbed her eyes, seeing but not believing. David was contesting the will and suing her for full custody of Marc.

  ****

  David arrived home, regretting the way he’d spoken to Eden earlier that morning. More than regretting. He hated himself for it. So much so that he’d stopped off at the Carnation Street florist on the way home and bought two bunches of daffodils and a box of chocolates. He’d gotten her favorites, hoping to make up for earlier. And daffodils for her as well as for the window.

  He let himself into the quiet house. “Eden, are you home?”

  “In the lounge.”

  He went in and smiled. “How was your day?”

  She didn’t even look up from the TV. “Pretty naff, actually. Yours?”

  “Not bad.” He took one of the daffodil bunches from the carrier bag in his hand and held out the flowers. “These are for you.”

  He counted to ten before she actually faced him. Ice glittered in her eyes.

  “Me or the window?” Even her tone could cut glass.

  “You. This other bunch is for the window.” He set them on the table along with the chocolates. “Dinner smells good.”

  “I didn’t cook for you,” she said, turning back to the TV. “You haven’t eaten anything I cooked for the past week, so I wasn’t going to waste energy doing it tonight.”

  David just stood there. “OK…ummm fine. I’ll get something out of the freezer.”

  He took the second bunch of flowers to the vase on the window and shoved them into it. He closed the curtains over them.

  Heading to the kitchen, David dumped the carrier bag on the counter and opened the freezer. The second drawer was full of plates, each containing a labeled dinner. He picked one at random and shoved it into the microwave to defrost and reheat. He really had been jolly inconsiderate.

  He shut the door just as Eden came in. “So why was your day naff?” he asked, hoping she’d be a little more forthcoming now.

  Eden dumped her plate heavily in the sink. “Well, first I get threatened in the park. Then I get threatened again in the coffee shop for daring to talk to a friend. Then I get home and get served with a solicitor’s letter.” She picked up a letter from the side and waved it in his face.

  David’s stomach turned. “Oh.”

  Anger creased her face. “Oh? Oh? Is that all you have to say?” Her voice rose. “If you really want Marc to yourself, you have got a fight on your hands. Hanna wanted me to look after him.” She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

  David stood there for a moment, his good mood evaporating. He charged after her. “Eden, wait.”

  Eden spun around as she reached the bottom of the stairs. “What?”

  David closed the gap between them. “I’m sorry about this morning. I was not threatening you. It’s just work, you know? I don’t like being followed and if other papers—the tabloids for example, got ahold of what I’m working on…”

  Eden scowled. “Like I’m going to tell them? Oh, pl-ease. And FYI I was not following you. I have better things to do with my time, than traipse around town after you all day long.”

  “I’m sorry. And I’m sorry about the dinners. I found them all in the freezer. If you want to cook for me, then I’ll eat it.”

  “Assuming I’m still here,” she muttered, looking away.

  He turned her face back to his and stared intently into her eyes. He’d never appreciated what a gorgeous shade of blue they were before. “What do you mean, if you’re still here?”

  “I know Hanna wanted both of us here for Marc, but I think I should just move him and me to my parents’ place. I will fight you, you do know that.”

  “What?”

  “The solicitor’s letter, remember?”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yes, that. And are you sorry for that, too? Going to retract it?”

  Guilt poured through him like a waterfall. Lord, forgive me.

  Hanna had unwittingly made Marc a target the moment she’d moved into this house. He’d offered to buy her out; he’d offered to get her and Marc a place of their own, but she’d taken offence. If this thing went south, and suddenly they were coming for him, he needed to be able to take his nephew and run whether he was authorized to do so or not. And as much as he wanted Eden out of the way, she had to remain where he could see her now, too.

  He shook his head. “I can’t.”

  “Why?” Hurt mi
xed with her anger. “What have I done to make you hate me so? Did I do something when we were going out?”

  “I can’t talk about this,” he said. “And you are not moving out.”

  “I can’t let you get full custody of my nephew,” she whispered. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. “I’m going to bed.” She turned and walked the stairs.

  David closed his eyes as the microwave beeped in the kitchen to signal his dinner was ready. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Eden,” he whispered. “I simply have no choice. If I could change things, I would do so in a heartbeat.”

  ****

  Eden came downstairs with Marc on her hip to heat a feed for him. She sighed as she stared at the empty fridge. So much for David’s insistence that he’d do them. She slid Marc into his high chair and gave him some toys to play with. “You sit here for a second or two.”

  She opened the cupboard and pulled out the new tin she’d bought, thinking perhaps the ones in the cabinet might be getting too close to expiration. She knew it was silly but it was a small measure, perhaps a different batch would help his colic and it certainly wouldn’t hurt. She made the feeds, setting one in water to cool down.

  Marc’s cries increased, so she picked him up and offered him the bottle. He took it hungrily. The stronger strength formula combined with the anti-colic drops the pharmacist had recommended, meant maybe he’d go through the night. Eden sat at the table, leaving the open tin on the side. She’d tidy up later.

  David came in. “What’s going on?”

  “He needed a feed and there weren’t any, so I made some.” She glanced at him, seeing the glare he shot at the counter.

  “You used this one?” He picked up the tin, worry crossing his face.

  “Yeah. I bought it today. The others aren’t expired but, well, they go out next month. And I thought the stronger formula might be better for him now he’s older.”

  “And what’s this?” David waved the small box at her.

  “Anti-colic stuff the pharmacist recommended.”

  Marc began crying, pulling his legs up to his chest. Eden put the bottle down and sat the baby up, just as he threw up violently.

  David picked up the tin and sniffed it. Then he put the lid on. “He’s sick.”

  Eden shook her head, as she dealt with a puking baby. “It’s colic. It happens, you know that.”

  “I should take him to the ED.”

  She frowned. “Just because he threw up? That’s a little excessive.”

  “This label isn’t the same as the rest.”

  “It’s a different make, that’s all. It’s still formula.”

  David threw the tin of milk and the bottle she’d been feeding him into a bag, along with the anti-colic drops. “Please.” He snatched Marc off her. “You stay here. For good measure throw those feeds you just made away and re-sterilize the whole lot of bottles and use the old formula.”

  Confusion filled her. “David?”

  “Just do it.” He strode towards the door.

  “I’m coming with. He’s my nephew, too.”

  David put his hand on her arm, worry and fear in his eyes. “Please.”

  “I have custody,” she argued.

  “And I’ll bring him right back,” he replied as he ran out of the door.

  Eden stood motionless as the door slammed. “You better.”

  7

  David sat in the busy resus room in the ED department, Marc dozing in the cot beside him. The monitors the baby was connected to beeped rhythmically and normally. The staff had done what he’d asked, and run tests on Marc, the anti-colic drops and the baby milk. His ID did have its uses sometimes. He’d prayed constantly since Marc got sick and although the panic no longer ran rampant, his gut was still tied in knots.

  He’d always bought the formula since Marc had moved in—telling Hanna it was his way of helping out. He bought it by the case, ordered it from the supplier, had it delivered to Adam’s office and picked it up there. The men he had infiltrated were monsters. They would not hesitate to inject, switch, or tamper with items at the grocer. Thanks to her appearance at the park and his subsequent meltdown, Eden now was on their radar.

  He wished he could send her to her parents, or to the other end of the country, but how could he protect either of them then?

  Around him, the doctors and nurses worked on three people from a car accident. He and Marc seemed to have been forgotten in the ensuing chaos. David glanced at his watch. Almost eleven PM. Only three hours, but it seemed so much longer.

  The pediatric registrar came over to him, file in his hand. “Mr. Painter, we’ve got the test results back. They are negative for all substances. On the baby, milk, and tin of formula.”

  Relief engulfed David. “Thank you. So why was he so sick?”

  “Colic. It’s unusual for a baby still to have it at his age, but he should grow out of it in the next week or so.” He held out a tiny bottle. “Give him a drop of this before each feed—it’s stronger than what the pharmacist can give you. It’ll help.”

  David pocketed the bottle. “Thank you.”

  “I assume you’ve made all the arrangements for,” he checked the notes, “Jasper to go into care, because I can call social services if you need me to.”

  “It’s taken care of,” David said rapidly, thinking on his feet.

  The doctor nodded. “OK, well you’re good to go.”

  David stood and picked up Marc. “Thank you.” He put him gently into the car seat and headed out. That was too close he told himself. You need to be more careful.

  The lie tugged at his conscience. What he needed was to get out and get out ASAP. Look what this was doing to him and those he loved. His phone rang as he reached the car. “Painter.”

  “I need you to arrange dinner at your place tomorrow.” The harsh voice was the last thing he wanted to hear, never mind this.

  “That’s not a good idea. The cops are already suss and crawling all over me and mine. For all I know they’ve staked out the house and…”

  “This isn’t an option. Lose the kid and the nanny for a few hours. Joey, me, and Barney will be joining you around seven. You and I need to have words with Barney, and it’s best not done in a restaurant, if you get my drift.”

  David baulked at the thought. “And my house is the best place for this?”

  “Are you questioning me? Do I need to teach you a lesson in obedience?”

  “No. Seven tomorrow.” David hung up and leaned against the car. Lord, I know I don’t deserve any favors, but please, show me a way out. It’s time to call it. Give me the words and the means, before anyone else gets hurt.

  He took a deep breath. First thing tomorrow, he’d contact his boss at the office through the usual channels and talk to him. See if someone else could take his place. Before that, he had to go home and face Eden. And he’d eat humble pie because she’d been right.

  Eden was still awake when he got in, but then he’d expected nothing else. Worry was etched onto her face, and it was evident she’d been crying. Another reason to put this right and quickly. She rose as he entered the room. “Is Marc OK?” The words tumbled from her lips.

  “He’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” He set the car seat down. Marc slept oblivious to the chaos and distress around him.

  “Good.”

  He nodded, needing to tell her about the following day. “I’m having a dinner here tomorrow for some work colleagues, and I’ll need you to keep Marc out of the way. Either take him upstairs and keep him quiet or take him out for the evening or you leave for a while. Actually, thinking about it, I’d rather you two go out—”

  “Wait a minute.” Irritation flashed in her eyes. “You rush Marc out of here to the ED, you’re gone hours, and all I get is a ‘he’s fine’, before you start barking orders at me? And why should I have to hide all evening?”

  “Eden, please. We’re both tired. It’s been a long day. And if there was another way to do this, then don’t y
ou think I would?”

  “Sure there is. It’s called a restaurant. Or a take away. Give them fish and chips in the park or something, rather than expect me to cook.”

  “I never said anything about expecting you to cook.” David reached out. He pulled her close, holding her gaze. Her lips were inches from his, her eyes blazing rivers of fire. Desire flooded him, and it took every ounce of strength he possessed not to kiss her senseless. His throat constricted, and his pulse pounded in his ears. He wanted so much to rewind to a time when he had no secrets; to a time when it was just her and him and the love they shared.

  When work wasn’t the issue it was now.

  He leaned his forehead against hers, brushing his thumb over her lips. Her eyes closed and her lips parted. Her hands moved to his waist, making no effort to push him away, rather closing the tiny gap between them. She was so soft, unyielding in his arms, his for the taking.

  And he wanted…he wanted…

  I love you, Eden his mind screamed, his heart yearning to allow his words to echo, but to say it, to give in and do what he wanted to do, would be to place her in unimaginable danger.

  It would be the death of her, if not both of them.

  Somehow, he managed to pull away, before his emotions got the better of him. “You don’t need to cook,” he repeated. “I’ll get fish and chips on my way home or something. But please…” He cupped her face with his hand, still holding her gaze. “I need you and Marc out of the way until they’ve gone. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  She blinked, something flickering in her eyes, masking the desire. Did she want him, the way he wanted her? Would she have allowed him to kiss her? “It’s a little late for that,” she whispered. She looked down. “Is Marc really all right?”

  “Yes.” David forced his mind back to his nephew…their nephew. “I overreacted and should have listened to you. The doctor said its simple colic. He gave me something to help.”

  To give Eden her due, she didn’t give him the ‘I told you so’ that he deserved. “So long as Marc’s OK, it’s fine.”

  “No it isn’t. I should have trusted you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of meds the doctor had given him. “It’s stronger than anything from the pharmacist. He said to give him some of this before each feed, but thinks he’ll grow out of it in a couple weeks or so.”