"It's entirely up to you, but Leo's easy to be around. He's not hooked into the popular concepts of possible and impossible, that's for sure."
She shook her head.
"Look, Paige, you know it's our big Christmas bash at the hospital this Friday, you can't miss that, so why not let me pick you up, we'll stay an hour or so, and then we'll meet Leo afterward for dinner or something?"
Paige shook her head again. "I don't have a sitter for Alex."
"So bring him along. It's a family thing anyhow, you remember how these Christmas parties go, they're a zoo. All the nurses keep asking about you, especially Annette. And there'll be lots of other kids there. There'll be Santa Claus, you don't want to deprive Alex of meeting Santa, do you?"
Paige was tempted. She'd tried to ignore the shop windows, the decorated streets, the music on the radio. She was finding this Christmas season torturously lonely.
Memories of the previous year kept surfacing, the party she'd had for all her friends, the memory of Myles proposing. Dennis had been at her house that day, and Armand too, and no one had thought that joy filled night that the two men would be dead within a few short months.
That was the trouble with Battleford. Life was so unpredictable back then, so many unforeseen things happened, tragic things, that no one had any control over.
But good things happened as well, she reminded herself.
There was Myles and the love they'd shared. He was always just at the edge of her consciousness, combined with the nostalgic ache that accompanied her memories.
What the heck. She needed to get out; she spent too much time alone with Alex, too much time thinking and worrying.
"All right, Sam. We'll be ready about three."
Her sudden acceptance left him looking both amazed and delighted. "Paige, my love, I do believe this is the first time we've ever had a formal date."
She winked at him. "You've forgotten Alex's birth. And this is a group date, don't forget. There's three of us. Four, counting your cousin."
He nodded and assumed a doleful expression. "Beggars can't be choosers, as my sainted mother used to say. I'll take whatever I can get."
Paige smiled at his nonsense, but she also noted the wistful expression in his eyes when he looked at Alex. She knew Sam was more than half in love with her, and it made her sad.
Why did life have to be so damned complicated? Everything would have been so easy if she could have only fallen in love with Sam instead of Myles.
But she hadn't, had she?
And Myles was waiting, somewhere out there.
Sometime.
Now and Then: Chapter Twenty-Four
The party was fun.
Just as Sam had predicted, the hospital staff all made a huge fuss over Alex, and Paige found herself relaxing, laughing at the inevitable hospital jokes, even enjoying the glass of wine Sam brought her.
By the time they left for the restaurant, Paige had even stopped being nervous about meeting Sam's cousin.
"Paige Randolph—sorry, Paige Baldwin, my cousin, Leo Clauson." Sam introduced them, and Leo reached out and took her hand, holding it in his own large grasp for a long moment.
Leo was younger than Paige had imagined, and also better looking, in an Abe Lincoln-esque sort of way. For some obscure reason, she'd thought he'd resemble a much older version of Sam, short and bald and comfortably plump, but Leo was very tall and angular, with thick, long brown hair that drooped attractively on his neck. He wore an expensive looking gray suit and a conservative blue striped tie—with bright blue joggers on decidedly large bare feet, as if he'd become absentminded and forgotten about shoes and socks.
He had nice eyes, soft and brown and expressive, and just as Sam had promised, he was easy to talk to.
He studied Alex, who was in his baby carrier and getting squirmy and desperate because he was going to need to be fed very soon. Alex took his mealtimes seriously.
"I've never been around babies very much," Leo remarked. "How do you ever know what they need?"
Paige laughed, because it was a problem she'd never really considered until she had a baby of her own. "Mostly you guess," she said. "Before I had Alex, I thought I knew everything there was to know about babies. Now I realize how little I knew."
They ordered, and while they waited for the food Paige took Alex into the ladies' room and nursed him. When she returned to the table, Leo asked if he could hold him, and she placed the groggy baby in his arms.
From the beginning, Alex had put so much violent energy into eating, he was exhausted and panting by the time each feeding was done. Happy now that he was full, he gave Leo a goofy, cross-eyed grin and instantly fell asleep.
"Hard to believe we all start this way," Leo commented in a wondering tone, cradling the baby, endearingly awkward and careful with him. "His hands and feet have never been used, have they?"
Paige and Sam laughed, but it was obvious that Leo was quite serious.
When the food came, Paige settled the limp baby back in the carrier.
Leo smiled at her. "Thanks for letting me hold him. It must have taken a great deal of courage for you to come back here and have him. I'd love to hear what it felt like, traveling through time."
Leo's total acceptance of her experience wiped away any lingering hesitations Paige might have had, and for the rest of the meal, she talked freely about Battleford and her experiences there.
"It's astonishing, talking to someone who actually met Louis Riel," Leo marveled. "That's the very reason time travel fascinates and obsesses me, because it would give us firsthand knowledge of historical people and events."
"Do you know of any books about Riel and the rebellion?" Paige had planned to search some out in a library, but she hadn't done so yet.
"I'll bring you some of the best from the university library," Leo promised.
For the rest of the meal, Leo entertained her with absurd stories of mad scientists and their exploits at the university.
Sam was unusually quiet, and his mood lasted as he drove her home. He brought Alex's baby carrier into her apartment and set him on the couch.
"Would you like coffee, Sam?"
He shook his head. "I can't stay, I've got to drop by the hospital. One of my patients was admitted this afternoon and I want to check on her before I head home."
Paige kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks so much for everything; I had a wonderful time. It was a great evening, and I enjoyed meeting Leo."
"It was great, until I realized that damned cousin of mine was falling in love with you over the pasta. Then I wanted to stab him in the aorta with a fork."
Paige laughed. "You're nuts, you know that?"
He grinned his old familiar grin. "You're right, I am. First I talk you into meeting old Leo, and then I turn green when you like him. Go figure." He turned to the door. "I'll call you soon."
The following day was Christmas Eve, and Paige decided there was no point ignoring the season. She went out and bought a small tree and hung a stocking for Alex.
Tony phoned in the afternoon, and Paige tried and failed to break through the barrier that had somehow come between them. She'd sent gifts for Jason and Matthew, electronic games that she knew her nephews coveted, and Sharon had dutifully airmailed a box containing a giant size fuzzy rabbit for Alex.
Tony thanked her for the gifts, asked dutifully about Alex, whom he'd never seen, and turned the phone over to the boys as if he couldn't wait to end the conversation.
Paige had barely hung up, feeling as though she was about to bawl for the rest of the day, when the phone rang again.
She snatched it up, certain that Tony had had second thoughts.
"Hi, Tone, I'm so glad you called back." Her voice was still choked with tears, and her relief was evident in her voice.
There was a small silence, and then a man's voice said, "Paige, it's Leo Clauson here. I hope this isn't a bad time to call?"
It took her several seconds to regain some composure and answer him.
They exchanged polite greetings and then he said, "I wondered, I mean, tell me if this is an imposition, but I—well, I wondered if you and Alex might like to have dinner with me tonight. I have those books I promised you, and I don't know if I mentioned that I live alone…"
His voice went on and on, betraying his nervousness. "I'm divorced, years ago. The only time it bothers me is holidays, and I know it's Christmas Eve, you've probably got a house full of friends and relatives, it's stupid of me to even ask, it was just an impulse—"
"I don't." She interrupted his monologue, thinking that if she didn't he could possibly go on all afternoon. "I don't have anybody here, I mean." She took a moment to think about his invitation and remembered what Sam had said about his cousin falling for her. She'd have to make her situation very clear, she decided.
"Leo, I'd like to spend the evening with you, but I don't want you to misunderstand me. I'm very much in love with my husband, and I plan to return to him as soon as I can."
Did she plan that? God help her, she wasn't sure, but she didn't want to mislead Leo.
"Of course." She could hear the embarrassment in his voice. "I knew that by the way you spoke of him the other night. I thought we could simply be friends. Would that be all right, Paige?"
"Sure. I'd like that." God knew she could use friends; she hadn't realized until she was back how few friends she really had here, or how many she'd left behind in Battleford. There were times when she ached to talk to Clara or Tahny.
"I can bring dinner over, or take you and Alex out, whatever is best for you."
He brought dinner, and she was astonished. He'd ordered a ready-cooked, full course, gourmet meal for them from one of the most expensive restaurants in Vancouver. He also brought white wine, chocolates, mandarin oranges, a huge bouquet of hothouse spring flowers, a tape by a Western singer named Clint Black, and a set of beginner's cloth books for Alex, as well as a bag full of library books for her that dealt with Riel and the 1880s.
"Leo, this is far too much," she protested, her arms full of packages.
"I was afraid maybe it was, but I didn't know for sure," he admitted with an innocent candor that touched her. "Figure out what you don't want and I'll take it back."
"It's not that I don't want it, Leo, it's just—look, at least let me pay for half the dinner, okay?"
He looked horrified. "Absolutely not. I invited you."
She gave in.
They ate and talked and laughed, and after dinner he put Clint Black on her tape player and sang in an off-key baritone, which totally delighted Alex, so Leo took him in his arms and sang, and the baby stared into Leo's face for a moment and then laughed out loud.
"The child has excellent taste in music," Leo pronounced.
When Alex fell asleep she asked Leo about his work, about the machine he and his fellow scientist were working on.
"We used our own money at first, but of course it's a very expensive venture, and considered risky. Last year, we attracted the attention of a wealthy entrepreneur, and he's financed the project, which speeded up our research. We hope to have a working model by 2020. Einstein, of course, laid down the basic equations for the concept of time travel; we simply progressed from his foundations." Brown eyes glowing, he lapsed into technical details that Paige couldn't begin to decipher. He seemed to love talking about it, so she listened and nodded and allowed her thoughts to wander back to Battleford.
Later, Leo asked again to hold Alex, and he sat cradling the baby for a good half hour, frowning down at him as though he were another complicated equation that needed deciphering.
"You never had children?" Paige was curious. It was obvious Leo was fascinated by babies.
"Alice couldn't have any. We applied for adoption, but then our marriage fell apart. It was pretty much my fault. I have a tendency to forget about time and work around the clock when I find something that interests me. And our interests were different. Alice enjoyed parties and the symphony. I'm more inclined toward long walks and books and Clint Black."
"How long have you been divorced?"
"Ten years now." He caught the look of surprise on her face and smiled at her. "I'm forty-six. After Alice left, I decided I wasn't very good marriage material, so I never really tried again."
He looked down at Alex, cooing and smiling up at him. "I rather regret that at times."
"Heavens, Leo, you're still young, there's plenty of time to meet someone and have kids. I felt much the same as you before I met Myles."
He smiled at her again, a quizzical smile. "But you have to admit that was an unusual occurrence."
"Yes, it was." The ache that was never really gone from her heart came back with wrenching intensity, and she wondered what she was doing, sitting here watching one man hold her son when her heart and soul longed for another.
Alex began to fuss anxiously and devour his fist, and Leo handed him over. "Why don't I go and clean up in the kitchen while he has his supper," he suggested tactfully.
Paige took the baby into the bedroom, opened her blouse, and put him to her breast. In his usual frenzy, Alex snorted and batted at her with his tiny fists, gulping in great mouthfuls of milk, choking and crying and coughing before he could relax enough to nurse comfortably. He attacked each feeding as if he were starving to death, and then halfway through he'd stop for an instant and give Paige a wide, grateful grin, like an abashed apology, before he began gobbling again.
"Piglet." Paige laughed at her funny, frantic child, and then her eyes filled with tears.
She wanted so badly to share all the funny, intimate details about Alex with Myles. At first, when Alex was new, she'd talked to Myles as if he were nearby and somehow could hear and laugh with her at their son's idiosyncrasies.
But as time passed, her husband and his world seemed to draw further and further away, and with increasing regularity she couldn't find him to talk to anymore.
In February when Alex was five months old, he'd grown two teeth. He knew how to roll from his back to his stomach, and he had a plastic set of keys he adored. He was good-natured about everything except his meals, and he resembled Myles more than ever.
The only obvious part of Paige he'd inherited was her hair. Alex's sooty curls were as wild and unmanageable as her own, but the shape of his skull, the color and shape of his eyes, the curve of his chin, the way his ears lay flat against his head—all of these were miniature replicas of his father.
Nathan Fielding called one day and asked Paige to come work with him at the drop-in clinic he'd established in the heart of downtown Vancouver.
She was beginning to worry a little about money, and after some deliberating about hours, and a great deal of agonizing about leaving Alex at the nursery next door to the clinic, she agreed to take the job.
She'd had money in her account when she disappeared, but when she got back much of it had gone to pay the storage expenses on her furniture and to set herself up again in another apartment. There'd been the expenses of the baby, and she'd also bought a car—Sharon hadn't offered to return her Sunbird, and Paige had decided against asking. It seemed too shoddy, somehow, nagging her sister-in-law for her car.
The gold coins Myles had given her were still untouched, sitting in a safety deposit box at her bank. She couldn't bring herself to use them. She thought of them as Alex's only legacy from his father.
Leo Clauson had become a good friend. He'd fallen into the habit of dropping by once or twice a week. He always brought dinner, and he was endlessly fascinated by Alex.
After her first week at the clinic, Leo came by on Friday night with cardboard containers of Chinese food. "So how did it go?" He'd learned where she kept everything in the kitchen, and he set out plates and forks and wine glasses while she settled Alex in his jumper.
"The clinic's in a low income area; a lot of the patients are immigrants. I've treated severe burns, six cases of intestinal flu, three women with venereal infection, done countless prenatal workups. There was
also a woman who's HIV positive and pregnant, and two other pregnant women who are drug addicts."
"Sounds like an ambitious first week." Leo looked over at Alex, squealing and leaping up and down like a jackrabbit in his jumper. "Were you satisfied with the nursery?"
"Absolutely. It's right next door. Whenever there's a break I can pop over and visit him. And feed him, of course."
"To his immense relief."
They laughed together. By now, Leo had often witnessed Alex's frenzy at mealtimes.
"It was the strangest feeling, treating those women and children," Paige mused. "I have moments when I feel as though I'm back in my clinic in Battleford."
Leo raised a quizzical eyebrow.
"Oh, the physical problems then were different," she explained. "No AIDS, no drug addicts, but the emotions were exactly the same. And back then I used to curse at the lack of available treatments."
Leo indicated he was listening.
"Well, damned if it isn't exactly the same now. Y'know, Leo, there's a whole new crop of diseases we still don't have any magic drugs for. Some I can help, some I can't, just like it was back then. It's the damnedest thing."
She wished so much she could tell Myles. How often had she raged because his time didn't have the miracles hers did? Had she ever told him about AIDS, about drug addiction? She couldn't remember.
"The more things change, the more they stay the same," Leo said, spooning stir-fried vegetables on her plate.
Alex was six months old in March. He could move himself around the floor now, pulling himself from one fascinating object to the next. He had six teeth, and a whole vocabulary of sounds. He was impossible to diaper. He couldn't stand to be still for an instant. He could sit up on his own, and he'd learned how to play pat a cake.
He had Myles's bone structure, and would probably be a tall man. His huge gray-green eyes were fringed with indecently long, curling lashes. Strangers smiled at him on the street, unable to resist his wide grin. His passion for food had never changed; the only time he howled in misery was when there was a slight delay with his meal.
Now and Forever: Time Travel Romance Superbundle Page 36
