by Zrinka Jelic
“I … I can’t do this.” Olivia shook her head.
He pulled the seat closer, the chair’s legs scraping across the floor tile. “Honey, only the judge can change the court date. It’s been scheduled and confirmed for months.”
“Can’t you get someone to babysit?”Anxiety constricted her throat, changing her tone to a high-pitched shriek.
His eyebrows drew closer and he shrugged. “Who?”
Slouched over the table, she tapped her finger on the glass in her hand. Tom had said all his family moved to Croatia. Her mother was spending the winter someplace warm and sunny, and besides, if she was here she’d be useless. Olivia straightened.
“What about the young dad who was here last night?”
“Jason?” He scowled. “He has school all day and he better not skip a single class.”
She huffed, resenting Tom’s concern for a former neighborhood hoodlum. “You’re not his dad. Why do you care?”
Tom’s hard stare sent shivers rushing down her back. She must’ve said something he wouldn’t expect to hear from his wife.
“I do because his dad doesn’t. Jason’s father is a provider. It is easier to fork out money to get his son out of his hair than to deal with his problems. I’m under an oath to make sure the young man follows the court orders or he’ll lose his child.”
She took another sip of water. Caring was a new concept to her, something she’d have to warm up to. “I can relate to an absent parent. At least his father didn’t send him away to a boarding school, like me. I was never rebellious nor have I ever experimented with drugs.”
She had stayed invisible, always pushed to the back of the room. Until her body had bloomed, then men had flocked to her like pigeons to breadcrumbs. For the first time, she’d enjoyed being the center of attention and the envy of all the girls in her school.
“There’s no one but you.” Tom wrapped his fingers around her wrist and yanked her back into the present. “I’ll put Milo on the school bus in the morning and prepare Rosie’s bottles with formula and her pureed food. All you’ll have to do is pop them in the microwave for a few seconds.”
“Milo’s in school all day?” A hint of relief loosened the knot in her stomach, but a strange sense of loss spread through her. She would miss the little boy and his incessant chatting, but she was sure baby would occupy her time.
“Until four in the afternoon. His school bus stops by the mailbox. You’ll have to be there or the driver won’t let him leave. Should you run late, the bus loops around the neighborhood and passes by our house again about ten minutes later. It’ll stop on the other side of the street.”
Olivia contemplated. Could she take this on? She must. Something deep inside nagged her to be a perfect mom and accept Tom’s children. Tomorrow would be her ultimate test. After all she’d agreed to play his wife. “Got it, four o’clock.”
His chest expanded with a rush of air. Had he been afraid to breathe before she agreed? “I’ll set the alarm for four o’clock. The loud and annoying one in Rosie’s room we never use. There’s no way you won’t hear it,” he offered.
Her thoughts wandered to the spare room Tom called a nursery. She had not ventured there yet, but in her previous life, she stored old stuff there. Another thought occurred and she winced. “What about changing Rosie’s nappy things?”
He rewarded her with another of his mocking stares, coaxing a tight-lipped smile from her. “Honey, you taught me how to do it, so I’m sure it will come back to you.”
If luck were with her, changing time wouldn’t come. Get real. Babies use nappies instead of the toilet. “You’re still mistaking me for your wife.”
His exasperated exhale cut through tense silence. Though he remained quiet, the deep crease on his forehead indicated her apparent memory loss still concerned him. The thought of being his wife forever no longer surprised her, but she couldn’t and mustn’t start believing in a delusion that could disappear into a thin air at any moment.
“Rosie sleeps until ten in the morning,” Tom continued, ignoring her previous remark. “When she gets hungry, she’ll chew on things. The times on her schedule are guidelines. She can have her lunch earlier or later, same with her nap. Watch for her signs. If she’s tired she’ll rub her eyes and turn cranky. Put her in her crib, she’ll coo to her dollies. If she fusses, let her cry. That’s how she settles down.”
Tom secured the list to the fridge with magnets. Then he turned to her and pointed at a highlight on the paper. “If in doubt, refer to this list. She also loves Baby Einstein DVDs. Don’t forget to pick up Milo. If there’s no one waiting, the driver will take him back to school.”
“I won’t forget. The mailbox is right across the street.” Her voice rose in annoyance. She performed complex tasks every day at work without being told twice, and getting a child from the bus stop wasn’t rocket science.
“Not that one, the second mailbox down the street. Our neighbor Roy will be there getting his mail. So you’ll know you’re at the right place.”
Puzzled for a moment, she picked up her now cold coffee mug, brought the rim to her lips, and set it back down. “How do you know he’ll be there?”
“He’ll be there, alright.” Tom placed his hand over his heart as if giving his pledge to the Queen of England and deepened his voice. “It’s his duty to rescue neglected, frustrated moms from the clutches of rotten marriages.”
“He sounds just like that.” Olivia’s frown soon dissolved into chuckles. “I see Roy’s act hasn’t changed.” And to think she’d found him attractive just because he resembled Johnny Depp. Tom must never find out about her crush on Roy. Now it seemed her infatuation was only due to Roy’s indifference.
“You’ll be fine tomorrow. It’ll be easy-peasy.” Tom cupped her face in his hands and brushed his lips over hers, his warm breath soft and assuring. The small gesture sent tremors to her knees.
His remark coaxed another chuckle. She wouldn’t expect a lawyer to use such childish slang. “Easy-peasy?”
“I learned that one from Milo.” Embracing her, he pulled her to his chest. She melted into him, inhaling his scent, reveling in every second. A danger she must not allow to happen. For all she knew he could disappear from her life any moment, the same way he’d appeared, and she’d be left alone.
“I’ll call you as soon as the court is out for recess. Once the trial starts, you can text me, but I won’t be able to reply right away.”
“I’ll be fine,” she mumbled, but her words and his encouragement still failed to convince her. For the first time, it occurred to her she might fall in love with this sexy, fatherly man, only to lose him when the universe whisked her back to her real life. The idea of losing him without even saying goodbye — it made her intestines coil like cold snakes.
• • •
As every morning since her small family had appeared, Olivia awakened to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Only today Tom brought the cup to her bed. She smiled and sat up against the cushions.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He handed her the beverage and leaned closer to place a kiss on her lips.
A chuckle escaped her. Beautiful? First thing in the morning? Her hair alone must resemble a bird’s nest. She set the mug on the night stand and ran fingers through the tangles.
Tom pulled a light blue shirt from his wardrobe then turned to her, holding a necktie against the fabric. “Do these go together?”
The blue letters on the face of the tie made her sit on her haunches and reach out. “What a work of art. What kind of writing is this?”
“Glagolitic.” Tom scrambled into his shirt sleeves. A desire to fasten his buttons swept through her and she couldn’t stop her fingers. His hands dropped to his sides and he whispered against her ear. “The alphabet was invented in eight hundred sixty-five AD and used in writing Old Church Slavic languages. Later it was replaced by Cyrillic.”
God, the man could give an entire lecture on any topic and she’d never tire of li
stening to his sexy voice. She met his intense gaze, pursed her lips while her fingers tinkered with his bottom button. “Fascinating. Tell me more.”
“À la manière des Croates.” He cupped her buttocks and pulled her closer. Their lips met in a frantic kiss. Olivia’s pulse quickened. He leaned over her and she collapsed on the bed, his body covering hers.
“Ah, yes, Tom, show me the Croatian way,” she whimpered, spreading her legs wide and stretching her arms over her head. He let out a deep grunt and trailed his tongue down her neck, raising goose bumps on her skin. At the sound of the door slamming, he halted and propped himself on his elbows.
He panted for a short moment and to her dismay, stood up. “Milo could come in any moment. But to continue, I was referring to the way Croatian hussars tied scarves, called cravats, around their neck during the European Thirty Years War. It appealed to the French and King Louis XIV. They adopted it into their fashion, hence the tie.”
Blowing out a breath of frustration, she punched the mattress. The bedding rustled as she got up. In two steps she closed the distance to the full length mirror where he worked the knot on his tie. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her front to his back. “I loved the history tidbit, but after you put Milo on the bus maybe you can demonstrate untying it and removing your shirt, pants — ”
“Honey, I have to go.” He turned and tapped the tip of her nose. “And there’s something you’re forgetting.”
She shrugged, shaking her head. Must he remind her again? “I’m looking after the kids.”
“No. There’s something we say to one another before we make love.” He pressed another quick kiss to her lips.
The door to the bedroom popped open. Their moment was gone.
“I’m dressed.” The boy grinned.
Tom chuckled, crouched in front of his son. “Your pants are undone — wouldn’t want to lose them, would you?”
Some unexplainable urge forced her to do up Milo’s pants. She reached out to him, but Tom’s stern voice stopped her.
“He must be able to do up his pants in school without anyone’s help.”
She stepped back. Tom was strict with his boy, but she supposed by doing everything for the child, never allowing him to make mistakes and learn, Milo would not be prepared for the world out there. At least that had been Mom’s excuse for not helping her with anything.
“Oh.” Milo flashed a row of small teeth in a shy smile, snapped the rivet and pulled up the zipper.
She gazed into the boy’s proud eyes and clapped her hands. “Good work, Milo.”
“Better.” Tom placed his hand on the small boy’s shoulder. “Let’s get you into your snow suit and boots.”
“Are you coming, Mommy?” Milo’s sweet innocence squeezed Olivia’s chest. The boy never doubted she was his mom. He’d accepted her from the beginning.
“I’ll be down in a moment, love.” Surprised at her endearment, she scurried to the bathroom. After running a comb through her hair, she changed into a pair of black stretch pants with a silver trim and a matching top and hurried to the foyer.
Bundled up in his black bomber, Tom helped the boy hoist his school bag on his back. Next, he tugged on the thick sleeves of Milo’s red snow jacket bunched up under the ruck’s straps. “Okay, say goodbye to mommy or you’ll miss your bus.”
“Bye, Mom.” Milo blew her a kiss with his mitten-covered hand.
She pretended to catch his kiss in her hand and pressed her palm over her heart then repeated Milo’s gesture. Tom opened the front door, allowing the frigid air to slide inside and wrap around her bare ankles. She shivered and squinted against the sun reflecting off the fresh snow. Too bad the footprints and tire tracks already spoiled the powder.
“I’ll head out to my office to get some papers then meet my client at the courthouse. Wish me luck and I know you won’t need it. You’re a natural.” But the melody of Tom’s voice brought different memories tumbling. Images of his hard body pinning her to the mattress, the passion of his kisses, the need in his groans, rocked her core in deep trembles. She must find the magic word to Tom’s passion.
First there was one small matter pressing on her mind. After he closed the door, Olivia grabbed the phone and dialed her work number. A recording of an unknown female voice said, “You’ve reached the extension two-five-four at Human Resources Department. I’m away from my desk, but … ”
The monotonous voice continued as Olivia slid the phone away from her ear. Someone had replaced her. She punched in the extension for Jess. Her assistant answered on the first ring. “Jess Adams.”
“Jess,” Olivia hissed. The ringing phones and faxes and hushed voices in the background increased her sense of guilt. She missed her work. “The woman replacing me, what she’s like? Good, bad, fabulous?”
“Olivia, you have to stop.” Jess’s whispered tone indicated Mr. Hiltorn was within hearing distance. “He can’t fire you no matter how good the replacement. She’s only so-so if you ask me. Got to go.”
The phone line went dead. Olivia slumped into a chair. Perhaps a good workout would help her lose some of the stress. Both hands on the clock face above the door pointed at nine. Rosie would be up any minute. A book on child rearing lay on the table. She flipped straight to the page marked with a neon sticky note.
“Diapering technique?” She smiled at the absurdity. “There’s a technique to it?”
The descriptions under the illustrations were of little help. This was a hands-on kind of task, not something one could learn by reading about it. She closed the book and glanced at the clock again. Twenty past nine. When would Rosie wake? On cue, cooing came through the baby monitor on the kitchen counter. Olivia’s stomach tightened, but she climbed the stairs to the nursery. The baby raised her head and flashed a toothless grin, drool dripping down her chin.
Her first tooth must be cutting through. Olivia gripped the crib’s rails, trying to figure out how she knew about baby teeth. Could it be her long-dormant maternal instincts? Since when had she had any? The unbearable urge to embrace the child overwhelmed her. She slid trembling hands under Rosie’s shoulders, copying what she’d seen Tom do.
“Come to Mommy.” She raised Rosie half way off the mattress before lowering her again. What was she doing? She could be squeezing all air out of her little lungs. No, no she couldn’t pick her up. But she must. This was her baby. Why shouldn’t she cradle Rosie in her arms?
“Let’s try this again.” Her hands steadied and she scooped up the infant. Olivia inhaled her daughter’s sweet scent, a mixture of powder and milk, and finally understood what women meant by the “baby trap.” Yes, she was ensnared, roped and reeled in.
The doorbell rang. She frowned. Who’d come to her house on the working day? Some unwanted solicitor? With Rosie cradled in her arms, she descended the stairs to the foyer. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open at the sight of who stood before her.
“Olivia,” Susan stepped in, the aroma of fresh brew wafting from two extra-large paper cups on a cardboard tray. “Wow, Gregory was right. Your stunned face says it all. I hope you have something strong to put in this coffee. You’ll need it.”
Olivia closed the door. Stunned didn’t begin to describe the anxious worry churning in her gut. “Should Dr. Mason be disclosing information about his patients?”
“Please. We’re friends.” Susan waved her gloved hand and set the tray on the corner table. She removed her long coat, the flowery scent of her perfume filling the foyer. “My husband didn’t stand a chance. All I had to do was give him one of my truth extracting stares and he sang like a canary.”
A smile she couldn’t hide hovered on Olivia’s lips. “Since when did you acquire one of those stares?”
“Two teenage boys and lots of practice. You’ll get one, too. Takes time.” Hands clapping, she approached Olivia. “I’ll take my girl from you. And you carry the coffee to the living room.” She wiggled her fingers at Rosie. “Come see your auntie.”
“You’re right. I could use something strong, but it’s too early.” Placing the tray on the glass top, Olivia pointed to the settee across from the coffee table. The leather hissed as Susan took her seat.
Olivia scurried to the kitchen and pulled out soy milk from the fridge. Returning to the living room, she shook the carton. “I’m afraid I don’t have any coffee cream.”
Susan glanced over baby’s head. “Just black for me. I gave up cream and sugar years ago.”
Olivia sat facing Susan. “It’s hard to believe you’re a mom of two teenage boys and a wife to a neurologist.”
Susan settled Rosie on her lap and flashed Olivia a sympathetic smile. “It’s hard to understand why you don’t remember any of the past six years.”
“It’s impossible for me to explain and you’d think I’m insane. Believe me, sometimes I feel like I am.” Olivia poured a hefty amount of milk into her coffee. Avoiding eye contact with Susan, she stirred then tapped thin stick against her paper cup.
Her friend smiled at Rosie’s careful inspection of her wristwatch. “I’m at loss for words, but why dwell on something neither of us can explain? Let’s get this girl dressed. I hope she’s big enough to wear the adorable Hello Kitty outfit I couldn’t resist buying.”
“You’re right. Let’s go upstairs to the nursery.” Olivia stood and gripped the back of the chair to steady her wobbling knees. Afraid to bring the subject up, she drew in a sharp breath. “Susan, I … ” Olivia licked her lips, trying to dislodge the words jammed in her throat. “My intentions weren’t to hurt you when you got back to the dorm.”
“Shhhh, why are you bringing it up? We said we wouldn’t.” Wrapping her arm around Rosie, Susan stood and pressed the baby to her chest. She followed Olivia to the foot of the stairs. “But since you brought it up, I admit I was hurt even though I knew you didn’t sleep around. The girls who named you ‘boyfriend snatcher’ were so wrong.”
