Finding Mia

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Finding Mia Page 11

by Dianne J Wilson


  “I don’t even know where to start,” Isobel said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “That’s the thing about kids. Your life is no longer your own.”

  “Can’t argue with that.” But it was so worth it. Right? She sank onto the couch looking forward to some mellow conversation involving more than single syllable words.

  Swallowing the last mouthful from his glass, Roric put it down and got up to leave. “I need to go.”

  Isobel didn’t have the heart to argue.

  Roric leaned in close, lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her full on the lips, lingering for a breath too long.

  She wasn’t expecting it and it threw her.

  He pulled away just as quickly, turning to the door. He stopped at the open Bible on the bookshelf. It was still open on the light and darkness verse she’d found. She’d left it there on purpose, rereading it every time she walked by.

  “You’ve been reading fairy stories, I see.”

  Still reeling from being kissed, she struggled to get a word out. A full coherent sentence was not even an option.

  He slammed the cover closed. “Though I must admit there is a whole lot of truth hidden in these pages. Not the kind you’d expect to find though.” He laughed then, mocking—at once a comedian and an adoring audience rolled into one body.

  Bel fell silent; his jokes washed shame over her.

  His laughter cut short and the slightest headshake convinced her that she was beyond hope. Roric let himself out, leaving her floundering in the middle of the lounge wondering why life was so cruel.

  19

  Bel was early to drop Mia at Melindi’s. Her friend was distracted. More than that, unhappy.

  Bel stepped carefully to avoid bits of Lego. The normal happy clutter had doubled, bordering on flat-out chaos.

  Safely in the kitchen, Melindi spooned instant coffee into cups of steaming water, added sugar, milk, and forgot to stir.

  Bel pulled the cup towards her and fetched her own spoon from the drawer.

  Melindi wrinkled her nose apologetically. “Sorry. My mind is elsewhere.”

  Bel waved off her apology. “Are you sure you’re ready for this little handful today?”

  Melindi shrugged, but the frown remained settled between her brows. When she did speak, she sounded off. “Are you sure you want to leave Mia with me?”

  “Melindi, what’s up? Are you feeling sick?

  “It’s nothing, really. It seems that all the decisions I’ve made lately are the wrong ones.” She sipped coffee and put it down in disgust. “Give me that spoon.” She reached over and took it.

  “Something has happened. You can tell me.”

  “No, not at all. I’m just…” She trailed off, not finding the words to convey what was going on inside. She checked her watch. “You’d better get a move on. You are going to be late.”

  ****

  Liam hung around the stairwell feeling like a stalker. He’d watched from a distance as Isobel arrived. When she didn’t come down again he moved into position. Without thinking, he hitched his collar up, peering over the top of it, trying to blend in.

  A car door slammed in the parking lot and his nerve gave in. He turned tail to leave, but then turned back. Something had to change or he’d go loopy. He was trying to decide if he should leave, when three ladies came around the corner, nearly bumping into him.

  “Morning!” As wide as she was high, the short lady grinned sunshine at him from her round face, while her friend in grey frowned and hurried past, clutching her bag closer to her chest.

  Another lady with a mop of hair that stuck out like feathers on a duster was digging in her bag. She muttered something about again and walked straight into him, grinding his toes into the pavement. “Oh my! I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

  Liam gave his toes an experimental squeeze and winced. “I’ll live.” He plunged in before he could change his mind. “Are you ladies in Isobel’s class?”

  The foot squasher was still fretting over his foot and her open handbag, but the round lady answered for them all. “We are. What’s it to you?” She looked him up and down critically, as if trying to figure out which box he fitted into in her head.

  Liam turned down the collar on his jacket and ran nervous fingers through his hair. “Isobel is in danger, and I need your help.”

  The lady in grey stepped back out of the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  “Ladies, there is a coffee shop across the road from here. Meet me after your lesson.” He eyed one skeptical face after another and added, “Please?”

  The ladies left with no promises and he sat down on the bottom step as if all the strength had drained from his legs. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear the footsteps until they came to rest in front of him. He recognized the sneakers.

  “What are you doing here?” Isobel asked.

  “I just wanted to see how you are.”

  “I’m great. Never been happier. I need to get back to my class.”

  “Mia? How is she?”

  “Mia is fine. Liam, please.”

  “And the guy? Who is he? You need to be careful—”

  “Stop! I don’t want to hear it. I am over your paranoia. I can’t live there. I won’t.” She turned on her heel and ran back upstairs, leaving behind whatever it was she had come down to fetch.

  Liam ignored the writhing mass of toxic doubt that churned behind his ribs. Maybe it was all in his head, blown out of proportion because it had hit too close to home. God, maybe I should give up. I am doing no good. Just causing more heartache. My own heart is raw and bleeding. Who can see straight with a heart in that state?

  He heard the words, not with his ears, but reverberating in every fibre of his being. A fierce response of a love stronger than death…

  You cannot give up. I never give up on you.

  ****

  It was the darkest corner of the coffee shop. The shop itself favoured feminine clientele. A lady’s touch dripped from every blossomed curtain and each delicate tie-back. Soft violins filled the air with melancholy.

  Determined to keep his voice low, he’d squeezed in enough chairs around one tiny table for them all to sit close. He could only hope the finely carved chair under his rear would hold him up long enough to recruit some back up. All six of them were crammed in, elbow to elbow, hunched forward like conspirators on a mission.

  Introductions were over and Kez-Lyn was the first to speak. “Should I come sit on your lap, Mischa? It would be more comfortable than this.”

  Round Mischa was more red-in-the-face than usual. “Honestly, Kez? No. Just no.”

  “Sorry, ladies.” Liam wore the sheepish look that had rescued him from the brunt of many a teacher’s irritation back in the day.

  Savannah, being more comfortable in sweat than the others, was quick to pull their focus back. “We’re here because we love Bel. What’s up?”

  Liam squirmed, knowing how crazy this would sound. “I have no proof, but there is something going on in this town that has put Isobel and Mia in the path of terrible danger. She thinks I’m paranoid and won’t listen. I was hoping you could make her see sense.”

  “You‘ll need to tell us more than that, sunshine.” Jules spread her perfectly manicured hands, fingers beating rhythmic impatience on the table.

  Liam nodded. “Babies have been taken. The pattern is always the same—single mom, mom disappears, and the baby is supposedly taken into the welfare system. I think Mia was next in line to go, but Bel happened to be there to intercept the pickup and mess up the plan. Now, I think they are after her. Bel doesn’t see it; she doesn’t want to hear. I can understand completely—after all she’s been through. But I can’t do nothing and see this happen all over again.”

  Jules frowned. “What do you mean, again?”

  Maggie had sat quietly through the whole exchange, watching. She sat forward in her chair, regarding Liam with the intensity of a mom smelling smoke on her teenager. “Why does this matter so
much to you? You care for her, don’t you?”

  Jules wasn’t satisfied. “No, wait. Maggie, just give me a moment. You said again. I heard you. What do you mean?”

  “I’m a doctor. It’s my job to care for the people in this town. That’s all.” A muscle twitched in Liam’s jaw.

  Kez-lyn was shaking her head. “I don’t know ladies. If he can’t be honest with us, why should we trust him?”

  Mischa moved her chair back an inch. “I agree.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to get home.”

  Chairs scraped on the floor, singing a sour chorus of doom.

  Something snapped deep inside Liam. A tightly coiled grip on the past, on his emotions. He erupted. “What do you ladies want to hear me say? That I love Isobel?”

  Silence. No chairs. No movement.

  “I do.” A mere whisper, yet a shockwave of truth rippled through him.

  Maggie sat down. “So what can we do?”

  ****

  Mia had a plastic silver crown in a death grip. She would not budge.

  Isobel pulled her out the way and squashed herself against the neat rows of tinned baked beans to let a lady and her trolley rattle past. The shop was claustrophobically full.

  Mia held up the crown with eyes that sparkled.

  Isobel had no intention of buying the gaudy silver mess. She had spoken nicely, tried a bribe, now she was on the verge of outright begging. The crown was cheap enough: she could easily have bought it for Mia without affecting the budget. The issue here was control.

  Roric had warned her that this would be coming. Stick to your guns. Don’t give in. Show her who is boss.

  “Mia, put that down. We’re going.”

  “Want it. Peez, Mine?”

  “No. Not today. Come now.”

  “Peez, Mine?”

  To hear such a tiny person do her best at asking nicely was enough to melt Bel.

  But Roric’s warnings rang loud in her head. Establish your authority now, or you will have lost the battle. You’ll be twisted around her little finger forevermore.

  Torn between her instincts and his advice, Bel lost it.

  “No! Stop it now!”

  Mia’s eyes shot wide, filled with tears, and she threw the crown with such force, that it bounced.

  Bel grabbed her by the arm, left her full shopping trolley there in the aisle, and pulled her towards the exit.

  Mia lost her footing and fell on her knees, grazing them. Blood ran down her leg, staining her socks.

  Bel could feel the eyes of the shoppers on her. She wanted to run. Leave Mia and run.

  A purple-rinsed granny shuffled past in tweed and old lady shoes, offering a lavender scented tissue.

  Embarrassed beyond herself, Bel waved the tissue away, picked up Mia—which made her scream—and aimed herself at the nearest exit. By the time she got to the car, she was shaking with emotion.

  Mia was red in the face and still screaming.

  One thought stared Bel down like a bull to her red flag. As much as she’d longed for motherhood, it was time to get honest. I am not cut out for this.

  20

  Bel was on her second round of crumb wiping for the morning. A tiny crumb had missed her first sweep through the kitchen, and that was enough to necessitate a second wipe down.

  A drizzly grey day lurked outside the kitchen window, seeping gloom through the open curtains.

  Bel sighed. She missed the sun. She missed the sun outside her window and inside her head. Her heart.

  She told herself that life was good. Roric was systematically helping her to work through the emotional baggage and wrap it up in neat boxes. Far better than the chaos that she was used to when her feelings were left to run amok. Yet somehow, there was a strange disconnect happening that she couldn’t put her finger on. She had tried, but the closest she could come to explaining it was that she was happy in her head, but her heart had been left behind.

  Rochelle’s classes still took up her mornings, but it was all about the techniques now, no heart connection. She couldn’t afford to let the ladies come close. Not until she’d sorted out what was going on properly anyway. The evening classes were a thing of the past.

  Rochelle had tried to talk her into coming back, but Isobel had dodged the offer—using Harry as her justification for staying away.

  Life really was better like this. She had much more control.

  Mia was squealing at a seal with his whiskered face and soulful eyes when Bel became aware of being watched for the first time.

  The aquarium was crowded, even for a Saturday morning.

  Roric was with them and had a protective arm around Mia’s shoulder. She had never really taken to him, but the excitement of meeting a seal for the first time had overpowered her usual tortoise-like withdrawal.

  Bel turned toward a flash of movement out the corner of her eye. Whoever it was had moved in behind a ghost crab information board. All she could see were jean-clad legs ending in ostrich-leather boots next to a floral skirt and shoes straight from the sixties.

  I’m getting as paranoid as Liam was.

  They moved on to the jellyfish display. A thick, metre-wide column of glass stretched up toward the high ceiling. The jellyfish floated inside the see-through pillar, exquisite beadwork of living flesh, trailing long tentacles that drifted with the current. Glowing alien-like under the fluorescent lighting—the tiny creatures where breathtaking in their beauty.

  Bel shuddered as she thought of one of those tentacles wrapping around her. So beautiful, but so painful. Through the display, Bel caught sight of movement on the other side of the room. It was jeans and flowers again, backs toward her, staring deeply into the seahorse tank. Why they should stand out in a room bustling with bodies, Bel had no idea. Then she saw it. The furtive glance they sent her way, turning back quickly when they saw her looking.

  She squinted through the gloom, trying to see more.

  Mia ran around a corner to the manta ray display. Bel followed, casting a last glance at her spies before moving out of view. There was something familiar about the two of them.

  Roric took her hand. “Everything all right? You aren’t with us.”

  “Watch Mia for me, will you? I think I see someone I know.”

  “Sure.” Mia had found the clownfish further along, and he joined her while Bel stayed at the corner—jellyfish in sight.

  Sure enough, her two tails were peering around the display, looking worried. Not giving the jellyfish a second look, they hurried over to where Bel was hiding.

  She stepped out as they came around the corner. “What are you ladies doing here?”

  Savannah and Kez-Lyn jumped in shock.

  Kez recovered first. “It’s a lovely day for the aquarium, don’t you think?”

  Savannah was nodding, wide-eyed in agreement.

  “Without your kids? Ladies? What is going on?”

  Kez-Lyn was peering around. “Where is Mia?”

  “Mia is fine. Roric is watching her so that I could find out what on earth you two are up to. If I didn’t know better, I would say you were stalking me.” She stuck her hand on her hip and looked from one to the other.

  Neither of them paid any attention.

  “Come on. Let’s go find her.” Savannah sounded quietly panicked.

  Kez-Lyn nodded. “Yes! Good idea. I’ve missed her. Come on, Bel.”

  The two ducked past Isobel and headed toward the clownfish.

  She had to run to catch up.

  They found Mia with her face pressed up against a tank of prickly sea urchins.

  “Mine! Look!” Her chubby finger poked the glass, leaving tiny fingerprints. “Owey!”

  “Those would be sore, Mia. You are quite right. Roric, these ladies are from my art class.” She introduced them and cringed as Kez, dressed in her hippiest florals, eyed him up and down.

  Savannah was a shade more civil in her greeting, before turning all her attention to Mia. “Look at those spiky urchins, Mia. That one
is purple.”

  “Poople?” Mia tapped the glass and pressed her nose up so hard her teeth clinked on the cold surface.

  Roric moved her away with a frown. “Careful now.” He was smiling again, though, as he turned back to greet the ladies. Seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents, he greeted them by name as if etching their names into his memory.

  What was going on with these ladies?

  Over the next two weeks, her art class ladies gate-crashed her dates with Roric with tedious regularity. There was dinner at the Italian restaurant on First Street, an afternoon visit to the zoo, tea at the Wild Bird Park. Whenever she confronted them, they brushed her off, saying what a small world it was, especially in Scottburgh.

  Liam had backed off, much to her relief. The last time she had seen him was their argument outside the art studio. She told herself that it was better this way, but her heart sank when Mia went looking for him.

  She wandered through the house calling for her Lim. At those times, her decision haunted her.

  ****

  Liam wiped the perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand. He adjusted his headphones and whispered into the microphone, “All set, ladies? Testing.”

  Crackling, silence, then Jules answered, “Coming through loud and clear. We are in place, good to go.”

  They’d chosen her to wear the mic as it fit snugly behind the lapel of her denim jacket. She was also the most likely to remain calm under pressure.

  Liam peeped out the window of the makeshift surveillance vehicle that he’d thrown together. He’d borrowed a minivan with tinted windows from a musician patient of his and kitted it out with a radio transmitter and receiver. He’d parked across the street from Bel’s house and used the spare key to let the craft clubbers in. It was time for some serious intervention, but he knew that his presence would send Bel off in the opposite direction. So he’d briefed the ladies and bowed out gracefully.

  As for the ladies, the changes in Bel had them sick with worry, and they seemed more than ready to step in.

 

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