by Rula Sinara
“Anna, I know it’s not my business exactly—”
“Mom, can you pull the dessert out of the fridge, please? Let’s get it on the table.”
“In a minute, Zoe,” Mrs. Harper said. She turned to Anna.
“Mom, not now,” Jack’s sister said. Bless you, Zoe. Anna knew what was coming. The inevitable.
“No, I have to say my piece. She’s only here a week,” Mrs. Harper insisted.
The mix of fatigue, adrenaline, nerves, food and now questions were starting to do a number on Anna’s stomach. Hello, lasagna.
“Like I said, Anna, I respect privacy, but I’m a mother, and I know you can appreciate how protective we can be. We care about you, too, Anna. Don’t think we don’t remember how kind and special you were to Jack growing up. You have a good heart. I’ve seen it. I’ve also seen how special the two of you were to each other. So I don’t understand any of this. I don’t understand why you disappeared on him. Why you shut him out. You must know how deep that type of pain goes with him.”
That was it. Anna felt her face go hot and the rim of her eyes burn with moisture. Zoe closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Mom.” Jack’s voice startled Anna. “I hate to interrupt, but we have to get going. If wooden blocks going airborne are a sign, I think Pippa and Chad are getting tired,” he said. His timing was almost too perfect. Had he been listening in from the living room?
Anna grabbed for his lifeline. “Yes, airborne blocks are a definite sign. Thank you so much for dinner, Zoe,” she said. “It was so nice to see all of you.”
Jack’s mom had the decency to blush and give Anna a hug. Zoe rushed up and hugged both Anna and her brother. Anna didn’t miss the knowing look that passed between them. A big sister buffer.
“Let me pack some cheesecake for you to take with you,” Zoe said.
She had the dessert in a plastic container within moments and ushered them out of the kitchen. Many hugs later, Jack, Anna and Pippa were in the car.
Anna turned her face toward the passenger window and closed her eyes.
“You okay?” Jack asked.
She didn’t answer. No, she wasn’t okay. Far from it. But letting Jack think she’d fallen asleep was easier than facing the facts. Jack had a family and a support system. Anna was the bad guy who’d hurt one of their own. And as far as they were concerned, Pippa was family. Anna was nothing but incidental to them.
Just as she and her mom had been to her dad.
CHAPTER NINE
NO MATTER HOW MUCH she willed it to move, Anna’s body didn’t want to cooperate. A stream of sunlight came through a gap in the curtain and hit her eyelid. She winced and rolled over onto what felt like clouds. Yes, they were flying through them. She was way too comfortable. Grogginess consumed her.
Wait a minute. She was supposed to be at her tree before sunrise. She needed to drink her last sip of coffee as it broke the horizon. Her ritual. Something was wrong.
She opened her eyes and jolted upright. It took a second for her surroundings to register. Jack’s room. She let out a breath of relief and flipped the covers off. Pippa would be up. If she’d woken up already, as disoriented as Anna... She needed to check on her.
Anna walked barefoot down the short hallway. She’d grown so used to slipping sandals on in Busara. She never walked barefoot there. This felt intoxicating.
Pippa’s room was empty, but the faint smell of pancakes and coffee lingered in the air. It was too quiet. No sound of cooking utensils clinking. No voices. Anna’s chest squeezed and blood rushed. She crossed the empty living room to the kitchen. No one. No. No. No.
“Pippa!” she called, knowing there wouldn’t be an answer, but hoping she was wrong.
The front door swung open and her hand flew to her chest as she spun around. Jack stood there in jeans and a white T-shirt that said I’m Not Just a Y Chromosome.” He held Pippa’s hand and a crumpled red-and-white bag.
“Hi. We were wondering if you’d be up yet,” he said.
“Pippa, come here, sweetie,” Anna said, getting down on her knees and holding her arms out. She needed a hug more than ever. Pippa ran into her arms and planted a wet kiss on her cheek. The sight of Pippa... Gosh, she’d really let her mind go wild.
“You look pale,” Jack said. “Are you getting sick?”
Anna slackened her hold on Pippa and glanced up at him. He had the oddest expression on his face.
“You didn’t think...” He shifted his weight and frowned, then looked out the front door, still ajar, and back at her. “You didn’t seriously think I’d tricked you and taken—”
“No, I did not think that,” Anna said, putting her hands over little ears and standing up. Okay. So the thought had sort of crossed her mind, but only for a few seconds.
“The look on your face when we walked in said otherwise,” he said, shutting the door and setting the paper bag on the kitchen counter. He ripped a note off the fridge and handed it to her. Anna stared at his perfect, block letters stating that they’d be back soon.
“You walked in before I saw that. I just got up.” She let the rest of her excuse die. Jet lag and paranoia.
“We had fun, Mama,” Pippa said. “I got a balloon but it popped so we went to a p’aygwound and Daddy had to climb up to get me because I was stuck.”
It was Jack’s turn to grow pale.
“Uh, she wasn’t really stuck. It was no big deal. Just one of those fast-food playgrounds. She got a little panicked up in one of the tunnels. Can’t blame her. I felt a little claustrophobic up there myself.”
Anna pictured Jack lugging his big body through kid-sized tunnels...tunnels plastered with the prints of a zillion germy, boogery hands, to save Pippa. Now that was heroic, given how he felt about germs. She had no doubt he’d be changing his clothes.
“Fast food?” she asked.
“Yeah. We had pancakes for breakfast and watched some cartoons. You were still zonked out and I figured you needed some rest, so we went for a walk. By then it was lunchtime so we stopped to eat—”
“Lunch? What time is it?” No way she’d slept that long. Anna felt her wrist, but her watch was in the bedroom. She looked around. No clock. There’d be one on the microwave. She started for the kitchen. Man. She better not have missed the meeting.
“It’s one-ten. What’s the big deal?”
“I’m supposed to meet with Dr. Miller at three. I made the appointment before getting here.”
“Mama, I have a tummy headache,” Pippa said, leaning into Anna’s leg and rubbing her face against it. Anna picked her up and felt her head. No fever.
“A tummy headache?” Jack asked.
“Anything that hurts is a headache, according to Pippa. Did she eat too much? She’s not used to junk food, Jack. Maybe if you go potty, sweetie, you’ll feel better.”
“She said everything tasted good, and what do you mean, you’re meeting with Dr. Miller?” Jack looked downright angry.
“I can’t come here and not touch base with him. And I need to make sure everything is going to be okay with Busara’s funding. I’m taking her to the bathroom and then I need to get ready. If you don’t mind giving us a ride, that is. I could rent a car while we’re here—”
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“Thank you.”
“Mama-a-a,” Pippa whimpered.
“Okay, to the bathr—”
“Whoa!” Jack jumped back.
Anna glared at him, puke drenching the front of her T-shirt and dripping onto the carpet. Pippa started bawling. Jack covered his mouth and nose with his palm, then ran his hand over his face. Boy, she sure hoped he had the stomach to handle the smell of secondhand fast food.
“Um, I’ll get paper towels. Don’t move,” he said.
“Afraid we’ll dirty mor
e carpet?” Anna called out. And he thought he could handle having a kid? She rubbed Pippa’s back. “It’s okay. We’ll get you washed up in a sec.”
Jack came back armed with rubber gloves, several plastic bags and paper towels. From the way his face twisted, Anna bet he was holding his breath. Then again, he’d helped Kamau at that poaching site. Anna knew from experience the smell of decaying flesh was far worse. But there was something about puke...
“Here. Let’s get her clothes off and put them in this. I can run the washer while you wash her off. You can put your shirt in here, too,” Jack said.
Anna raised her brows at him. “I am not taking my shirt off here.”
His eyes widened with the realization of what he’d just said. “Of course not. Why don’t you wipe as much off as you can.”
Anna knew he was focused on cleaning up and not spreading the mess...or the germs. She was pretty angry that he’d stuffed Pippa like one of those dolls on her bed, but at the same time, seeing him experience a parenting low was kind of funny. Just weeks ago, he’d been under some misguided impression that he could leave Kenya with his daughter and just take up parenting where Anna left off. Right. Anna knew many people didn’t have the choice, but she was still Pippa’s main parent and Jack wasn’t going to change that.
* * *
AN HOUR LATER, Jack sat in his armchair, his head cradled in his hands. He’d really screwed up. His good intentions had backfired. As skittish as Anna had been acting since her arrival, he wouldn’t be surprised if she came out of the room ready to head back to Kenya.
A breeze rattled the standard-issue vertical blinds on his sliding balcony door. He hadn’t been in the apartment long enough to deal with getting curtains, or better blinds. The breeze was doing its job to air out the smell of disinfectant and cleaner he’d used while Anna and Pippa were in the bathroom. He preferred plain soap and water in most cases—none of that antimicrobial stuff that messed with immune systems—but he did keep disinfectant on hand for emergencies. And those products smelled a lot better than the pungent vinegar that filled the air. He’d called Zoe to see what she did with colored laundry when her kids got sick, and she’d suggested adding vinegar. Who knew?
Despite the odors wafting around the room and the churning of his washer in the hall closet, he knew when Anna walked in. He sensed her presence even before the scents of fresh soap and shampoo reached him. He looked up and gave her a sheepish smile, and was about to apologize, when she curled up at the end of the sofa closest to him. She was in a pair of sweatpants. Not escape clothes or packed bags.
“You’re not going to meet with Dr. Miller?”
“Not today. I borrowed the phone in your room and called the department secretary to reschedule. He’s apparently leaving for a three-day conference in D.C. and won’t be able to meet until he gets back. Pippa comes first, though.”
“I could watch her,” Jack said, knowing how stupid he sounded after what had happened.
“You’d have to give me a ride, and I don’t want to wake her,” Anna said.
“You could take my keys.”
“Uninsured with an expired license? Don’t worry about it. It’s a done deal.”
Anna tucked her hands under her legs. They gazed at each other in silence, until Jack couldn’t help himself.
“You look beautiful, you know that?” he said.
Anna glanced at her lap, clearly uncomfortable with his compliment.
“Kissing up?” she asked, then squeezed her eyes shut.
She didn’t need to be embarrassed. The memory of the tender kisses they’d once shared were burned in Jack’s mind. Kisses he’d hoped had conveyed to Anna that she was his world. His universe. But they hadn’t. And he was pretty sure she’d locked the memory safely in the past along with everything else. Or maybe she’d deleted it along with the Anna he’d known. The Anna who wanted a career, but also cherished the idea of a family of her own.
“No. I mean it. You’re beautiful. How’s Pippa?” he added, stepping to safer ground.
“She fell asleep while I was telling her a story. She’s fine, though.”
“I’m sorry, Anna. I was trying to help. I thought I was doing you a favor,” Jack said, leaning back in his armchair.
“I know.”
“You do?” He scooted to the edge of the chair and faced her.
The corner of her mouth turned up. “Yeah, I do. Jack...” She let out a quiet laugh and shook her head. “I haven’t had my coffee yet. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.”
He handed her the fresh mug he’d poured for himself. She sighed and took a sip. “Mmm. Thanks.” Another sip. “Jack, I know you’ve always aimed to do the right thing. You wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone, but the right thing is relative.”
He held on to the words aimed and intentionally. He’d read a but between the lines before she’d said it.
Jack knew hearing about her parents’ divorce had been the only reason she’d turned to him that night. The catalyst for everything that had been messed up about their lives since she’d graduated. And he knew from experience that trust was the hardest thing to rebuild. Maybe impossible. Anna was right to be afraid, because he was far from perfect, regardless of intent. And forcing him to make a choice between her and his daughter was just as impossible.
“Back in Busara, I said some things....” Jack paused, running the apology through his head to avoid another screwup.
Anna placed a hand on his knee. “Not anything I didn’t deserve. I’m sorry for how things turned out...for the choices I made. I truly am.” She took back her hand, and the breeze stripped the warmth from his knee. “We need to talk about what we’re going to do here on out, for Pippa’s sake. We’re always going to be a part of each other’s lives, Jack, because we share that little angel. We need to be able to move on without hurting her.”
He didn’t like how final that sounded. Jack scratched his head and got up to close the sliding door. Then he paced the room a couple times before sitting again. Options. There were always options. When he’d told her he wasn’t leaving Pippa with her in Kenya, he’d been hurt. In shock. He hadn’t trusted Anna then, but she was here now.
She’d used the tickets. She’d gone along with visiting his family last night, and as she’d watched his dad playing with the kids, Jack had caught fleeting moments of the dreamy look he used to see in her eyes. He was certain it wasn’t sleepiness.
Maybe there was hope. An option she hadn’t considered.
Jack’s pulse kicked up. The last time he’d asked, she hadn’t been pregnant, hadn’t had Pippa. What if she wanted him to ask again? What if that’s why she’d used the tickets?
His cell phone vibrated on the kitchen table. He ignored it. No lab emergency was going to interrupt this conversation. If that tech botched an assay, they’d simply have to redo it. This was Jack’s redo and there wouldn’t be any more after this. One shot, because he understood what it meant to not be wanted, and he wasn’t about to live through the pain of his childhood and that of the past five years again.
He braced his elbows on his knees and linked his hands. “Anna, they didn’t find you in the toy aisle. Back when you disappeared in a department store and scared your mom. They found you in the bridal department, weaving your way in and out of the satin dresses as you watched ladies trying on gowns.”
“Because I thought that was what fairies and princesses wore,” Anna admitted softly. “How did you—”
“You told me. It was one of the things you shared back when we’d sit on the top bleacher after school and just hang out...or when we’d go fishing on a Saturday morning. When I asked you if they’d found you in the toy section back in Busara, I just wanted to see your reaction. To see if you remembered us. We shared a lot of things, Anna. We were friends.”
It was her turn
to pace. She looked upset and had her arms folded in front of her.
“We were best friends. And we still can be,” she said.
No way. You are not giving me an “I like you like a friend” line.
“We have a child together, Anna. We’re more than friends.”
She put her hands on her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t say it. Please don’t say it,” she begged. Her face flushed and her chest heaved as if she was going to hyperventilate. Or throw up. He repulsed her that much?
“I don’t get it,” Jack said. “Is that why you ran away? I ruined our friendship by proposing, and the thought of being married to me was that disgusting to you?”
“What?” Anna stopped in her tracks and finally looked at him. “How could you possibly think that? Jack, I’d just confided in you about my parents. A bombshell had been dropped and I told you how everything I’d ever believed in had changed. Then you go and propose? Out of the blue? It was the last thing I needed to hear in that moment.”
“Is it the last thing you need to hear now?”
The color drained from her face and she reached for the TV cabinet. Jack rushed over and grabbed her arm. She shrugged free and slowly walked back to the sofa, slumping onto the end farthest from his chair.
“Yes, Jack. It is,” she whispered.
“I don’t get that. It’s not out of the blue. We have a history...a child. It’s the perfect option.”
Anna smiled sadly and turned her face away from him. She followed the line of the ceiling toward the far wall with purpose. Jack knew by the glide of her neck muscles that she was trying to compose herself. If he was lucky, she was actually considering his suggestion. They’d be a family.
“An option,” she said. Her tone made his heart sink. “I...care about you, Jack. The last thing I’d ever do to either you or Pippa is put you through that. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be an option. Our lives are separated by over seven thousand miles. Don’t set us all up for disappointment. I think you and I have both suffered our fair share of it already.”
