A Child's Heart (Trent & Cassie's Story) A River City Novel

by E. Ayers

  “Are you certain you used one?”

  “Yes, and I gave you the fourth wrapper.”

  “Then why am I dripping in your fluids?”

  His mind raced. “I’ve never had such wild sex. What are the odds of losing it?”

  “Well, it’s lost.” She bit her lower lip.

  “No, I mean inside you?”

  She raised her gaze to him, but her wide-eyed expression showed her horror. “Could that happen?”

  Shrugging, he asked, “How would I know? I’ve never had sex like I’ve had tonight.” He picked her up and put her on the bed. Then he sat next to her and ran his hand over her mons and between her legs. “There’s one way to find out.”

  Slipping one finger inside, he found it and pulled it out. “Here you go, Houdini.”

  She closed her eyes. “I don’t need to find out I’m pregnant.”

  “If you are, I’ll have to marry you so we can have sex like that every night for as long as we live.”

  “That’s not the least bit funny.”

  “Promise me one thing. If you do get pregnant, please don’t destroy my child. If you don’t want the baby, I’ll raise it. I’ll pay any expenses involved with the pregnancy.”

  “There’s a pill, it forces the body to have a period. It’s not the same as an abortion.”

  “Yes, it is. It’s my child, too. Give it a chance.”

  “I want a shower.” She rolled off the bed and went back to her bathroom.

  When she emerged, she looked more like a drown rat with her wet hair pasted to her head and shoulders. She walked into her closet and put on the white nightgown. “I thought about greeting you in this, but I opted for my everyday stuff.”

  “May I spend the night? I won’t touch you again. I also don’t want to leave you like this.”

  She waved her hand at him to follow her into the other room. She opened the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle of wine. “I was hoping we’d be celebrating some wonderful evening together.” She poured two glasses and handed him one. “To lousy luck. It matches the rest of my life.”

  “You have that all wrong. To the most beautiful, sexy, phenomenal woman I’ve ever met, who for a few hours made me feel like a man again.”

  She touched his cheek as tears spilled down hers. “You are a man. I didn’t think it was possible for a man to make love that many times.”

  “Neither did I, but I guess with the right woman, anything can happen.”

  “We proved that.”

  Taking her wine glass, he put it on the counter and pulled her to him. His mouth covered hers. Her tongue darted into his mouth, sending a bolt of hot passion right to the very tip of his penis. She leaned into him, grinding her hips and pelvis against him. His thumbs found her nipples, and they responded to his touch by hardening. Her fingers made their way to his fly, and soon he was standing with his jeans around his ankles and his boxers someplace on his thighs. He pulled her nightgown over her head and then lifted her to his waist. Her legs wrapped him as she lowered her pelvis over his erection.

  “Condom,” he whispered.

  “A little late to start worrying about that.”

  His stance was awkward and impeded by his jeans. He leaned her onto the counter and continued his piston assault. She climaxed several times before the clenching deep inside of him warned him of his own orgasm. Quickly he withdrew, destroying the promise of an intense climax.

  She rested her head upon his shoulder. “Why did you pull out?”

  “The last time was an accident. This would have been purposeful. Can’t throw caution to the wind and then ask for mercy.”

  ***

  “Ready?” Trent asked Cassie.

  “Almost. I thought if I brought my fishing clothes with me, it would save us time. I can change in your bathroom.”

  “If my mom says anything, let me handle it. I’ll tell her I came over early to pick you up.”

  “Don’t lie. She has no right to say anything anyway. We're adults, and it’s not her business.”

  “You don’t know my mom. She’ll say something.”

  “Okay, I think I’m ready.” She grabbed the pearls off of her bureau and checked her image in the mirror. Her yellow, cotton dress with tiny, tuxedo pleats was plain, but stylish. She had twisted her hair into a figure eight and secured it with a large barrette.

  He smiled at her. “You look beautiful.”

  “Thanks, will you help me with this?” She handed him her pearl bracelet for him to hook.

  “We’ll have breakfast at my house after Mass.”

  She nodded and followed him out the door. In less than fifteen minutes, they were walking through his kitchen, where his mom was waiting for him.

  “Don’t give me any crap about sneaking out of here early to pick her up. You spent the night with her, again.”

  He looked at Cassie and then at his mom. “Yes. I did. End of discussion.”

  “That’s so wrong!”

  “Not when you find someone worth loving. God doesn’t chastise us for loving another person.”

  “God teaches us to wait until we’re married.”

  “He also said it is better to spill your seed into the belly of a whore than to spew it on the ground. And she’s not a whore.”

  “Trenton Michael Callahan, Junior!”

  Cassie dissolved into giggles and then with some semblance of composure said, “Please, Mrs. Callahan, we’re all adults. Yes, he spent the night with me, and he was very much a gentleman. You’ve raised a wonderful man, and I’m so thankful that I’ve met him.”

  “Well, it doesn’t look right to have him sleeping someplace other than his home.”

  “We’re not children. We had a little wine and we talked. I didn’t want him driving home under the circumstances.”

  “My son is very young. Not many men his age are widowers and taking care of a child like Shawn. He’s had to grow up fast.” Mrs. Callahan handed Cassie a mug.

  Cassie fixed a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table.

  “Bet there are a lot of things he never told you, such as why he turned down a full scholarship to marry Colleen.”

  Cassie sucked in a deep breath. “He’s never said a word about a scholarship.”

  “Colleen was almost five months pregnant when he married her. Seems he couldn’t wait for marriage, and I doubt he’s changed much. He’s just like his father.”

  Sipping her coffee, she decided to let Trent’s mom ramble.

  “Three months later, he’s the father of a preemie with big problems, and widowed.”

  “I thought Shawn's heart condition wasn’t discovered until later.”

  “Shawn was less than two pounds when he was born. Could have held him in one hand if they had let us. His lungs weren’t fully developed. I had to force Trent to go to the hospital. Then I dragged him to church. I was thinking he’d settled down in his parental role, until you came along.”

  “Trent’s a wonderful father to Shawn.”

  “Don’t ruin what I’ve worked so hard to make happen.”

  “I won’t. I adore Shawn.” Her mind was racing. He’s twenty-two? He doesn’t look it or act it. He told me she was pregnant when they graduated. I wasn't thinking. I’m robbing the cradle and there’s a possibility I’m pregnant. What have I done?

  ~~11~~

  Cassie discovered just how hectic a week could be. Going to the school board should have been easy, but instead, their laptop to screen system wasn’t working, forcing her to use notes and a dry mark board. All her pretty graphs on her laptop were unavailable. They told her they would get back to her with their decision.

  She would have never admitted it to anyone, but going to Mayor Bruno Giovanni over the budget problems rattled her confidence. Mrs. Winston’s careful records showed she was turning enough of a profit to continue to bring in more shows such as the expensive dinosaur exhibit.

  The mayor was pleasant. He nodded, asked a few questions, made copies of everyt
hing she had brought, and promised he’d look into it. She walked out of his office disappointed.

  What exactly did I expect? Nothing earth shattering, that’s for certain. Maybe a little acknowledgment of the job I’ve been doing?

  Sticking her key into the ignition, her old car responded with a handful of slow grinding noises. She tapped the gas pedal and tried again. She tried again and this time there was no response. She squeezed her eyes closed as her fist hit the steering wheel. “Dammit, start. I don’t need this!”

  With the sun beating down on her car, perspiration began to run down her face. She got out and looked for any signs of shade. A small restaurant across the street from the parking lot gave hope of refuge.

  Seated in a wooden booth with a glass of iced tea, she knew she had to do something. She pulled out her cell phone and called the museum.

  “Hi, it’s Cassie. I’m so glad you didn’t leave early for lunch.”

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Mrs. Winston asked.

  “I’ve got a problem with my car. I’ll be back as soon as I can get it handled.”

  “That’s fine, take whatever time you need.”

  “Thanks.”

  The young waitress set a small bowl of mixed lettuce on the table. Cassie tried to force a smile as she closed her phone. “Thanks, to you, too.”

  Towing plus repairs would be expensive, and her budget was limited. She punched another set of numbers into her phone and waited until it went to his message system.

  Darn, I don’t need this! “Trent, this is Cassie. Call me back. My car has quit. I don’t know what’s wrong. It won’t start.”

  A few forkfuls of salad later, her phone rang. “Hello.”

  A deep voice answered, “Hi. Where are you?”

  “I’m sitting in restaurant called Sal’s, across the street from City Hall’s parking lot.”

  “I know exactly where you are. Order a Coke and two slices of pizza with pepperoni for me. Where’s your car?”

  Knowing he was about to rescue her, sent a wave of relief through her. “In the city's parking lot. Do you know anything about cars?”

  “Not much. Don’t panic. Give me a few minutes to get there. I was in the shop when you called. I’ll wash up and be there in a few minutes. Um, Cas, I'm in my uniform. I hope that's all right. I don't want to embarrass you.”

  "Never. There's nothing wrong with you being in your uniform."

  In less than fifteen minutes, he slipped into the booth across from her. “Sorry, but when I’m out there with all those saws running, it’s useless to answer the phone. I wouldn’t be able to hear you, even if I did take my earplugs out.”

  “I don’t want to make you late going back to work.”

  “I’m fine. This place makes the best pizza. When you tried to start the car, what happened?”

  She imitated the noises, and he grinned at her.

  “Sounds like your battery. When we’re done, we’ll try one more time. There’s an auto parts store not far from here. Batteries vary in prices, but I’m willing to bet it’ll be less than a hundred to buy a new one for what you’re driving. How old is your battery?”

  “How would I know?”

  He took a couple of bites of his pizza. “How old is your car?”

  “It’s seven years old.”

  “Did you buy it new?”

  “No, it was two years old when I bought it.”

  “Have you ever replaced the battery?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then that is the most likely reason for it not starting. You’re lucky it’s lasted this long.”

  “Why do men know these things?”

  He chuckled and took another bite of his pizza. “I’m not trying to be sexist, but if a pack of women get together, they aren’t going to discuss cars, just as a bunch of guys aren’t going to talk about the needlepoint pillows on the sofa. I will admit, I do know the difference between needlepoint and cross stitch.”

  “I’m impressed, and you’re right. But I’ve also known women who change their own oil and things like that.”

  He swallowed his bite of pizza. “And you probably take your car in every six months for an oil change.”

  “No, they put a little sticker on my car that tells me when to get it changed.”

  He shook his head. “Not just women, but people in general take their car someplace to change the oil, because it really only costs an extra ten bucks to have someone do it. So, you change your own oil to save that money, or you do it because you find pleasure in being self-sufficient. I do it to save the ten bucks.” He took another bite of pizza. “I do make a decent wage.”

  “Right now, I’m making crap, but I honestly like what I do most days. This week being the exception.”

  “Bad week?”

  “Very, and I am looking forward to the weekend at the beach, but you’ve failed to commit.”

  A grin spread across his face. “We’ll come, and I’m driving. I know my vehicle will make it there and back. I need to pick up a pair of trunks for Shawn. What he had last year won’t fit him.”

  As soon as the waitress brought the check, Trent scooped it up.

  “Oh, no you don’t! Give that to me. I forced you to come here because my car quit. The least I can do is pay for lunch.”

  “No way, you need a battery.”

  “That’s what credit cards are for, and I’ll get the tip.”

  His eyes narrowed. “How far in debt are you?”

  “I’m not, except for my student loans. I use my credit cards, but I always pay them off. McGuire Investments handles most of my money. They keep me straight. I’m not poor. I’m very careful.”

  “I’m very careful, and I’m still poor. I got the tip covered. Let’s take care of your car.”

  ***

  Friday morning, Cassie put her key in the ignition and nothing happened. She called Trent.

  “I don’t have time this morning to fix it. I’ll take care of it later. Do you want me to take you to work?”

  “That’s okay. I’ll catch a bus.”

  That afternoon, Cassie was sitting at her desk trying to figure out how to tie two incongruent shows together and get it to the printer. Her appointment calendar was open and next to it were the figures for the dinosaur exhibit. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door that opened immediately.

  She stood and glared at Hugh Fitzgerald. “Never walk in here until I’ve invited you.”

  “Don’t give me any of that crap. And why are you going to the mayor behind my back? Are you trying to create a bigger problem?”

  “I have every right to go to the mayor.” She flipped her calendar closed. “The way things are set up, the museum is being screwed. I can’t run this place with my hands tied behind my back.”

  “I’d love to see you with your hands tied. Do you prefer satin or leather?”

  “You’re disgusting!”

  “Next year’s budget is on the table. If you want this job and enough money to keep the museum running, you know what it will take.”

  A small recording device sat next to her computer. She used it mostly for handling random thoughts and reminders. If she could reach it, she might have a prayer of a chance against making a sexual harassment charge stick. She stepped around her chair and pressed the tiny button on the recorder, and then a bigger one that shut her monitor off. “I forbid you to come into my office and make such a statement to me.”

  “We’re old friends, and friends are supposed to count on each other.”

  “I’m not your friend.”

  “Since when, Cassie? I’ve always liked you.”

  “That’s very nice. Now, get out of my office because I have nothing to say to you.” Stay calm, don’t let him bully.

  “I’m not leaving until I get what I want.”

  He took a few steps forward and she found herself trapped in the U of her desks. “I said get out.”

  “Oh, no, Cassie. You think you can go the mayor a
nd get things changed? Think again. Your job is in my hands, and from what I see, you’ve almost sent this museum so far into the red that the City will close its doors. The City can’t afford such a financial drain.”

  “This museum is holding its own and I can prove it.” She grabbed a pen and held it tight in her hand.

  “Give me what I want and you’ll keep your job.” He reached out to her, touching her arm.

  “Take your hand off of me. The only thing I’m giving you is the opportunity to walk out that door.”

  “If you want this museum, you will give me what I want.”

  “And what exactly do you want, Mr. Hugh Fitzgerald?”

  “Why the formality, Cassie? We were once lovers.”

  “You’re sick. Being sixteen and groping me in your car doesn’t mean a darn thing. Seems you didn’t know the meaning of the word no back then either. So here it is, and learn it this time. NO! Now get out! You are not going to come into my office and harass me.”

  “You’re making a big mistake. And I’m big.” He raised his eyebrows at her.

  “You’re a big bully, and I’m not falling for it.”

  “Your loss. You can kiss this job goodbye. You spend one more penny for anything between now and September, and you’re out of here.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Not at all. Just giving you the facts. You’re over budget and you know what it will take to loosen those reins. Personally, I’d prefer black leather.” He stepped away from her. “And don’t go getting any more ideas of running to Bruno Giovanni and telling him a pack of lies about me trying to coerce you. I’ll meet you tonight at five thirty at your place. After we’ve had a nice meal, we can discuss the museum like mature adults.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m never having dinner with you, and you’d better stay far away from my apartment.”

  “Would you prefer my house? My wife is visiting her family this month.”

  “One more time, the answer is no! Now get out of here.”

  Frozen in place, she watched the door close behind him. Her head pounded and she still had the pen in a tight grip in her hand. Her body and mind remained on high alert, as she expected him to walk back through the door. I will not be bullied. I will not be bullied. Closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths she put the pen back on the desk, pressed the save on her recorder, pocketed it, and slipped a flash drive into her computer.