Coincidences: #3 Diana & Anya

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Is anyone hurt?” She called out loudly, her eyes taking in all the people in so many positions. The sound of sirens was in the distance, the clanging of a school alarm loud and frightening.

  “Look after the little kids, Anya,” Ian went to some adults bent and having a hard time breathing.

  Anya gathered them, assuring the few adults that she was a doctor. She led the forty kids toward the small play area, far from the building and noise. One of the children had carried a small container filled with supplies. Anya had him sitting on the picnic table, making bracelets with kids names on them. By the time and adult came over, she had them all labeled. No serious injuries, a few bruises from falling in the rush.

  She moved through the crowd once the kids were with their teachers. She found Ian helping with oxygen and a firemen, her hand out to brush stray hair from his forehead.

  “The EMT’s are here…let’s go home,” Ian took her hand, leading her from the area, police and firemen and news reporters filling the scene. “Why did you give up medicine, Anya?”

  She buckled her seat bent, straightening her shoulder with a wince. She really hated admitting he was right, but the sling would feel nice about now.

  “I did not,” she answered simply.

  “You still have your license?”

  “I have all the necessary papers, Ian. I met a very nice sergeant at the military base just south of here. She helped me get everything transferred,” Anya recalled with a sad smile. “She had been assigned to help…I was here when they brought in Will’s remains. She was with me…then his family appeared…it was very tense. The security police were going to escort them from the area, they were shouting and very…very cruel.”

  “I should have been here…but I couldn’t get away,” Ian told her. “I spoke with his mother by phone. They are…not very culturally aware,” he phrased carefully.

  “Will said they were racist. Of all that are not white,” Anya went straight to the heart. “They made him angry at their behavior. He said he was never permitted to have friends of color. But he never listened to them or thought like them.”

  “No…no he didn’t,” Ian agreed softly. “If you have your license to practice medicine…”

  “I do not want to perform surgery any longer, Ian. But I do work for a mobile community bus,” Anya saw the surprise on his face. “Did you believe I could just stop? On the bus, I can help children in the community. It is a bus of St. Michaels. I work three days a week with them…I even have regular kids who come to see me,” she smiled happily.

  Ian blinked several times, tapping in the code to the main entrance.

  “I think being a surgeon was needed in the past. There are many surgeons here, and not so many who want to be a community doctor,” Anya unbuckled her belt and sat for a long minute. Her shoulder was throbbing more than before, her attempt to hide it not missed when Ian opened the car door for her, offering his palm for help.

  “I’ll get the sling,” Ian carried their purchases, pushed the front door wide and was positive he was in the wrong place. “What the…”

  Boxes, bags and hangers adorned the inside of the living area. All possible colors and shapes; tissue paper and bags.

  “What is all this?” Anya stared around the room, focusing on one of the hanging items. And then another. Dresses. She spun on Ian. “What have you done?”

  “Me? No, not me,” Ian returned immediately, noticing that all the visible things were decidedly feminine. “Anya, I had nothing to do with this, I swear it.”

  “I…who would…”

  She watched him pick up a crème colored envelope on the counter with her name on it. He carried it across to her, continuing to the bedroom and returning with the sling.

  “Hold still…before you start flinging your arms around and tearing out the stitches,” Ian quickly fit the sling in place, very aware of the confusion on both their faces. “Are you going to open it?”

  “No. You,” she thrust it toward him, backing toward the kitchen, her head shaking numbly.

  “Alright,” Ian opened the envelope, read the short note, closed his eyes and sighed heavily. This was not going to go over well.

  “Well? What does it say?”

  “Ahh…well…first, there’s a gift certificate for you in one of the shops,” despite the looming explosion he could envision her browsing through Victoria’s Secret for lingerie. He mentally smacked himself. Now was definitely not the time.

  “A…Ian! Who did this? Why did they do this?”

  “My grandparents did it, Anya,” Ian handed her the note.

  “Welcome to the family! Please accept this gift as part of your trousseau!”

  Anya felt the immense panic fill her, dark eyes sweeping from the note to Ian.

  “Trousseau? Trousseau! Do you know…do you realize what…”

  “I’m familiar with the word, yes,” Ian winced, glad he’d gotten her left arm in the sling as her right was flung far and wide as she paced and released a loud explosion of words into the house. He sighed heavily, pulled a kitchen stool close and sat back to watch.

  “You have nothing to say?” She demanded, glaring at him angrily. One palm at her waist and looking simply majestic.

  “I was waiting for it to be my turn,” Ian jerked himself back sharply when she surged forward, their faces inches apart. “Anya…they mean well. And they know…they want you to be happy. And trust me, they can afford this…”

  “Are they attempting to buy me for you?” She demanded in dignified shock.

  “I’m pretty sure that was not their motive,” Ian quickly snagged her around the waist and pulled her close. “I think they trusted my ability to handle that part on my own. Not buy you,” he said when he saw something flare in her eyes. “Win you…woo you…charm you…entice you…seduce you…”

  “Alright, alright!” Laughter burst out, barely beating the few tears that rolled along her cheek.

  “Think of it as a very early Christmas,” Ian whispered, softly catching the tears with his thumbs, tipping her face to his. “We’re not too bad together.”

  “Ian…all of this…it is…crazy,” she whispered even as the girl part of her wanted to know what filled the boxes and bags.

  “But you like it…just a little…” he coerced gently, peeking into the lowered eyes.

  “I…I cannot accept…it must have cost a fortune…”

  “I told you…they can afford it,” Ian looked up when the tapping on the door made them both straighten up.

  “Company? Now?” Anya groaned aloud, sinking to the chair, legs stretched out and head back.

  Ian opened the door with a long sigh, Chloe and Jane smiling at him.

  “We thought we’d come and help,” Jane looked at Anya, a wince crossing her features.

  “Help?” Anya looked from one to the other in disbelief. “You knew about this?”

  “Oh and congratulations,” Chloe said brightly, gazing around the room at their work.

  “Congratulations?” Ian knew he was beginning to sound like a parrot. “You two did all this?”

  Anya lifted her head, lashes narrowed as she watched them.

  “Your grandmother called me,” Chloe began happily. “She told me she wanted to do something for Anya and you as an engagement gift. She gave me instructions and Jane and I put it together like she wanted. She even asked me to take photos to share with her friends.”

  Anya groaned loudly, her head falling back before she suddenly surged to her feet, her one good arm swung up and wide.

  “I have solved it,” she announced loudly. “I have been shot. I am lying in emergency room, unconscious. All of this is not real. I am dreaming…I am in the middle of a raging nightmare! I am now going to lie down and when I wake, I will be in hospital and have nothing more than pain in shoulder, not pain in ass,” and with that, she swept out of the room, the bedroom door closing loudly behind her.

  Ian gave up, laughing deeply and shaking his head. “I can’
t believe this.”

  “I don’t think your grandmother meant to upset her, Ian,” Jane looked toward the closed door. “Do you think she’s okay?”

  “Let’s say we were doing really good until we walked into the house,” Ian ran his hand heavily over his neck. “Helping put this stuff away would be a great idea, though.”

  “Which room is the main closet?” Chloe walked through the large hallway.

  “She went into the spare room, so in here,” Ian lifted a large stack of boxes, snagged some bags and dropped them in the closet. “Maybe I can get her back to normal again. But it was great of you both to help my grandmother. I have a feeling I know what she’s up to…evidently I don’t move fast enough for her,” he said with a chuckle.

  “We were going to take her to the mall next week to use the gift certificate….a kind of girl thing,” Chloe said with a smile.

  “Good luck with that one,” Ian found their personal purchases, stowing them in the night stand drawer. “I think she’s taking to this whole new girl thing rather well…she seems to enjoy it.”

  “It’s a lot of history to change,” Chloe said quietly. “Her designs are so full of color and…and just feminine…I can’t imagine not being safe for just being a girl.”

  An hour later, the house was mostly back to normal. Chloe and Jane took away the boxes and bags with the intention of reusing them in the costume shop. Ian opened the door to the spare room quietly, his sigh soft. She was curled against some pillows and he could tell there had been tears.

  Lifting her carefully, he took her back to what he considered their bed. He slipped the simple sandals off and eased onto the bed with her, cradling her close.

  Anya opened her eyes, blinking at the puffiness, working to clear her vision. She felt the warm, larger palm whose fingers were twined with hers.

  “I am not in hospital,” she said simply, sighing at the soft whisper of breath on her shoulder.

  “Afraid not…still have that pain in the ass?” Ian felt her chuckle, loosening his grip so she could roll to her back. He met the bright dark eyes without hesitation.

  “You do not notice the…the emotions…so much when you are alone,” she said after a long minute. “There is not the…”

  “You’ve let other people into your world, Anya,” Ian brought his palm up, stroking lightly over her cheek. “It would be impossible to go back…there are too many of us now.”

  “Is that how it begins…an insidious take over…” She sat up carefully, reached up and unsnapped the sling, letting it fall so she could remove it completely. She sat facing him, cross legged with the skirt of her dress around her in a wide pool. “I must call and apologize to Jane and Chloe…”

  “They understand,” he assured her. “When you get to know them better and more about their lives, you’ll see you all have things in common. Chloe said her and Diana would be taking you to the mall one day this week…something about a trip to an all-girl shop.”

  “Is it alright…if now and then…I need to put on nothing but tee shirt and pants?” Anya’s eyes widened when he gripped her waist, pulling her over him. She wiggled comfortably, one eye brow up at the aroused male beneath her.

  “I find you sexy even in just tee shirt and pants, Anya,” Ian let his palms roam freely, pressing heavily over her sides and onto her behind, slowly pulling the dress up to feel the silk panties.

  “We have not solved problems,” Anya frowned, his hands were very good at this, a soft sigh breaking free as she relaxed.

  “Which problem were we working on?” Ian tipped her to the side, his fingers moved to her neck, releasing the button on the halter.

  “There are several,” Anya felt the breeze on her chest, her own fingers busy with the buttons on his shirt. Her palm spread out, soaking in the warmth before leaning closer, trailing soft kisses over his collarbone to his throat, onto his jaw and finally settling on his mouth.

  “I must have missed something,” he mused, sitting up long enough to shrug out of his shirt and pull her dress over her head. “Much better,” once more facing one another in a long, slow kiss. “So what do I need to fix…” his question ended in a groan when her palm slid to his stomach, teasing the edge of his pants with slim fingers dipping inside. The jean button disappeared under her guidance, her palm pressing heavily over his erection.

  “Your grandparents believe we are engaged,” she murmured, rising to her knees at his side, her head shaking slightly when he reached for her. She pulled gently, lowering his jeans until she could see him in all his male glory.

  Ian was positive his body hardened even more just under her appraisal. She moved the jeans slowly down his legs, her palms pressing softly along his inner thighs until she cupped him completely in her hands. He groaned aloud.

  Anya leaned close, brushing his stomach with her kiss, her tongue out and trailing a hot path lower.

  “I don’t think I can talk about that now, Anya…” his voice came out low, another soft groan breaking free when her mouth and tongue began exploring.

  “I find you incredibly sexy, Ian,” Anya moved along his body, stretching herself over him and sinking her fingers into his hair, pulling his mouth to hers hungrily. “It is fascinating…that a woman finds such pleasure in your form…”

  “And a man finds infinite pleasure in yours,” he agreed, tipping her to the side and finding the packets they had bought. She took it from him, pressing her palm on his chest until he was lying back. “Anya…”

  “Shhh…I want to do this,” she said, carefully and with maddeningly slow movements, she fit the thin latex over him, laughing with him when he tossed her to the bed. “You are impatient…”

  “We’ll see who’s impatient,” he promised, sinking himself in the hot moisture, teasing, stroking and arousing until she called out his name. Her breathing ragged and body convulsing around him, sending him over the edge seconds later.

  Anya lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. She didn’t see the very male appraisal of her as he returned to the bed, or the love deep in his gaze.

  “I have decided it is much easier to deal with problems after sex.”

  Ian pulled his jeans over his legs, chuckling. “Just so long as we don’t need problems to have sex, I’m good with that assessment. You are one incredibly sexy wench,” he liked way her panties hugged her hips.

  Both of them looked up when the buzzing began. Anya shrugged. “It is not me. I have only phone.”

  Ian went out of the room, returning with a frown. “There’s been a big fire…”

  “Do you need my help?”

  “Another time…your shoulder isn’t up to that yet,” he pulled a shirt over his head, leaned down and kissed her soundly and went in search of shoes. “Try and stay out of trouble. Hot tub when I get home and maybe swimming. Put the sling back on, Anya.”

  “Nag, nag, nag,” she mumbled but reached for the sling on the floor. She went in search of her swimsuit, hooked on the chair outside where they had lost their clothing the night before. Dressed in swimsuit and towel, Anya wandered to the pool several hours later. She worried about him; thought about him; missed him. So many people in your life now, she thought, dozing beneath the warm sun.

  A small noise brought her back, thick lashes blinking slowly, her face turned in the direction of the sound.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Hi.” Came the small voice. Thin and tanned, a stock of blond hair and bright dark eyes peered at her.

  “Hi,” Anya sat up slowly, wincing at the stiffness in her shoulder. He wasn’t very big but carried a large towel in both arms. He dropped it to a chair and came to stand at her side.

  “Can you swim?”

  “I can…can you swim?”

  “I’m learning…but mom says I can’t go in the water unless someone is with me,” he pulled his lips together in thought.

  “Well…your mother sounds very smart. I am with you,” Anya saw the smile begin in his eyes. She stood up and walked to the
staircase that led into the large pool. “That means we can swim together.”

  “Grandma says you got shot. With a gun,” he breathed in amazement.

  Anya watched him paddle around, little plastic bands around each arm. She moved into the warm water, standing near the divider to keep him from the deeper end of the pool. She removed the sling, laying it on the side and stretching her arm along the concrete.

  Ian stopped in his approach, listening and watching.

  “Yes…I did get shot. It is not pleasant,” she told him, floating and watching him paddle around.

  “I don’t like guns. One of the kids at school had one. I told the teacher.”

  “Very smart of you. Guns are not to be used as toys.”

  “Some kids were mad at me.”

  “Ah…but they are alive to be mad, true? I do not like guns, either.”

  “My name is Mark.”

  “I am Anya,” she returned his smile. “You swim very well.”

  “I take lessons at school.” He seemed to be studying her, weighing things in his mind. “Did it hurt?”

  “Yes…a great deal.”

  “Is that why you have the thing for your arm?”

  “The muscles were damaged by the bullet. It will take time for them to get strong again and heal,” she explained honestly.

  “Did Uncle Ian fix it for you?”

  “Yes, he did. He is a very good doctor.”

  “He’s a fun uncle, too. Are you living with him? Grandma says you’re using him…what are you using him for?” Honest confusion filled the little face and made Anya laugh.

  “I think I am living with him,” she admitted to herself. “And he is very much fun. Using him…that is difficult to explain.”

  “But grammy says you like each other and you laugh together,” Mark went on, sharing the family gossip with her. “She’s fun, too…she tells great stories.”

  “I think she is fun, too,” Anya nodded, accepting the difference between his grandmother and great-grandmother.

  “Are you going to marry Uncle Ian?”

  Anya let her head rise slowly. “Well…Uncle Ian has not asked me to marry him.”