While he chomped away, swinging his legs back and forth under the kitchen table and sneaking tidbits to his canine buddy, Olivia had taken a few minutes to thumb through the day’s mail. Circular, flyer, magazine, advertisement, postcard advertisement, a couple of envelopes: mostly junk that would be pitched into the recycling bin. One, a letter from her mother, could be tabled till later this evening during free hours; the other was addressed to Jeff in thin, spidery handwriting. Curious, she put it aside for the moment.
Next on the agenda was the question every woman with a family must face every day of the week: what do I prepare for supper? She realized the answer to that should have been considered much earlier. But her day had been packed with time-consuming activities: a mid-morning doctor appointment, a trip to the dry cleaners’, a stop at the drug store for her refilled prescription, a half-hour wait while her car’s oil was drained and replaced.
All the while aware that business issues were calling her, with decisions that must be made and care taken for her loyal work force on personnel matters. A new insurance plan, with better coverage for everyone? A new pension set-up, offering benefits? A new employee who could run the Human Resource Department, to handle some of these vital concerns?
Now she was feeling quite tired, and, for some reason, slightly out of sorts, both physically and emotionally. True, her due date lurked just around the corner, and the last few weeks of any woman’s pregnancy could be rife with vague and unexplained symptoms. Still, there was something else nagging at the fringe of her thoughts that just didn’t…
“Hey, Mom?”
Guiltily Olivia turned back to the moment. “Sorry, kiddo. I was woolgathering.”
“Woolgathering? What’s that?”
Taking a welcome break in routine to join her son at the table, she briefly explained the word’s meaning. “Now, I’m sorry for not paying more attention. Was there something else?”
“Uh-huh.” Nick dipped his cookie into the glass of milk until it turned to sludge, then eagerly gulped down the mess. “ ’Member that crazy lady in Dad’s office last week?”
Olivia’s heart suddenly began to beat more rapidly, and the vegetarian sub she’d eaten for lunch was not sitting too well in her middle. “Yes, I do. She was really something, wasn’t she?”
The feet in their battered sneakers, one with a shoelace loose, were still swinging back and forth. “Yeah. Well, I think I maybe saw her today.”
Ugh. No more tomatoes, no more onions, no more green peppers, ever; the baby must be highly upset, to judge by the hard bumps and kicks against her own ribs at this announcement. “Did you? Where was that, honey?”
“Oh, it was outside the playground. On the other side of the street.”
“And why do you think it might have been her?”
“I dunno. Looked kinda like her, Mom. Y’ know, that really light blonde hair. And she was awful skinny, wasn’t she?”
Olivia did her best to relax the fist her hands had unconsciously formed into, and to draw a breath that would allow speech. “Did she talk to you?”
“Nope. Well, y’ know, we got supervisors anyways, they wouldn’ta let her come onto school property. ’Specially bein’ fenced in, and all.”
Thank God for small favors! “Uh—you didn’t go talk to her, did you?”
He gave her the sort of look that an almost-eleven-year-old boy reserves for his mother, when he thinks she’s being lame. “O’ course not, Mom. You think I’m that dumb? Naw, we were playin’ softball, and it was my turn at bat. Once I got back to home plate, she was gone. Hey, Mom, can I give Kevin a call, see if he can come over for a while?”
“Oh, better not tonight. Dad will be home soon, and we have—uh—we plan—honey, I’m sorry, I guess I’m just not up to visitors right now. Can we do it some other time?”
“Sure. Are you okay?”
Nick had been blessed with more sensitivity and maturity than many twice his age possessed. What a treasure this child was, and what a vital part of her life! For an instant Olivia closed her eyes in gratitude, then leaned forward to tousle her son’s stubbly hair.
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Just more than ready for this baby to enter the world and get us all back to normal. Um—if you happen to see the lady again, just go tell your principal, okay? Now, wanna play a quick game of Scrabble?”
Again the look, long-suffering this time. “Mom. There’s no such thing as a quick game of Scrabble. I’ll get the board.”
Like lightning, he was gone to the family room, leaving his mother to draw a few more deep breaths in an effort to calm skyrocketing nerves.
“What, you mean she actually had the nerve to show up at our son’s school?” Jeff asked in astonishment—and outrage—much later.
Giving in to Nicky’s pleas, before their Scrabble game was finished Olivia had ordered an extra-large pizza for their dinner. And kept careful watch at the front door when the delivery boy arrived. Hot gooey cheese, lots of veggies, the works, just in time for Jeff’s return home. Greeting his little band with relief and thanksgiving, he wondered if he would ever take for granted this family who had become his life’s blood, the beginning and center and end to every day.
After cleaning up, the males had swarmed to the back yard for some impromptu back-and-forths with a softball, while Olivia rested upon a garden bench to cheer them on. It was a quiet, recharge-the-batteries type of evening, just what every member of the Quinley group needed.
The calm before the storm? No matter how much she tried putting a damper down on wayward thoughts, Olivia couldn’t help feeling a twinge of anxiety now and then. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop. When and where and how would the mentally unstable Annajane Kendricks strike again? The suspense was nervewracking…and perhaps that was just what she had planned.
Once Nicky had done his usual browsing on the internet and his favorite YouTube sites, once he’d showered and gotten everything ready for school next day, once he was finally, safely, slumbering in his bed with Bruno stretched out beside him, only then did his parents dare speak of the fears that had begun to occupy most of their waking hours.
“Was he scared?” Jeff wanted to know now.
Olivia had huffed and puffed her way to an upright chair in the family room, one from which she could eventually emerge without the services of a derrick. With music playing softly, as a cover to any inadvertent exclamations, she and Jeff, sitting forward opposite on the couch, were talking over the situation.
“I’m getting so tired of having to talk over this situation,” she muttered. The words sounded petulant, yet held a note of truth. It did seem that, ever since their rabid adversary had been released from her psychological bonds, all they had done was worry about what might happen next.
“I know, sweetheart,” Jeff soothed. He was near enough to take her hand in his, as comfort and reassurance. “I know. It’s a rotten deal right now.”
He had reported on his impromptu visit to the Kendrick castle early this morning, and the disappointing lack of response and apparent concern from its owner.
“I don’t think the guy has a clue what’s going on in his household,” a frustrated Jeff went on. “He says not to worry, he’ll take care of things. Huh. Sounds like the damned government, patting its citizens on the head while it invades another country. So did Nicky seem upset by the possibility of Annajane being around his school?”
“No. More puzzled than anything, because he wasn’t sure of her identity. And I didn’t make a big deal of it. I didn’t want to scare him.” Olivia managed a wan smile.
“God. What a mess.” He bent forward enough to bury his head in his hands, pondering some solution, while his wife, caught up in her own set of woes, watched sympathetically. “You saw Dr. Trenton today, didn’t you?” he finally looked up to ask. “Everything okay with you and the bambino?”
She could have fibbed. She could have bent the truth. But he would, she knew, merely check with her m
edical service if the answer were unsatisfactory.
“Blood pressure is a bit high,” she told him cautiously. “Although the leg cramps and the backaches are standard fare. Apparently I need to breathe more deeply and learn to relax more.”
“Huh. Like that’s so easy to do. D’ja tell her what’s goin’ on with us right now?”
“Yes, I did. She’s concerned. She wonders what we can do to rectify the problem.”
Jeff sighed. “Wish the hell I knew, honey. The Westhalen cops are taking a pass through the neighborhood several times every day and night. Tomorrow I’ll call Nicky’s school and have a chat with the principal, explain the latest. Probably ask the cops to run by there, too.” His grip on her hand strengthened. “Jesus. Will this ever end?”
“I feel—I feel as if there’s noose tightening around us, Jeff.” Involuntary tears filled her eyes, caught on her lashes, and spilled over like water from a fountain. “I feel as if we’re caught, helpless, in a trap, with no way out.”
“Oh, sweetheart!” Deeply contrite, deeply humbled, he moved swiftly to kneel before her, one arm curved around her expanded waist. “There has to be a way out. We’ll find it, I promise you. We’ll put all this mess behind us, and go forward. I promise you. God in heaven, Livvie, I—promise you…”
* * * * * * * * * * *
He was on his way out the door next morning, ready to drop Nick off at school, when she remembered the envelope addressed to him as part of yesterday’s mail bundle. It still lay, unnoticed and unopened, on the shelf designated as a catchall. As she halted her husband mid-stride into the laundry room, Olivia realized that perhaps she’d forgotten the thing on purpose.
“Jeff?”
“Uh-huh? What is it, honey? Gotta get Nick over to—wait a minute.” He came loping back. “Is it time? Are you in pain? Should I grab your suitcase and call the doctor?”
Olivia staved him off with both hands. “’Fraid not, Papa Bear. You aren’t off the hook quite yet. No, I meant to give this to you when it came in. Sorry.”
“Sorry? What is it?” He frowned at the missive, and its unfamiliar handwriting. “Huh. Well, go ahead and open it, honey, and we’ll—no. Wait. I’ll take Nicky to school and then be back. Gonna run, hon.” He aimed a kiss at her cheek that ended up somewhere near her ear, then rushed away.
Good. Jeff would handle it. Fending off the odd little tingles of apprehension skittering over her skin, she dragged herself upstairs to shower her ungainly body and ready herself for the day.
“Okay, I got the kid squared away,” Jeff reported, as he swung into the kitchen nearly two hours later.
By then, Olivia was wearing a comfortable loose maternity top, stretch knit pants, and a pair of thongs which were about all she could squeeze her swollen feet into. She had emptied and refilled the dishwasher, sent Bruno out into the back yard to engage in his favorite pursuit of hounding squirrels, and started a load of laundry in the washing machine. Now she was savoring a cup of decaf tea while she doodled hat designs on her tablet.
“Everything all right?”
“Yup.” He poured coffee for himself and rustled through the breadbox to find a few leftover jelly doughnuts tucked away. “Had quite a talk with Mrs. Lawson,” he said, joining her at the table.
“Oh, Nicky’s principal. Yes?”
“Told her all about the crap that’s goin’ on, thanks to the psychopath we’ve got stalkin’ us.” His words came out somewhat indistinctly around a mouthful of pastry. “She was quite understanding. Figure she’s probably had problems with unruly exes before. At least now she’s been warned, so she can keep a closer eye on Nick while he’s at school.”
“That’s good. It certainly makes me feel a little better.”
“Huh. I’ll only feel better when Annajane Kendricks is back behind bars. But it’s a start.” Taking another bite of doughnut, he chewed reflectively. “After that I stopped over at the station to have a friendly little chat with the boys in blue. That’s what took me so long to get back home.”
Olivia had put aside her work to concentrate on their discussion. The weather was beautiful, on this early September mid-morning, with a perfect blue sky overhead and grass still green as summer underfoot. A variety of bird species could be heard chirping and chortling in the tree branches outside, along with several squirrels still chattering about the upset of their usual routine by that annoying canine interloper; inside, Bruno lay dead to the world and snoring on the kitchen rug.
“I appreciate your taking care of this right away, Jeff. But I’m afraid it’s made you awfully late getting in to the office.”
He shrugged. “Can’t be helped. Besides, I called Patty to let her know. Things are quiet right now; she’ll be able to hold down the fort. Okay, where’s this letter you showed me?”
It lay in the center of the table top, like the brand of Cain. Reaching out, Jeff peeled back a flap and drew out a single sheet of paper.
“Some sort of strange advertisement?” Olivia asked hopefully.
After a minute, he shook his head. “Wish I could say yes. But it’s—”
Quickly she slipped the missive out from under his fingers.
“No, Liv, don’t even think about—”
Too late. With the scan of each scribbled line, blood began to leach away from her face. The pretty rose-colored roundness of pregnancy suddenly looked formless as melted wax. Her blank green eyes lifted to meet his, but lips numbed by shock would allow no speech.
“Oh, sweetheart…” Heart twisting inside his chest at the utter despair on his wife’s face, Jeff caught up both her hands in his.
“The—writing…do you know—”
“Honey, it isn’t someone’s handwriting. It’s a computer font, somethin’ somebody’s used that’s goofy, to hide who they are.”
“Jeff, I can’t—” She let out a moan and pulled free to wrap both arms around her huge middle, in the gesture every expectant mother uses to protect the unborn. “—I can’t, I can’t…”
You think you’re safe. You’re a fool. You’ll never be safe. You’re all going to die. Soon.
Words emblazoned onto their souls, with the force of a burning brand.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Oddly enough, it was the visit from Julia Halliwell, later that afternoon, that provided more comfort and support for Olivia during this time of crisis than her own husband’s reassurances.
Oh, not that she didn’t appreciate all that Jeff was trying to do to keep his family safe from harm. Anyone could see how much pain and worry this whole mess was causing him, as well, and how devastated he felt that anything resulting from his first marriage might be indirectly responsible.
It was more the unarguable fact of Julia’s very womanhood. Also, being a mother herself, she could more easily relate to the fears a mother might harbor for her children. Ordinary, everyday concerns, and life-threatening, heart-stopping anxieties.
She had called just after lunch, as she periodically did, to check in on Olivia’s progress. “How’s the day going for you, kiddo?” came her cheerful voice across the miles. Just the sound lifted Olivia’s spirits from the abyss where they had been foundering.
Olivia glanced at the washing machine whose sudsy innards had decided, only a few minutes ago, to overflow onto the laundry room floor. Then at a small Boston fern once seen hanging at the kitchen window, whose chain had suddenly broken to send its freshly watered pot crashing into the sink. Then at the reliable old Hoover whose brush roller had unexpectedly fallen apart all over the family room carpet.
All of which had taken place almost simultaneously.
“I’ve had better,” she confessed, surveying the mess with near-tears.
“Oh, not so good, huh? Anything in particular going on?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Julia.”
“Try me.”
Briefly Olivia described how the household gods, working in tandem, had
abruptly decided to shower her with misfortune, for whatever reason. “And—and a few other things, besides,” she finished up in a wobbly voice.
That was all her tenderhearted friend needed. “Honey, you go put your feet up and sip at something nonalcoholic. Give me your address again, and I’ll be there shortly.”
Julia was as good as her word. And she didn’t come empty-handed.
With her she brought a box of ooey-gooey chocolate éclairs, whose contents she plopped onto a plate to sit in Olivia’s nonexistent lap; a mop and pail, with which she cleaned up the residue of the temperamental washing machine; a replacement chain and a garbage bag for the ferny plant wreckage; and her own vacuum, with which she proceeded to finish off the family room carpet.
“Oh, Julia, you are a treasure indeed,” sighed Olivia on a flutter of helpless laughter, once everything was back to apple-pie order. “Someone should bottle you, and sell your energy as a rejuvenating cream.”
“Well, just put me down as being the neighborhood busybody. I apologize for making free of your home as I have, but, honey, you sounded desperate. And I don’t think anyone wants that baby coming into the world too soon.”
“No. Especially me. There’s fruit juice and iced tea in the fridge; please help yourself.”
For the next half hour or so, the two women soaked up near-autumn sunshine and chatted about inconsequentials. The state of Julia’s living room, bereft of its decorator and work crew. (“Deplorable. But making progress, thank Heaven. I’ve hired a new crew and signed myself on as general manager.” Chuckle.) The possibility of setting up another play date for the boys. (“Soon, I hope. But things are sort of—topsy-turvy right now, as you can imagine. And Jeff has been picking Nicky up at school lately, so I don’t have to drive any more often than necessary.”) Olivia’s schedule of doctor visits, dramatically increased during the last weeks of pregnancy. (“Yes, next Tuesday again. No, no real problems. Apparently things are going as expected.”)
Romance: He Done Her Wrong (Cuddlesack Queens #2) Page 10
