Spring, The Twosies

by Josie Brown

  “Doctor…my son…is everything alright?” she murmured.

  The man turned around. Lowering his surgical mask, he declared, “Sure, babe! He’s perfect! Art Junior is a chip off the ol’ block.”

  Wincing through her pain, Bettina forced herself to sit up. “How the hell did you get in here?”

  Art wagged his finger at her. “Already cursing in front of the child? Naughty, naughty!” He rocked back and forth on his heels with Nathaniel. “It wasn’t hard. Despite your status as my pariah wife, there are no armed guards outside your door. I don’t think your new Fed boyfriend was expecting you to drop this little bundle of joy so quickly. Granted, Art Junior is a couple of weeks early—”

  “That isn’t his name,” Bettina growled. “It’s Nathaniel Morrow…Connaught.”

  Art’s eyes narrowed. “You mean Cross, don’t you?”

  “I meant what I said,” she countered. “I am early. All the stress of being your ex-wife, I assume. Why are you here, anyway? I’d think that San Francisco is the last place you’d be right now.”

  “I came back for you, Wifey—and my daughter, and our little bundle of joy here”—he paused to make his point—“Art Junior.”

  “Perhaps the rat-tat-tat of gunfire has hurt your hearing. I’ve already told you that his name is Nathaniel Morrow Connaught.” Suddenly suspicious, she added, “Yes, I was early. So, tell me, how did you know I’d gone into labor?”

  “I’ve got eyes and ears on you at all times,” he assured her.

  He’s spying on me? How?

  Then it occurred to her:

  She stumbled to her feet in order to grab her purse off the counter. Her cell phone was in the front pocket. She found what she was looking for: an app she’d never purchased called FollowMeee.

  “Why, you son of a bitch,” she growled.

  He laughed uproariously. “Peek-a-boo!”

  When she got home, she’d have one of Brady’s hacker buddies do a security walk-through of her room. In fact, she’d make sure he’d check out her cell phone thoroughly, along with Eleanor’s home, and the car.

  “We’ll have plenty of time to come to a consensus over his name when we reach our final destination.” He looked at the Rolex on his arm. “We should be wheels up in twenty-four hours. If you want, I’ll come back and slip you and the wee one out in a laundry cart.”

  “No need. I’ve decided to stay here in San Francisco—permanently. I would find your life quite tiresome, what with all the drugs, whores, murders, and attempted kidnappings.” She glared at him. “Speaking of attempted kidnappings, if you don’t put down Nathaniel this very minute, I will scream at the top of my lungs that my outlaw ex-husband is trying to steal my son—”

  The knock on the door silenced her.

  She snatched the baby from his arms.

  Art, nonplussed, raised his surgical mask over his mouth.

  The door opened:

  Daniel.

  Bettina held onto the bed with her free hand in order to stop herself from falling to the floor.

  Daniel smiled at her. Then, seeing Art, he exclaimed, “The nurses told me you were alone.” He held out his hand to Art. “Is this your doctor?”

  “No, just an orderly,” she insisted. “He’s emptying the trash in my bathroom.” She flicked her hand at Art.

  At least Art was smart enough to take the hint. He grabbed the plastic liner from the wastebasket and then started for the door.

  Daniel’s eyes never left him. In fact, when Art reached the threshold, Daniel didn’t move aside. “You’re not in surgery. Why the need for a mask?”

  Art gave him a quizzical look before blurting out, “Porque no quiero exposer al bébé a los germenes.”

  Daniel thought for a moment and then shrugged. “Right—wouldn’t want to expose the baby to an infection.” He stepped aside.

  Art was out of the room in a flash.

  Bettina’s relief was expressed in a soft groan.

  Daniel rushed to her side. “Bettina! Are you okay? Should I call a nurse?”

  “No! Oh, Daniel! I…” to stop stuttering, she took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m just surprised to see you here.” She frowned. “I’d have thought you’d be in the middle of counting the proceeds from the auction.”

  He winced. “At the auction, when you doubled over, I was concerned. I thought…I thought it might be about the statue.”

  Bettina couldn’t resist asking, “Did Kelly end up with it?”

  He grinned. “No. She couldn’t match the final bid: fifty thousand dollars.”

  Bettina rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness! Well, I hope it brings the new owners much enjoyment.”

  And that they never discover the safe in the base.

  Daniel touched Nathaniel’s cheek with his pinkie finger. “After the auction, I tried Matt’s number, but he never picked up.”

  Bettina shrugged. “Lorna went into labor too.”

  “I wondered why she ran out so quickly.”

  Bettina’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “She was at the auction too. You didn’t see her? I guess that explains why you and Matt weren’t sitting with her—and Jillian and Ally.”

  They were there to gloat over the sale of my possessions, Bettina reasoned.

  I hate them all—especially Lorna.

  “What’s his name?” Daniel asked.

  Bettina’s eyes grew larger. “Who…the orderly’s?”

  Daniel laughed. “No, silly woman. I meant the baby’s.”

  “Oh! …Nathaniel Morrow Connaught. I’ll call him Nat. Short and sweet.”

  She realized Daniel was watching intently as she rambled on. Guiltily, she declared crisply, “Now that you know I’m fine, feel free to check in on Lorna.”

  “Sure, I’ll go if you’re too tired to talk to me.” He asked it as a challenge.

  Turning her head to the wall, she muttered, “I am tired.”

  So tired of Art butting into my life; and tired of having others hate me for petty reasons—

  And most of all, I’m tired of lying to you.

  The sudden urge came over her: to tell him about the key—

  “No, Daniel, stay! I have something to say—”

  Too late. By the time she turned around, he’d already gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Friday, 15 February

  8:47 a.m.

  “The nerve of Garrett, pulling an end-run on us with Owen Acworth,” Brady fumed as he played airplane with Oliver’s oatmeal. “Zoom, zoom! Incoming, Oliver!”

  Obediently, the little boy opened his mouth wide. He practically sucked the spoon out of Brady’s hand.

  “Look, I know you’re upset,” Ally countered, “but maybe you’re looking at it the wrong way. I mean if Acworth, Collins, and Markham were truly vested in Life of Pie’s vision, they wouldn’t have stepped away from the table so quickly, now would they?” Her own attempt at coming in for a landing with Zoe’s oatmeal spoon was met with a backhanded slap.

  Unfortunately, the mush hit Oliver on the side of his face.

  Brady, too busy staring at Ally, ignored Oliver’s indignant squeal of protest. “Seriously? It doesn’t bother you that all the time and effort we’ve put into playing ball with ACM has been upended by someone who hasn’t yet had the courtesy of sitting down with us first, if only to hear our business plan, let alone explain his own interest in it?”

  Because Brady’s hand had frozen in mid-flight, Oliver was able to smack the next spoonful of oatmeal in Zoe’s direction.

  When it hit her on her nose, she shrieked with glee.

  Ally smacked Zoe’s hand and hissed, “No!” at both toddlers before taking a napkin and wiping the oatmeal off her daughter’s face, and then doing the same to Oliver. “I think we know why Garrett wants in—because of his relationship with me, whatever the hell that is. So, why not use it to our advantage? The fact that he’s one of the top ten VCs in the world can’t exactly hurt us—or our stock,
when we go public.” As she moved the children’s bowls to the kitchen counter, she added, “And as far as ACM is concerned, I should tell you that every time I was alone with Owen, he’d drop hints about picking up where we left off.”

  “Why, that son of a bitch,” Brady fumed.

  “Potty mouth!” Zoe and Oliver yelled in unison.

  Sheepishly, Brady told them, “Sorry!”

  As Ally released Zoe from her high chair, she asked, “As for our vision, the whole purpose of your meeting with Garrett was to go over it. Didn’t you get into that at all? Surely, he didn’t start out the meeting with his news!”

  “No. We got…sidetracked.”

  “Oh?” Oliver’s attempt at a kamikaze dive from his highchair gave Brady a good reason to avoid Ally’s inquisitive stare. Instead, his eyes followed the children as they went off to play in the media room.

  She wants to know if he mentioned her. No way will I tell Ally what he said!

  As if reading his mind, she declared, “He mentioned me. But you don’t want to tell me what he said.”

  “No, it’s not that! Well, hell yeah, it is—that and more. It’s his view on women in general. And how to—to handle them.”

  “Women need handling?”

  “I kid you not. They were his exact words.” Only cruder.

  She snorted. “It should be interesting to see how he tries to ‘handle’ me when I see him later this afternoon.”

  “What? When?” Brady frowned. “I thought I’m supposed to be coordinating the negotiations with Garrett.”

  “From what you’ve just said, there’s nothing left to negotiate. He owns us—lock, stock, and barrel,” Ally pointed out. “And besides, we aren’t meeting about Life of Pie. He wanted me to help him pick out a birthday present for his wife.”

  And so it begins, Brady thought. The wooing.

  “Don’t go,” he warned her.

  “Brady…really?” She shook her head, confused. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because he’s going to tell you whatever it takes to win you over. He’ll play you,” Brady exclaimed. “And…and…”

  Ally crossed her arms at her chest. “And what?”

  “He’ll do whatever he can to break us up.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Because he sees me as the competition—for you. And he wants to win you over at all costs.”

  She shook her head at what she couldn’t believe. “Are you worried that I’ll choose him over you?”

  “Yes.” His voice was so low that she could barely hear him.

  She rolled her eyes. “Brady, in the past, you’ve accused me of being jealous. You had every right to do so. But admit it: now it’s you who’s imagining things.”

  “In other words, you’re going to meet with him anyway.”

  “Frankly, I don’t see why not.”

  “Let’s start with the end-run he just made to take control of our company.”

  Ally reached up to touch his cheek. “There is nothing he can say to make me doubt you. Have you forgotten? You’ve aced that test every day.” She smiled up at him. “Now, help me wrangle the hellions. I’ve promised I’d wait for Jillian prior to going into the Top Moms meet-up today. Rona is picking up Scotty this morning. It’s her turn to impress the judge with her parenting skills.”

  “After what she said about the judge’s visit to her place, does she feel she still has a chance of holding onto the little guy?”

  “Hard to say. Barry has our favorite detective checking her out—or more importantly, her son, Jeff.”

  Brady shrugged. “Speaking of Jillian, I guess I have to break the news to her that we’re no longer in business with Acworth, Collins, and Markham.”

  “I’ll tell her when I see her at ten.”

  “The call should come from me,” he insisted.

  “With Rona breathing down her neck, she’s got more important things on her mind this morning,” Ally reminded him. “Since I’ll be seeing her immediately afterward, it should come from me.”

  He nodded. “No problem. Listen, since I’m apparently on parent duty while you’re with Daddy Dearest, ask Jillian if she cares to drop by here later in the afternoon with the twins. By then I should have heard back from Barry as to what fail-safes in the contract can stop Garrett from bulldozing us into his deal. Believe me, Ally: I don’t mind the fact that we’re back in play. I just don’t like that Garrett is the one who put us there.”

  She nodded and then leaned in for a kiss.

  It lasted just a second before the sound of a crash had them running to the media room, each shouting the name of their child.

  * * *

  10:05 a.m.

  “I’d like to call this meeting to order,” Mallory shouted into the Moscone Community Center’s microphone, essentially drowning out the din created by the animated members of the Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club’s Top Moms. “We have a very important matter of business! If you haven’t heard already, both of our co-Chief Executive Moms, Bettina Connaught Cross and Lorna Connaught, delivered their babies yesterday—”

  “Excuse me!” Kelly waved her hand wildly.

  “It’s rude to interrupt when I’m speaking.” Mallory’s deep growl was so reminiscent of Darth Vader that it sent shivers up the spines of many in front of her. In fact, a few of the toddlers broke into tears.

  “But that’s my point: Mallory, why are you leading this meeting in the first place?”

  Mallory’s mouth dropped open, but Kelly’s impertinence was egregious enough that no words came out.

  This gave Kelly just the opening she needed. She sauntered to the podium. With a flick of her wrist, she took the cordless mike in her hand. Then, with the assurance of a game show host, she added, “In fact, I don’t see a line of succession amongst Top Moms anywhere in the bylaws. Considering that both Co-CEMs are out—and may be for quite some time— shouldn’t we vote to add a position that acts as a substitute? Call it, say, a vice CEM?”

  Her suggestion created a lively stir amongst the other mothers.

  “I’ll second that,” Shoshanna exclaimed.

  Mallory slapped the gavel three times. “Order! Come to order—NOW!” Her command induced the desired silence, but only because the mothers were concerned that the children might have nightmares throughout the week. Accomplishing her goal, Mallory hissed, “Next to Bettina, I’ve had more years as a Top Mom than anyone here. If you think I don’t deserve to take charge of the meetings in their place, speak now—or forever hold your peace!”

  “Of course, you deserve it.” Kelly’s tone was soothing. “But for the same reason—an emergency, or illness—shouldn’t you have a co-Vice CEM? That position should be voted on, don’t you think?”

  “But Sally Dunder could—”

  Pleased, Sally perked up.

  “Um…Never mind. On second thought, we should take a vote!” Mallory shrugged her regret at being disloyal to her dear friend.

  This was club business: as Machiavellian as any theater of war. In the trenches, anyone else would make a better ally.

  “Who would like to be in consideration?”

  Miffed, Sally muttered caustically, “Why not Kelly?”

  If she meant it as a joke, Kelly didn’t take it that way. With a hand fluttering at her neck, she exclaimed, “Me? Oh, my goodness! What an honor! And if elected, I’ll do my best to be the calming yin to Mallory’s ever-strident yang.”

  Sighs of relief filled the room.

  The few who also put their names forward didn’t have a chance.

  After the votes were counted, Kelly wrapped her arm around Mallory’s waist and assured her, “Not to worry, dear. We’ll whip this motley crew into shape—something Bettina seems to have forgotten how to do.”

  Mallory nodded grudgingly. Kelly was right. Bettina’s negligence had gone on for too long.

  And it was nice to finally be recognized for all of her strengths. Strident was quite a compliment! She saw that by how the
others murmured in agreement.

  Maybe Kelly wasn’t so bad after all.

  * * *

  10:13 a.m.

  “Please excuse me for being so late!” Jillian pleaded as she rolled the twins’ strollers next to where Ally was sitting on the community center’s steps. “I asked Rona to be on time, and of course, she showed up half an hour late—on purpose.” She leaned on Amelia and Addison’s double stroller in order to catch her breath. “And of course, she was dressed to the nines. I hope little Scotty doesn’t drool on that beautiful Marc Jacobs suit she was wearing.”

  Ally laughed. “If he does, I’m sure she’ll figure out a way to blame that on you too. By the way, was Jeff with her?”

  Jillian grimaced. “Yes. But he refused to acknowledge me. For that matter, he wouldn’t even look my way.”

  “The least he could have done was get out and help his mother by carrying the little nephew he’s never seen,” Ally exclaimed.

  “In a way, I’m glad he didn’t come over,” Jillian countered. “I might have slugged him. He had no right to play along with Scott’s fantasy that I’d made love to his brother, and therefore he wouldn’t have to pay child support.”

  “You’re right. Had you hit the jerk, Rona could claim you were too dangerous to raise little Scotty,” Ally replied. “Listen, before we go inside, there’s been an…an interesting development with the financing for Life of Pie.”

  Jillian’s eyes narrowed. “Is it good news, or bad news?”

  She handed Zoe a bottle with one hand, and Oliver’s to him with the other.

  “Frankly, it may be something good.” Ally took a deep breath. “Acworth, Collins, and Markham handed the deal to another VC firm.”

  “Why?” Jillian asked. “I thought they loved working with us! If it has something to do with the pies, I’ve been—”

  “No, Jillian, nothing like that.” Ally gave Jillian’s hand a squeeze. “It was strictly a business decision on ACM’s part. The new VC made them an offer they couldn’t refuse in order to walk away.”