A Mother for Matilda/The Boss and Nurse Albright

by Amy Andrews

  The success of their trip would depend on an invisible and ever varying force—the wind. And the success of their relationship would depend on another invisible force—his desire to finally break free and move on in his life. Was he there yet? He had a feeling this weekend would give him the answer.

  Claire wore loose white pants and a bright yellow zip-neck, long-sleeved crew shirt with one of his old sailing jackets as she re-emerged from the galley Saturday morning. She brought two seaworthy mugs of coffee with her. The crisp morning air bit through his windbreaker and had quickly woken him up. But not until Claire had delivered his coffee and slipped under his free arm, as he manned the tiller, did he feel alive. He smiled as her hair flapped beneath her baseball cap with the extra-wide brim. It hid her eyes, and he wanted to take it off so he could see them, but knew it protected her from the sun’s harmful rays.

  She was beautiful, and tightened the sinews of his chest just by gazing into his eyes and dropping sweet, reassuring kisses on his lips. Each one made him eager for another. The day was bright and the sea ebbed and flowed beneath the boat. It was a fine day for sailing.

  “Do you have your sunscreen on?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain,” she said.

  Just before noon he navigated through an amazing section of ocean, the dolphin feeding grounds. Hundreds of the mammals leapt and frolicked around their boat. Pods had joined together in aggregates to fish and play, and several of them seemed to chase the sailboat. Their powerful flukes propelled them through the tealblue water in a most entertaining way. Claire laughed and gasped at their antics, and exclaimed she’d never seen anything like it in her life, and Jason played along, challenging the dolphins to try to catch him. They shared a smile followed by a kiss, and Jason thought the day was close to perfect.

  By early afternoon they’d reached Anacappa Island off the Ventura coast, and found a quiet cove in which to anchor. Claire quickly disappeared into the galley to make lunch while Jason tended the sails. When he’d just about finished, Claire called out his name.

  “Jason? Lunch is ready!”

  A minute later, he hustled downstairs to find her resplendent and waiting for him…wearing nothing but a huge grin.

  “Coffee, tea or me?” she said.

  Amazed by her radical surprise, he couldn’t get undressed fast enough.

  Claire didn’t know where this crazy idea had come from. It seemed completely out of character for her, but with Jason it felt astoundingly right. Maybe it was the constant roll of the ocean, or Jason looking super-mas-culine manning the schooner. Or the fact that she wanted to do something to blow his mind, so he’d never forget the day he’d taken Claire Albright to sea. Whatever the reason, she’d taken a deep breath and stripped down and had been rewarded by an ultra-appreciative stare when he’d entered the galley.

  Jason disrobed fast as a squall, rushed to her and dove into her neck with kisses as one hand weaved into her hair and the other located her breast. They kissed eagerly and wantonly, and her hands roamed over every bit of his flesh she could find. She’d been ready for him before he’d even found her naked, and with little effort he’d already grown hard.

  Before she realized it, he’d lifted her hips and sat her on a counter, the perfect height for him to press into her, which he did quickly and with vigor. The rush of hot sensations made her cry out.

  “Did I hurt you?” He stopped abruptly.

  “No,” she said breathlessly. She kissed him firmly as she wrapped her legs around his waist so he could deepen the penetration and soothe her edging desire.

  He used the counter as leverage and dove into her time and time again. “I think I’m falling for you,” he whispered over her ear, taking her totally by surprise.

  She wanted to say something back to him, searched for the words, but he’d taken control of her body and she couldn’t form a single thought, let alone a sentence. Both heat and chills fanned across her skin. Every hair seemed to stand on end. His unyielding thrusts found their mark, teasing and tightening her insides into frenzy as her mind whirled with his confession. He was falling for her.

  Her nipples ached with pleasure that coiled through her belly. She came quickly with a consuming shudder and wave after wave of tingles under her skin.

  She’d barely recovered when he thickened and pulsed inside her with several more lunges. The building wave started again, and she felt as if she were spiraling through the air until she came undone a second time, matching his powerful release.

  They held on to each other as if they’d disappear once they let go. He may have stunned her silent with both his actions and words, but in her heart she’d already fallen for him. Could love be next?

  After Jason made a makeshift canopy on deck for Claire, she snuggled beneath and watched him do a little fishing. If he got lucky, he might catch their main course for dinner. Or so he’d promised. The seasick pill she’d taken earlier in the day had made her drowsy, and she floated off to sleep without a care in the world.

  Later, heat and a trickle of sweat woke her up. She checked her watch. It was four o’clock, the sun had shifted and was still bright and shining off the water, right into her eyes. She searched for Jason on deck, but he was nowhere around.

  She shook her head to help wake up, and scooted out of the sun’s direct path.

  Jason appeared with a large iced tea, and she greedily reached for it as the combination of sun and medicine had made her thirsty.

  “On the other side of Santa Cruz Island—” he pointed to another island out further “—there’s a place called Potato Bay. It’s well protected from the sea, and I thought we’d sail over there and anchor for the night. In the morning we can do some hiking before we head home.”

  “That sounds wonderful. Count me in, Captain.”

  He kissed her, then put her to work on the jib while he lifted anchor and manned the mainsail. He sailed into the constant wind and made good time. They found the bright blue horseshoe-shaped bay surrounded by high jagged cliffs, and she saw hikers along the edges waving down at them and she waved back. Two other boats had moored across the way. Jason anchored the boat and prepared dinner before sunset.

  Opting to eat outside, they sat on the smooth varnished wood of the deck and had a picnic. Jason poured a rich burgundy wine and, because he hadn’t been successful fishing, they broke off pieces of baguette and ate assorted cold cuts and cheeses along with grapes, nuts and orange wedges.

  With a light breeze lifting her hair, Claire couldn’t remember when she’d felt more alive. Jason had shown her a whole new world at sea and she liked it, thought she could grow to love it. And him. She knew about his haunting battle with his lost family, and the thought of being treated differently because of it, or forever held at a distance, worried her. Would she have enough patience to give him time to heal? It had already been four years.

  Earlier Jason had said, “I think I’m falling for you.” The kind of phrase a woman longed to hear from the right guy. A stepping stone toward the promise of love. Yet his comment felt more like a general statement that had slipped out of his mouth in the heat of passion, and she’d just happened to be in on it. He’d taken her by total surprise.

  He’d invited her into his world, but he’d never discussed anything personal with her, other than telling her about the train wreck. And he’d never mentioned it since.

  She had no idea how he felt about getting involved with a woman with a chronic illness. Would he get bored with her need to rest more than the average woman, as Charles had? Could he understand that relapses would happen, no matter how diligent she was with her medicine and holistic remedies? Charles never had. Would he hold her responsible for any setbacks, as her ex-husband had?

  Each step closer to Jason forced so many more questions.

  Claire came out of her thoughts and scratched her neck in answer to a blossoming itch. It dawned on her that her face felt warm and tight. She’d slipped up by falling asleep and getting exposed to the sun;
now she feared she’d set off a Lupus rash.

  “What’s the matter?” Jason asked.

  She touched her face. His eyes widened. He put down his wine and came close enough to examine her.

  “You’re pink, looks like sunburn across your nose and cheeks.”

  “I’d better double up on my NSAIDS. I don’t want to wind up on steroids unless I have to.”

  Jason jumped up. “I’ve got some ibuprofen in the cabin. Let me get them for you.”

  “Could you bring up my purse? I’ve got some wild yam and licorice extract I should probably take, too.”

  Despite doing her best to avoid the sun on the sailboat, she’d still gotten a sun rash. Would she have to paint her face in zinc oxide and look like a ghost in order to sail with him? Sailing was Jason’s true passion in life, and she’d already flunked the test at being a part of it. What did that say for the odds of them being together?

  He brought her some water and a couple of anti-inflammatories and she hoped to keep at bay any further reaction. He gazed cautiously at her, and she used her best fake smile to reassure him that she was fine. She’d rehearsed and used that smile plenty of times for Charles, especially when he’d grown impatient with her illness if it interfered with his plans.

  “Have you ever used anti-malarial drugs in place of cortico steroids?”

  “I’ve tried every combination of treatment except chemotherapy.”

  Worry etched two lines between Jason’s brows, and in order to distract him she offered him a cluster of grapes, while she ate more cheese and bread, then took the extra pills. He sat next to her and patted her knee, nibbling on the grapes. At least he hadn’t moved as far away as he could and acted as if she was a burden and spoiler of all things fun, as Charles often had.

  “We’ll take care of this,” he said.

  His earnest reassurance gave her hope he was a better man than her ex-husband.

  As the clear sky darkened and the moon rose high and round above, Claire noticed mild aching in her muscles and joints, and hung her head in defeat. She feared this flare was beyond adding herbal remedies to her usual medicine, but she refused to give up and took more wild yam.

  Jason watched her when she changed into her nightgown, and couldn’t disguise his surprise at how quickly the rash had spread across her body, turning her bright pink.

  “Oh, honey, what can I do for you?”

  “I’ll be OK, Jason. I’m just going to go to bed now and rest.” It was only eight o’clock. She coughed as she turned back the covers.

  “Let me listen to your lungs. Sometimes Lupus affects them.”

  She shook her head. “Not mine. Not so far, thanks to this special herb cocktail I take.”

  He reached for his doctor’s bag in the storage bay on the opposite wall. “Indulge me. I’m worried about you.”

  She sat still while he placed the bell of his super-sized stethoscope on her back. He’d warmed it on his hand, yet still it felt cold against the heat of her rash and she straightened her spine. Her lungs were clear, as she knew they would be, but when Jason moved to her chest he listened intently.

  “You have a murmur. Did you know that?”

  “Mitral valve prolapse is a common problem with SLE. I’ve never had symptoms from it, though.”

  “No skipped beats or rapid pulse?”

  “I only get that when I’m on heavy doses of steroids. Or being ravished by you.” That drew a smile from him.

  “Let me put on some sunburn balm, at least.” He put his stethoscope away and found some cool aloe gel. His hands were gentle and there was a caring look in his eyes as he applied it.

  “I’m sorry to ruin your day,” she said.

  He stopped and shook his head. His ocean-gray eyes were clear with sincerity when he gazed into her face. “Other than your breaking out into a rash, this was the most perfect day I’ve had in years.”

  She brushed his lips with hers. “Thank you,” she said, over his mouth.

  They kissed again, and it was clear Jason wasn’t sure how much pressure was OK to apply on her skin, or whether to touch her at all. After his hands grazed her arms but never settled, he solved his problem by digging his fingers into her sea-tossed hair and kissed her soundly.

  He looked hungrily into her eyes. “I wish you were feeling better,” he said.

  “Me, too,” she whispered.

  With that, he tucked her into the bunk. “You warm that up for me later, OK?”

  She smiled and nodded as she snuggled down into the pillow, hoping a good night’s rest would solve her physical problems. As for her confusion over her growing feelings for Jason, that would take days to figure out.

  “I’ll be on the deck if you need anything,” he said, shutting off the cabin light.

  Claire closed her eyes and listened to his retreating footsteps. He’d called her “honey” and had said he thought he was falling for her, and it gave her hope that they could find a special meeting place. One that wasn’t haunted by the past.

  She’d wanted to make a good impression on the man she’d quickly come to care about. She hadn’t set out to fall in love with Jason Rogers, but it seemed to be happening anyway. Why else would she strip buck naked and serve herself for lunch?

  She covered her eyes and fought off a cringe, but soon remembered what had followed and decided she’d definitely done the right thing.

  For the first time since her divorce, she wanted to be in a relationship again. If only her Lupus would cooperate.

  Jason didn’t deserve the burden of a chronically sick girlfriend. Not after all he’d been through. The thought made her queasy, though it could be the extra ibuprofen. Fighting off sleep, she lay and waited for him.

  He couldn’t bring himself to go to her. Sitting on the deck, listening to the waves lap his boat, Jason stared into the dark. A scattering of stars had already appeared, but the distant shore lights made them weak and dim. He’d slipped up earlier and said something that had shocked him. He wasn’t ready to tell Claire how he really felt.

  He thought about her below deck, stricken with a rash and Lupus flare, just because she’d spent the day on his sailboat. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her pain. One nagging morbid thought repeated itself. What if her disease progressed and one day he’d lose her? Could he allow himself to fall in love with another woman he might lose?

  And, if that weren’t enough to keep him awake all night, he still needed to work out his resistance to the little one. It wouldn’t be fair to love Claire and not Gina, too. The child deserved nothing less.

  But not from him. He wasn’t her father.

  “Hanna. Baby girl. I’d give anything to change places with you,” he whispered into the dark.

  He’d said it with conviction on so many occasions over the past four years that it took him awhile to recognize how hollow the words sounded this time. Had he said it out of habit, or did he still really want to die? He thought about Claire below in his bunk and longed to go to her but, burdened by a million thoughts, couldn’t bring himself to move.

  He was a doctor; he knew how to deal with illness, but…

  Two children stood between them. One living. One dead.

  Jason cupped his hands behind his head and stared intently into the blackening sky.

  The next morning, though Claire’s body aches and rash showed strong signs of improvement, they opted not to hike, and to sail home early.

  By mid-morning, they approached the palm tree lined shore of Santa Barbara harbor, where Jason found his berth and docked.

  “Before we pick up Gina,” he said, “I’d like to drop off some of this gear.”

  Claire had never been to his house, and was interested in seeing where Jason lived. Twenty minutes later, just beyond the community college with the seaside track where a huge track and field meet was going on, they entered his Spanish-styled condo with arched entryway, red tiles and dark wood posts. The layout was open and inviting with the living room and dining ro
om flowing into the surprisingly large kitchen complete with cooking island, and a terrace with an ocean view opening out from the dining area.

  The first thing that hit her between the eyes was a large family portrait oil painting hanging on the living room wall. Seeing Jessica and Hanna made her stop in her tracks. Jessica had large attractive eyes and full lips, and dark brown hair. She perched on the arm of the high-backed chair that Jason sat on with Hanna on his lap. A traditional pose. The little girl had thick, wavy hair down her shoulders, and bright inquisitive eyes. She was skinny and looked consumed by her father’s large hands. The complete happiness evidenced in Jason’s face was something she had yet to witness.

  Her heart ached as she studied the portrait, and wondered if she could ever replace that joy. The thought made her shoulders slump.

  Jason had bustled ahead down the hall to unload his gear. Rather than gawk at the portrait, and indulge her worst fears, Claire glanced around the room. The long tastefully upholstered couch had most likely been chosen by Jessica. The lamps looked like Tiffany heirlooms. On a nearby table was a box of shoes by a brand Claire particularly liked but could never afford. She lifted the lid, expecting to find a pair of stylish stiletto pumps, perhaps Jessica’s, but found a pair of bronzed booties with Hanna’s birth date inscribed in the stand; a well chewed combination teething ring and baby rattle made out of silver; a slab of clay, brightly painted and glazed, with Hanna’s hand print on it; a homemade Father’s Day card from the year of the accident; a mother’s locket with Hanna’s picture inside; a multijeweled necklace and matching earrings fit for a rich doctor’s wife; a half empty bottle of perfume, a brand far too expensive for Claire to ever consider buying; a Valentine’s card for Jason from Jessica, which Claire did not open; and a mangled wedding ring. A platinum cushion-cut diamond rock that had lost several of the smaller stones outlining the warped band.

  Claire’s pulse sped up when she realized the ring would have had to be removed from Jessica’s hand after the accident. Her heart ached for Jason. Tears welled up in her eyes as she realized the significance of this box, and she bit her lip to keep from crying.