Sweet and Sassy Baby Love

by Alicia Street

  She still wouldn’t look him in the eye, her posture remained stiff and unyielding. He wanted to ask how she’d managed to get from her room where he’d watched her disappear a couple of hours ago, to coming in through the back door minutes ago. He hoped to Jesus that she’d not been about to slip town on him. The thought of what could have happened, constricted his already tight throat muscles. She was determined to follow through on this course of action, he couldn’t stop her. He hoped she would at least listen to the voice of reason, namely Frank, and obey every precaution.

  * * *

  Sara couldn’t bring herself to meet Nick half way. She still smarted over his possible duplicity. Needed time to assimilate it before she decided anything. She wished she could set it aside and forget it, but it wasn’t that simple. She’d fallen in love with him, put her trust in him, and he had let her down. For right now, she needed to focus all her attention on what needed done to get Fiona out of Tom’s clutches and him behind steel bars. Her priority couldn’t be whether Nick had lied to her, or how she wished she could lean against his broad chest and find the comfort she so badly needed. Instead, she was going to have to stand on her own, as she had always done. After all these years, she should know by now, you can’t count on anyone but yourself.

  She couldn’t remember a time anyone ever cared how she felt. The nine different foster families she’d been assigned to took care of her basic needs, but no one ever tried to create a bond with her. Then she went to a new family the year she turned fifteen.

  The Bakers were a middle-aged couple; Mrs. Baker worked at the local bank, Mr. Baker owned a car lot and spent most of his time at the office. Sara had a list of duties posted to the stainless-steel refrigerator in the couple’s upscale condo and was expected to have them done by the time they arrived home each night.

  She remembered coming home early from school that day, her tummy cramping, head aching, and laying down on the cool leather of the sofa. She awoke to clammy hands pushing her tank top down over her newly budded breasts, grabbing and squeezing even as a heavy weight settled over her prone body and a wet mouth ground her lips against her teeth.

  Her eyes flew open and she began to struggle as Mr. Baker panted in her ear, “Come on honey, open your mouth for me, you know you want it. You’ve been flaunting your sexy little body in front of me since you arrived here, time to share it.”

  Sara panicked as his hands roved over her, pushing and prodding. She tried to knee him in the crotch but only succeeded in letting him settle deeper between her thighs, his disgusting hard-on pushing against her panties where her skirt had ridden up in the struggle.

  He laughed, “That’s it, baby, I knew you wanted me. We’re going to have a good time, you and I.”

  “Get off me, you asshole.” Sara cried as she bunted him in the face with her head. “Get off! I’m going to scream this place down in two seconds if you don’t get the fuck away from me.”

  “Tsk, tsk, is that the way young girls talk these days? No wonder no one wants to keep you, you have no respect.” His hand slipped down between her legs while his other hand restrained hers between their bodies. When she peeled her lips back to scream his slimy tongue entered her mouth, and Sara began to gag in shocked terror.

  At that moment, she felt something hard hit her cheek and then a muffled thwump as it connected with the creep’s skull. As he rolled away from her, Sara could hear the screeching tones of Mrs. Baker freaking out at both of them, as if Sara had asked for this. Mr. Baker, the asshole, stood there calmly straightening his shirt and slicking back his comb-over hairdo.

  The authorities took her away the same day, with a big black mark on her reports. After that no one wanted to let her in their homes, as if she carried the plague or something, until Frank Harley, the art teacher at the school she currently attended, stepped up to give her a chance.

  Sara, starved for affection, yet leery of trusting anyone, slowly came to realize Frank’s heart was every bit as big as his body. The two of them spent hours together while Frank taught her the joy of painting in his workshop studio. She loved learning the techniques and found she had a natural talent for it. The next few years flew by, with Sara for the first time in her young life, thriving under the love of a parent figure. Her grades went up, her friends increased, but more than that, her confidence grew.

  Frank was justifiably proud of her and encouraged her to pursue a career as an artist. He had a number of influential friends in the industry that thought Sara gifted. One day he introduced her to Fiona Bradshaw, the owner of a very swanky art gallery downtown. Fiona, only a couple of years older than Sara, was a human dynamo. A pixie, with peaches and cream complexion and fiery red hair that flowed to the bottom of her waist, Fiona had made herself a name in the art world by finding new up and coming artists to catch the attention of Boston’s elite, and she wanted Sara.

  The two women became fast friends, and spent hours gossiping and laughing together as they prepared Sara’s work for exhibition. Then a few months before the big night, Sara came home from the gallery to find Frank sprawled out on the floor of the living room. Even as she fell to her knees beside him, frantically calling 911 on her cell, she knew it was too late he was gone.

  The slamming of the back door and a wet nose nudging her hand brought Sara crashing back to her kitchen. Jake seemed to sense all the turmoil in the room and whined. Sara patted him absently and gazed after Nick’s retreating back, realizing she hadn’t answered him. He’d probably taken it as a rejection. She wanted to follow, explain how his betrayal made her feel, but the words caught in her aching chest and her feet stayed rooted to the floor.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sara woke late the next morning after a fitful sleep, not surprised to find an empty echo to the house. She wandered out of her room after attempting to revive herself in a long hot shower to find someone had left a full pot of coffee for her. She gratefully poured a steaming mug full before heading over to the slim phone hanging on the wall.

  “Hey, Annie, it’s me. How’s my baby girl doing?”

  “Oh, she’s great. I haven’t seen the two of them all morning. They’re in the back room painting, hopefully not my walls!” She laughed.

  A picture of her friend going back to a room painted all the colors of a rainbow sprung to mind and a grin lit her face. Poor Annie.

  “Okay then, I’m going to finish my coffee and then I’ll be over, I could use a good laugh.”

  “Well, I’m your girl, see you soon.”

  Sara replaced the phone in its cradle and leaned against the wall, nuzzling the warm mug against her cheek. She noticed the printed out files and notes spread all over her table from last night were gone, replaced with an enormous bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers, their cheerful stems rising from the old glass pitcher she’d made ice tea in that day, was it only three weeks ago? So much had happened since then, good and bad.

  She guessed both the flowers and the coffee were from Nick, an apology of sorts. She believed him when he said he never wished to hurt her. But how could she be with a man she couldn’t trust?

  Curiosity had her rolling away from the wall to walk through her living room to the only set of windows, which looked out over her pretty front yard to Nick’s place across the street. She pushed aside the heavy cotton curtains the house had come with, and yes, there it was. His oversized truck took up most of the space on the road. A plain Jane brown four door sedan sat quietly in its shadow.

  She’d missed him last night. Talking to him, laughing with him, making love under him. His presence filled her home, from the tap he’d stopped from dripping in her kitchen, to a discarded jean jacket on the back of the sofa, and the still faint pine-fresh scent of him on her sheets. She’d ended up hugging his pillow last night as she tried to settle down to sleep, tears clogging her throat, but all that had done was make her yearn for him. His husky voice as he whispered what he was going to do to her. His bristly chin as it rubbed against her aching breasts wh
ile his teeth nipped and lips sucked, his muscular body molding her slighter one close. The feel of him when he’d filled her, the moans and sighs as they strove to breach this world, and enter one made only for them. The knowledge that she was his, and he hers. Yes, she missed him.

  Brushing away tears she hadn’t even realized were falling, Sara let the curtain slide closed, scooped up her keys and went out the door to Mirabelle. A few false starts later, she coughed and choked her way to life, sounding like a three pack a day factory worker, and they were off in a hail of blue smoke. No sneaking away in this old girl. She caught sight of Nick and Frank through her rear view mirror as they walked out his front door and almost braked. Really though, what was there to say? So instead she goosed the gas, and with a burp and a fart, Mirabelle gave a gratifying leap away.

  Pulling up in front of The Craft Shack a few minutes later, Sara sat for a second and admired the new window display. Annie had played well on the country theme by placing an old provincial wooden rocking chair in one corner draped with a beautiful handmade wedding ring quilt done in soft rose and white. An antique side table covered by a crocheted tablecloth edged with pink roses, and an English tea set beside an old, leather bound book looked warm and welcoming. A Tiffany table lamp finished the display. Its shade threw prisms of light made of many different colored pieces of glass shaped into dragonflies.

  Sara could see herself rocking that chair as she sipped tea and enjoying the mountain view.

  Annie’s shop was a beacon to the women of Tidal Falls and maintained a steady business going by the flow of traffic through its doors. Some of that could be attributed to her sunny personality though. To be around Annie Campbell for a few minutes was akin to a day at the fair, it brought a smile to all.

  Sara opened the door and stepped through, catching a little tinkle from the bells set above and the cheerful chatter of at least ten women browsing the shelves for the latest patterns or most colorful wools. Towards the back, Sara could see Annie’s brown bob as she bent over one customer showing her the intricacies of knitting. She glanced up at the sound of the bell and, seeing Sara, motioned over her shoulder to the door tucked neatly in the corner of the room.

  Smiling her thanks, Sara navigated the busy front end and ducked through the back to see Jessica and Chris up to their elbows in colors of blue, green and magenta as they endeavored to cover every square inch of the giant poster board Annie must have laid out on the floor for them. The leafy, lemon smell of children’s paints filled the room with the aroma of simpler times.

  “Yes Chris, like that, that’s a perfect tree. Now you should put a house underneath it, one like you hope you and your Mom can have one day. How about a castle?”

  “I was going to do that, but I’m going to make a tree fort instead, way cooler.”

  Sara chuckled under her breath as Jess rolled her eyes at the obvious boy answer.

  “That’s silly, how are you going to live in a tree house? It’ll be too small for all your stuff.”

  “Then I’ll make a giant one, and it’ll be the best house in the whole wide world. If you’re not nice to me I won’t let you in.”

  “Oh yeah, well I’m making a pretty pink house filled with dolls and boys aren’t allowed because they’re dumb.” Jess replied, standing and putting her hands on her hips for emphasis, immediately tie-dying what once were pristine white shorts.

  Before the war could start, Sara moved further into the large shop-like space, her heels click clacking on the cement floor bringing the children’s heads around.

  “Mommy, look what we made, Chris helped too.” Jessica held her arms wide, ever the drama queen, all the friction gone in an instant.

  “Looks like you two have been busy. Good job, you guys. I think you’re going to put me out of work one day. Everyone will be buying your paintings instead of mine.”

  “That’s okay, Mom, Chris and me will take care of you.” Jess said and tears welled as Sara realized she wasn’t alone in this world at all. Instead she’d been blessed to have the most beautiful child to ever grace this planet, with real friends such as Fiona, Annie, Tess and Grace. She even had the support of Nick and his friends, at least until this nightmare with Tom were over.

  “I’m going to go and have a quick cup of coffee with Chris’s Mom and then we’ll get going, alright, Peanut?”

  “Sure, Mom, we need to finish this anyway so it can dry. Come on, Chris, I was thinking, what about a dog, maybe like Jake?” They turned and ran back over to their masterpieces. Sara swiped at her tears—now they’d started she couldn’t get them to quit— and went in search of the coffee machine in Annie’s cluttered office.

  “Hey, sorry about that, I’ve just started a new class on beginner knitting, which by the way you should come to, it’s a blast, and had to help Mrs. Robinson learn how to make a slip knot before casting on.” Annie blew into the room; a mini tornado in a handmade moss green tunic stretching to slim thighs covered in black leggings and ballet flats.

  She grabbed up her favorite coffee cup, a bright yellow with a giant black happy face, and set it under her well-loved Keurig machine. Picking a capsule, she set it in its slot, pushed the button, and closed her eyes, inhaling the fresh ground smell as the liquid splashed into her mug.

  “Mm heaven, nothing quite like a good cup of Joe on a busy day, is there? So tell me all about it. How did you and Mr. Irresistible spend your evening? Laundry, dishes, mowing the lawn? Yeah, I didn’t think so.” She grinned at the bemused look on Sara’s face. “I’m kidding, I don’t want to know, and besides my virgin ears couldn’t handle the details. I wouldn’t know what to do with a man if I had one.”

  Sara burst out laughing. “Well you must have known one at least once, the proof is in the back room.” A shadow darkened her friend’s eyes for a brief moment before disappearing away, the usual sunny look filling the bright green orbs.

  “True that, but we’re all allowed one mistake, not that I’m sorry, I won the lotto with Chris.”

  “Funny you should say that, I was thinking the same thing a minute ago, we are lucky, aren’t we.” Sara sat on the edge of the overflowing desk, store samples, a leftover donut box and papers galore fighting over the small space with Annie’s oversized ancient computer system. “If you have a moment, I’d like to fill you in on what’s been going on. I don’t want to keep it hidden anymore.”

  “That sounds ominous. Yeah, I have as much time as you need. Chief Garrett’s daughter, Tina, is helping me out right now, so I’m good. Let me catch the door so we have some privacy first.” She used her foot to close it and then plunked down in the room’s only other seat, a squeaky rollaway vinyl office chair that threatened to break at any moment.

  “Okay, shoot.”

  “I don’t really know where to start. I was in a bad marriage. My ex-husband is a very powerful man in Boston, a U.S. Attorney. He’s made some very influential friends over the years, not all of them on the right side of the law. When I found out what he was involved in I knew I had to get out of there. He didn’t agree, so we ran, all the way across the country to here.” She looked down at the floor, absently noticing the scuffmarks and donut crumbs before settling on a blue crayon scribble on the opposite wall, reminding her why this was so important.

  “Long story short, he called my cell last night and said he’s taken my best friend as a hostage until I return something I took from him. I’m scared he’ll hurt her the way he hurt me. And before you ask, I also found out Nick knows Tom, my ex, from a long time ago, and conveniently forgot to mention it to me. He did call in some of his friends to help me, but I don’t know. I don’t think I can trust him anymore.”

  “Honey, that sucks. I thought you and Nick were going to last, he has that look whenever he sees you. Maybe after all this gets sorted out, you could sit down together and talk? I think he’s a good guy, Sara, unlike some.” She muttered.

  “As to that creep you married, it sounds as if he needs a comeuppance and I’d be wil
ling to bet Nick is the man for the job, so take him up on it. Listen, why don’t you let Jessica stay with Chris and me for a while? We’re happy to have her and it would free up your time for more important things, like nailing the sucker.” Annie grinned ferociously.

  “Oh, Annie, are you sure? That’d be such a relief; I’d know she’s safe. I was going to ask Tess but with her right next-door I’m scared Tom might find her. I don’t think he’d ever discover her here, but then I didn’t think he would find us in Tidal Falls either.”

  “I’m sure, we’ll be fine. Who’s going to look in a little craft store for her? It’s a good plan, don’t worry.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nick stared after Sara’s wreck of a car as it hiccupped and belched its way down the street. Had she noticed the flowers he’d begged old Mr. Abraham down the block to part with? He’d never brought flowers to a woman before, well discounting the dandelion and daisy bouquet he’d proudly picked for his mother as a child. Hurt and frustrated last night when she’d refused to acknowledge his apology he’d stormed out as if he was still that little boy not getting his own way. After another sleepless night, his second in a row—though he couldn’t complain about the first one—he didn’t know what was up and what was down. He understood her hesitancy, but at the same time, was she going to give up on them at the first bump in the road? That didn’t bode well for their future. He’d spent half his life believing love was a myth. Then came Sara. Now he was afraid she was sliding through his fingers, and he wanted to grab and hold on for all he was worth.

  The hard, heavy clap of Frank’s hand as it landed on his shoulder reminded Nick why they had stepped out the door in the first place. Right, luggage.

  “She’ll come around, give her some space. Sorry if I created some discord between you two, that wasn’t my intention. I’m open to anything you can come up with that will work better. But know this, if she does help us, we’ll make double damn sure nothing goes wrong, okay?”