“Ooh,” she hissed and pressed a hand to her side. Tinker Belly was active today. It felt like a soccer match going on inside her.
Carrying a baby wasn’t anything like she imagined. Each trimester was a full bag of surprises. The view from her third term showed her looking at the finish line with excited nervousness. Doing this thing alone was the hardest thing she’d ever faced.
“Knock, knock, Summer dear. Are you decent?”
Summer’s head swung, and she looked toward the front door. Her landlady, Lynda, was closing it behind her. “I’ve brought babka,” she gleefully announced while holding up a pink bakery box tied with twine.
“Don’t tell Bud,” Lynda sniggered.
“Why?” Summer asked. “Is he doing keto again?”
Lynda’s deep laugh had a mocking quality. The longtime married couple was so adorable Summer thought they should have a sitcom or a web show.
“Oh, pfft. No. He just doesn’t need to know what else I picked up when I went to the bakery for tonight’s challah.”
Bustling around the kitchen running the length of a long wall, Lynda opened and closed a drawer and a cabinet. Then she marched into the living room and put everything in front of Summer on the table.
Before she did anything else, Lynda bent over and spoke to the baby bump.
“Good morning Tinker Belly. Knowing how much your mother loves sugar and cinnamon, I’ve brought you two some babka. It’s the food of my people,” she added with a laugh. “When you get here, I’m going to teach you the proper way to nosh.”
Summer laughed and patted her belly. “What would we do without you, bubelah?”
Lynda’s hand came forward and touched Summer’s cheek. “You look tired. Are you sleeping okay?”
She rolled a shoulder. “I guess. It’s hard to get comfy, and when I do, it’s not long before I have to change position.”
“Motherhood.” The kind stranger who welcomed her in the middle of the night with open arms chuckled. “Not the journey you imagined, eh?”
“The next person who acts like gestating a baby human is a walk in the park is going to get my foot up their ass.”
“Hear, hear,” Lynda drawled. “Now, how about some babka?”
“A small piece, please. Don’t want to waste my brown sugar toast.”
“I wonder if Tink has a sweet tooth. What do you think? I remember craving salad when I was pregnant with Brigit. Big green salads with every add-on I could find in the kitchen. It never seemed like a big deal until fifteen years later when my daughter decided her preferred diet was vegetarian. That was fun,” Lynda sniggered. “The girl literally came home from school one day and announced she was going meat-free. I thought Bud would stroke out because you know him—the grill king of Sherman Oaks wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he couldn’t throw ribs and burgers on the barbie.”
“Are you suggesting Tinker Belly might become a chocolatier or a female Willy Wonka?” She snorted with laughter. “Strangely enough, I can see it.”
They sat quietly, enjoying the tasty doughy treat. Lynda was the person to be around when you just want to be chill. She didn’t fidget or crowd every second with chatter.
In an odd way, it was like hanging with Arnie.
Arnie. Shit. She sighed and applied a good portion of her will into blocking his memory. If she was going to survive, being ruthless about her wandering thoughts was a priority.
“We should put a nice, big, potted bush or a tree right out there in the corner,” Lynda murmured. She was pointing out the window. “Something green and lush will add to the view.” She turned to Summer with a smile on her face. “Don’t you think?”
She peered out the wide window and visualized a green display. There was certainly enough room despite a good portion of the backyard area taken up by a pool and hot tub.
“Something with color might be nice. Lots of options for trees in planters. You could even do a lemon tree. That way, you’d get the visual and fruit as a bonus. More bang for the landscaping buck.”
“Ah ha ha,” Lynda chortled. “What a great way of putting it. You just gave me the perfect script for convincing Bud to take on another project.”
Summer laughed along. “That’d make a great slogan for a landscape business.”
She rubbed her tummy and shifted on the chair. “Tinker Belly is active today. I think she’s doing somersaults in there.”
“A little gymnast? Just like her mommy. How precious.”
She snorted and pressed her fingers against the spot where the baby was thumping. “Yeah, real precious,” she drawled. “Is it possible to be black and blue on the inside?”
Lynda regarded Summer’s large baby bump. “She’s gonna be a big girl. Isn’t that what the obstetrician said?”
“Yes. At my last ultrasound, the nurse made a huge deal about her length and weight.”
In a gentle, encouraging voice, her new friend murmured, “So, she takes after her daddy too, eh?”
Biting her lip to stop the sudden rush of tears she feared was about to happen, Summer clasped her hands together and squeezed. The damn pregnancy hormones did not help.
“Lynda”—she sighed—“I can’t go there.”
Scooting her chair closer, Lynda brushed some hair behind Summer’s shoulder and patted her clasped hands. Their eyes met.
“Honey, are you absolutely sure …?”
“Don’t say it,” Summer pleaded. “Please.”
“I understand.” Lynda nodded. “But let me just say this, okay?”
She scowled but not because she didn’t care what her new friend thought. Summer’s scowl had everything to do with the agony she felt whenever the subject turned to her baby’s father.
“O-okay,” she stammered. “Motherly guidance couldn’t hurt.”
“Good girl,” Lynda said with a smile.
Summer tried very, very hard to forget someone else saying those very same words.
“Things aren’t always as simple as appearances suggest. Oh, don’t frown so,” Lynda scolded when Summer’s expression turned dour. “Let me finish before you get all grumpy.”
“Baby daddy conversations are not my favorite.”
In fact, she was sick of hearing it from her brother. It pissed her off every time Reed went off on one of his “Imma kick that motherfucker’s ass” rants.
“Yes, well, I’m relatively sure the input you’re getting from the opposite sex runs along angry, confrontational lines. I’m here to offer a different view.”
“What view is that?”
“The view from a woman’s heart.” Lynda leaned closer and rubbed Summer’s belly. “Hon, here it is. I’ve heard the story from a bunch of different angles. Your version. Cy and Joanne’s perspective. Even Reed’s take.”
Summer swallowed hard. Where was Lynda going with this?
“Nowhere in any of those versions is there a single mention of this man having done something threatening. To hear you talk, I would say there was never a moment of doubt or regret on either of your parts. Is it possible he doesn’t know any of this?”
“Of course it’s possible!” Summer vehemently popped off without warning. “When someone simply vanishes, anything is possible. For all I know, he was a visiting alien called back to the mothership. Or a time-traveling Viking, for Pete’s sake.”
“Both sound terribly romantic, dear.”
“Oh, jeez, Lynda. What do you want me to say? If I knew what the hell was going on, I wouldn’t be in the endangered mother’s underground. I don’t know where he is or why I haven’t heard from him. All I know for sure is someone he knows threatened me and tried to buy my baby. Nothing romantic about that.”
“Maybe you haven’t heard from him because he isn’t clairvoyant and doesn’t realize you have a burner phone.”
Lynda’s words struck a chord.
She glanced at the framed photograph of Merlin’s cave hanging on the living room wall. Her eyes dropped to a tabletop shadow box wher
e she kept the treasured memories she picked up the day they hiked to her special place. Other than a few special crystals, these things were all she had of her former life.
Her thought, as strange as it was? Maybe there were other less conventional ways to communicate.
“What am I supposed to do?” she softly wailed. “I’m so confused. I don’t know why he went away like he did.” She put a hand over her heart. “In here, I want to believe he has an explanation.” Then she shrugged and touched her forehead to indicate her mind had a different view. “It’s not like I can call him, so this discussion is moot.”
“You could try reaching out to him at work.”
“No can do,” Summer said. “The business card is blank, and an internet search comes back with zilch.”
“Oh, Summer. Don’t be naïve. There’s always a number.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it, dear. That little piece of stationery is a calling card. Yes, it’s blank, but a blank card is an invitation.”
She ran what Lynda was saying through her churning thoughts. Everything about Arnie Templeton screamed normal. He didn’t come off as furtive or sneaky. But there was a different side of the man. Was NIGHTWIND the key?
Pinning Lynda with a look, she asked point-blank, “What is it I don’t know? I can tell there’s something, so don’t blow sunshine up my skirt.”
“Ask the Sergeant Major.”
“Cyrus? Are you serious? He knows something and hasn’t told me?”
“Men,” Lynda snidely drawled.
“Where’s my phone?” Summer barked.
Lynda smirked. She stood, patted Summer on the cheek, and said, “He’s expecting your call. I gave him a courtesy heads-up.”
Before the door closed on Lynda’s retreat, Summer initiated a call to Cy. She was going to give him a piece of her mind if he’d been keeping anything from her. Didn’t everyone realize the emotional toll this whole thing was taking on her and the baby? She’d had enough of threats, secrets, and lies and let ’er rip the second Cy answered.
“Goddammit, Cy! If I weren’t pregnant, I’d kick your ass.”
“Now, slow down, missy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, stop it. Lynda told me she gave you a heads-up. What do you know, Sergeant Major? Spill your guts, or I’m telling Joanne you’re smoking cigarettes again.”
He sputtered and made all sorts of noises. “How the hell do you even know that?”
She had no idea how she knew. The words came out of nowhere.
“Cy, I’m warning you. Tell me what you know.”
“All right, all right. Calm down, though. Getting all riled up isn’t good for you or the baby.”
She stood as quickly as her big belly would allow. “Do not tell me to calm down.”
Were all men just stupid? Didn’t they know those words should never ever come out of their brain-dead mouths?
“My bad, my bad,” Cy muttered. “Is it okay to suggest a deep breath?”
Summer counted to five and reset the scene. She wanted answers, not overprotective bullshit.
“From the top, if you don’t mind,” she said as reasonably as possible.
“Well, okay,” Cy mumbled. “Um, let’s see. Where to begin? I guess the best way to start is with the good news.”
There was good news? Relief flooded her body.
“This NIGHTWIND place is a real thing, Summer. So real that they have zero social media presence and operate in layers of secrecy, leaving no doubt they aren’t to be fucked with.”
She smiled. How messed up was that?
“As for the man, your Arnie Templeton is real. I’m pretty sure that’s his cloak and dagger name. Hit the classified wall when I tried to dig further, but this much I’m sure of. He has deep roots inside national security and a top secret government designation.”
So he hadn’t lied or deliberately misled her about his name. Goose bumps of happiness prickled her skin. “Anything else?” she asked quietly.
“No. I had to stop when I hit the security wall. The last thing I need is to trip a warning light and attract the attention of the feds.”
Summer’s brows went up at the sound of something new and unexpected in Cy’s voice. She knew respect when she heard it. For whatever reason, he’d come down from the angry ledge where he threatened to neuter the guy who knocked her up. Was Sergeant Major Cyrus Westmoreland on Team Magnum?
At the local branch of the public library, Summer logged in to her student profile account, found her official grades from the last semester, and sent a screenshot of it to her flash drive. To make it hard to track her, the laptop she used for school was locked away for safekeeping. She’d sent all her final assignments to the college from the library’s IP address. There was a risk she was giving away her location but blew off the concern.
After all her hard work and effort, it was a bit of a shock to discover she only managed mediocre grades—not that she should have been surprised. Finding out she was pregnant just as the term began and then going into hiding halfway through had a way of affecting her schoolwork.
The crushing weight of doing everything by herself without help and only minimal emotional backup swept through her. A feeling of solidarity with struggling women through the ages stiffened her spine. She wasn’t the first girl to get swept away by love and end up alone and pregnant, and she most definitely would not be the last.
It was tough, and a lot of days sucked, but everything would be worth it when she finally got to hold her little girl for the first time. She also wasn’t without resources and had the security of knowing that whatever happened, she had enough saved up and squirreled away to give her some breathing room—if she needed it.
When she was finished, Summer packed up her stuff and slid the flash drive into her purse. Standing, she placed a hand in the small of her back as a deep ache brought her up short.
“Ow.”
What the hell was that?
Imagining way too many desperate scenarios, she shut down the negative thinking and focused on how she felt.
After she did a mental full-body scan, her anxiety lessened. Everything felt normal except for some discomfort in her back and along her side. It wasn’t new, and she’d mentioned it to her doctors at the clinic. They told her increased back curve and posture changes due to the weight distribution of her hugely pregnant belly were the likely causes.
Time ceased to matter after Arnie had vanished from her life. It was as though her mind just couldn’t wrap itself around life without him in it. As a result, autumn seemed a long way off, and the wait for her October due date felt like an eternity.
The summer season was in full swing with soaring temperatures, sunny days, and blue skies, but she cared little for the weather forecast. Every day was the same. Every day she was still alone.
Waddling from the library, she made it to her car right before melting. The heat didn’t usually bother her, but having a baby oven strapped to her belly raised her body temperature. She struggled into the Hyundai’s driver’s seat, started the engine, and waited for the A/C to cool her down.
Tink sent an elbow or a foot stabbing into Summer’s side. She rubbed the tender spot and made a deal with her energetic daughter.
“Mommy needs you to chill for a little bit, okay? We have a few more errands, but after that, I promise we’ll go home and get in the pool. How’s that?”
Summer took the fluttering in her belly as a sign of pleasure. Tinker Belly loved the water. With a pool steps from her back door, she made good use of the opportunity to swim. The weightless feeling helped ease her aching back, and she’d noticed how the baby seemed to settle and calm.
Since there was every possibility that she and Arnie made their baby the night he ravished her in the bungalow’s pool and made fierce, passionate love to her on a lounger, outside under the stars, she couldn’t pretend surprise that their daughter was drawn to the water.
As the temp
erature inside the car dropped to an acceptable level, and the baby stopped dancing in her womb, she belted in and headed out. When she got home, the first thing she planned to do was call the clinic and make an appointment. Afterward, she and bump could spend the rest of the afternoon floating.
18
Remembering to keep his pinky extended, Arnie tipped the pink teacup toward his mouth three times, making sure to add the appropriate sipping sounds.
Nicole Foster smiled at him across the kid-size table set with a cheap plastic tea party set. “More?” his charming companion asked as she lifted the baby blue teapot and poured.
He had a baseball cap on, turned backward, and a neon yellow boa of feathers wrapped around his neck. At Nic’s insistence, he donned several pieces of plastic jewelry to complete the look. He especially liked the red heart-shaped clip-on plastic earrings—his tea date thought they made him look like a pirate.
Sitting at the small, low table presented several challenges. His knees were practically at his chin, and as if the position wasn’t awkward enough, he worried his adult male ass was too much for the Lilliputian seating. At any moment, he expected to end up sprawled on the floor either because his weight broke the chair or he toppled over.
“Uncle Arnie?”
A joyful tap dance broke out in the area around his heart. He felt a little foolish for falling so hard and fast for a kid, but such was his current reality.
“What’s on your mind, Nic?”
With the seriousness of a five-star restaurant’s waitstaff, she used a plastic fork to pick up a triangle wedge of strawberry shortcake and placed it on the tiny plate in front of him.
“Will you talk to King about letting us get a baby?”
If the shortcake he was pretending to eat had been real, he was dead fucking sure her direct question might have caused him to choke to death.
Bursting with grown-up eloquence, he mumbled, “Uh,” and marveled at how neatly the preschool kid cornered him.
“Jack is being a, a, boy,” she griped. “He says we’re not allowed to ask for a baby, but I think he’s just dumb. Boys don’t get it.”
Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3) Page 34