by Mimi Barbour
In the meantime, Yaya pulled back the cover on the sofa and waited for Jesse to lay her mother down. Then the precocious sweetheart covered her groaning mother, tucking the hand-made afghan around her body.
Her tiny hand reached to pat her cheeks and Jesse watched as the woman took the hand and gave it a kiss.
Her voice throaty and wobbling, she said. “Mama’s okay now, Layla. I’m sorry I scared you, honey. I shouldn’t have tried to stand up when I was so dizzy. I guess I fainted.” She pushed the wildly unkempt hair from her daughter’s face. “Who’s your friend?”
Layla crawled up beside her mother on the sofa and cuddled. She sniffed and said, her little-girl’s voice heartbreaking, “Jesse’s weally not a stranger, mommy. He’s Kimmy’s brother.”
Jessie watched the byplay, amusement filling up the space where fright had resided only moments earlier.
He braced himself to be interrogated. But he didn’t ready himself for the effect of the biggest, cat-like eyes of soft emeralds highlighted by diamonds he’d ever seen—like mother, like daughter. The surrounding face appeared colorless which, no doubt, greatly enhanced the beauties under her thick lashes. The woman’s feverish appearance worried him, which had him reaching for his cellphone.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling for an ambulance.”
“Don’t! Stop!” Her arm reached his way and her hand waved at him.
So, she wasn’t that far gone. He lifted his finger before pressing send. “No choice. You were passed out. I’m not a doctor but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you need one.”
“I went to my doctor this morning. He’s an idiot with a diagnosis that’s ridiculous.” She spit the words toward him while struggling to sit upright and not disturb Layla.
Impressed with the kind way she behaved toward her daughter, he watched her caring maneuvers. Until her assertive nature flashed annoyance in his direction, then he began to fear for his safety.
Jesse’s hands lifted automatically with his palms facing her. He stepped back once and then again, careful to get out of the path of her raising ire.
Shoulder-length blonde hair, caught under her chin and spread over her shoulders, looked neglected and not at all attractive. In fact, nothing about this skinny broad looked appetising to Jesse other than her eyes.
A voice inside nudged him to leave, get out while he still had the chance. Paying attention to the familiar warning, as he’d done since a young fellow, he put the phone away. “If you don’t like this guy, go to another doctor.” Damn, he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut! His feet took over and moved him another step back.
“I no longer have health insurance. I take what I can get at the closest free clinic and that leaves me stuck with the pathetic numbskull who swore I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome because he hadn’t a clue to what my problem really is. Look, it’s obvious you want to leave. Go! We’re fine now. I haven’t been able to eat anything, so I feel weaker than usual. If I rest for a few minutes, I’ll be fine.”
Layla sat up and looked at Jesse, fear written over her face as plain as if she’d screamed the words ‘Don’t leave me!’
The little darling, whose pants looked to be on backwards and whose t-shirt had stains of milk mixed with peanut butter, left her mother’s side and stepped toward him. She took his hand, moving slowly in case he scared her.
Caught! He was sinking and he knew it. While annoyance blistered his insides, he didn’t have the skill to cover it up. The woman saw his struggle and the cocky grin she shared with him didn’t quite make up for his frustration. She’d most likely been at the mercy of these eyes a time or two herself.
Stiffening his determination to not get involved, he crouched down and waited, not wanting to send Layla scuttling for cover.
The girl’s blonde hair, white gold stuck out all her over her head in thick straight spikes, looked as if a lawn mower had gone berserk. Her timidity seemed faked and for a few seconds, he wondered if he was being played by a genius.
“Will you help us like Auntie Kimmy does? She makes us supper when mommy isn’t feeling good.”
Jesse looked toward the grinning patient on the couch for help and got back a smirking shrug. Stiffening his spine, he began to shake his head and refuse Layla’s plea.
That was when the little darling stepped in-between his opened knees, stared up into his eyes and said the one word designed to crumple his resolve.
“Ple-ease!”
Chapter Three
Belle watched as, Jesse Parker, the handsome brother of her friend from down the hall tried to hold his own against a master at manipulation. Her Yaya, the little actress, had skills even she hadn’t seen yet. Probably came from watching too much of the idiot box on the stand in the corner. Not Belle’s first choice, but this ongoing sickness had loosened her restrictions both on herself and Yaya.
Belle saw Jesse look her way and his confused yet gentle gray eyes almost proved to be her downfall. Almost….
Kim tended to brag about her brother, a lot. In truth, she’d started to promote him like a hot movie or a best-selling novel and this type of behavior turned Belle right off. She’d gotten so fed up with the blah, blah that she’d hoped never to have to meet the guy who was perfection in jeans according to his enamoured sibling. Belle didn’t believe anyone could live up to that kind of hype. Now she wasn’t so sure. The dude was priceless in his interaction with Yaya.
Jesse’s look begged for help. Bored, and needing some form of entertainment, Belle kind of wanted him to stick around as much as her little princess. Being picked up in his strong arms as if she weighed nothing, which unfortunately was the case, had her libido sending out hot little signals.
Scared he’d read her response in her reddened face, Belle looked at her dry, chapped hands and then hid them. Under her breath, she grumbled a favorite phrase, one she’d learned from her English father as a teenager. “Bloody hell!” Why did she have to look her worst and feel the same?
Her grumbling comment snared Jesse’s attention for only a few seconds. Then he turned back to the matter at hand, trying to make Yaya understand his predicament. “Look sunshine, I’m not like my sister. I’m a rotten cook.”
Just as Belle knew would happen, Yaya had the perfect solution. “That’s okay. We could order pizza.”
Bingo! Her baby loved pizza. Feeling sorry for Jesse, Belle broke into their conversation. “Hold it, Yaya. You can’t force Mr. Parker to take pity on us and arrange dinner. I’ll make something in a little while.”
With his eyebrow raised and his head cocked, Jesse turned her way, questioning her sanity. Then he spoke. “You’re definitely not up to cooking tonight, Miss… ahhh Belle. I’ll order some pizza like Layla suggested, and we can share.” His shrug spoke to her and made her grin. If shoulders could talk, his were saying, “what the hell! It’s just for a little while and then I’m outta here.”
Before she could argue, Layla, the little monkey, danced her glee jig and clapped her hands. “We’re having pizza. Yay!”
Belle sifted her fingers through her mop of loose hair and flipped it to the side. She had no money to pay for the pizza Yaya now had her heart set on. “That’s really nice of you, Jesse, but it’s out of our budget.”
“My treat,” he said, in a nice way, obviously not wanting to embarrass her any further.
Belle realized that Yaya had stopped talking and was physically holding her breath. How could she disappoint since her baby hardly ever got treats anymore.
“Then we accept and with pleasure. By the way, my name is Belle Foster and this little monster is Layla, more often known as Yaya.”
He looked her way and Belle noticed his perusal of her skinny body in jeans too large and a sweater too big. Damn but this sickness had turned her into a scarecrow, someone she didn’t recognize.
She hated that her young life had been reduced to a quagmire of health problems. Apparently, problems with no answers, or at least none she’
d found.
Life had been good until one day earlier in the year. She’d noticed certain symptoms had worsened to where she had trouble coping with anything and everything. Her stomach, always a little unsettled, became her worst enemy.
Sick days, never used until this dilemma, had finally run out and she had to give up her job. As much as her boss wanted her to stay, they both agreed that being continuously short-staffed in the daycare hurt the kids and was unfair to the other workers.
Illness not only invaded, it wouldn’t let up. Each day it had gotten worse, to where she lived in a constant fog of indecision and fear. What would happen to her baby if she couldn’t beat this crisis?
Downsizing to save money, she’d moved into this building, met up with Kim Parker and things had improved slightly.
With Kim around, Belle didn’t feel quite so alone in dealing with her difficulties. Her new friend had gotten into the habit of stopping by before breakfast and after work so she could organize meals for her and Layla. On Belle’s worst days, she’d even wash their clothes and spend time housecleaning so that the untidiness wasn’t as bad.
On the days that Belle felt better, she’d cook meals and bake, then freeze it all to use when she was worse. A vicious circle of bad and not-so-bad had them in its clutches.
Money was tight, and if it weren’t for her savings and the help she got from the government, she didn’t know what she’d do. Mind you, that wouldn’t last forever.
While being coached by the tiny pro-pizza fan, Jesse placed the order for their meal. Yaya, glowing from his unexpected attention, ran to get the dolls she’d coerced Jesse into showing some interest in meeting. While he waited for her to return, he came to perch on the chair kitty-corner to the sofa where Belle spent far too much time.
He spoke low as if afraid that Yaya would hear. “Have you eaten anything at all today? You look kinda frail.”
“You mean skinny.”
“You said it, not me.” Again his hands shot up.
She laughed surprised at how much better the levity made her feel. “I had some crackers earlier. When I get like this, it’s all I can eat. But then the pains get bad and my stomach revolts.”
Belle had no idea what made her tell him the truth about her condition. Usually, she made up some fib about the flu and changed the subject. After all, no one liked to hear doom and gloom and health bitches, especially from a twenty-five-year-old.
Before he could answer, Layla re-appeared dragging her chest of baby dolls and the clothes Belle had made for them. While Jesse exclaimed over all the tiny crocheted outfits that Yaya held up for his inspection, Belle reached for the plate of biscuits and started to nibble.
Jesse hand moved like greased lightning as he stopped her from taking the next bite.
“Are these made with wheat?”
“I think so. They’re soda crackers.”
“You say that’s all you’ve eaten today?”
“I guess so. Everything else I try seems to upset me. I had toast yesterday and fruit but it didn’t sit well. It’s crazy. When I eat very little, it’s not so bad. Then, when I get so hungry I’m forced to try something, I choose the blandest stuff I can. No spicy foods, no grease. My stomach is so tender, even fruit and vegetables go right through. It’s horrible.” Belle’s voice broke and she had to stop. His sympathy had undone her like no one else’s, and she had the insane notion that if she crawled over on his lap and just snuggled into his arms, she’d be better. Tears sprung, emotions attacked and she had to hide her face. Without thinking, she lifted the cracker to take another bite.
He tackled her hand before it reached her mouth and stopped her. “Don’t.” His tone caught her attention and she stopped.
“Why not? I certainly can’t eat the pizza.”
He held her hand gently and his thumb rubbed at the skin. “I have a young fellow who works with me sometimes; he’s an apprentice studying for his carpenter’s ticket. The guy natters on constantly and most times I shut him off but I remember him telling me about his mom being sick like you. Her symptoms were also food related. Seems she had a problem with eating things with wheat. Once they put her on a gluten-free diet, she started getting better. He called it Celiac.”
“I’ve heard of it, just never thought it had anything to do with me.” Her hand opened and the cracker fell to the floor. Then she entwined her fingers with his. “Oh my God! Could… could it be so simple?”
At her tone, Yaya hopped up from the floor, stopped dressing her baby doll with the little sweater-set she’d promised to show Jesse and ran to her mom. “What’s wrong, mommy?”
Belle lifted the little doll into her arms and hugged. With all the emotions flooding her system, joy mixed with trepidation and a good healthy fear that it might not be so; she had to hide her excitement.
Could it really be that simple?
Chapter Four
Jesse watched as Belle processed his information. He saw the anxiety that stayed after all the other feelings filtered through her thoughts. A strange urge possessed him that he had to fight against. The urge to take her on his knee, rock her against his body and whisper encouragement to believe. Sometimes things in life really were that uncomplicated.
The doorbell broke into the moment and Layla struggled out of her mother’s clinging arms and ran to his side. She reached for his hand to pull him to his feet. “The pizza man’s here, Jesse. We have to pay him and then we can eat. I’m so hungwy! Are you hungwy?”
Jesse grinned with delight. No wonder Kim wanted him to meet this darling. She knew he had a soft spot for angels with golden hair, big green eyes and a lisp.
After all, she’d been about Layla’s age and with the same precocious nature when she’d discovered that Jesse, five years older than her, couldn’t say no to her childish demands. He’d tried, many times, but her talent in using her eyes and her voice in just the perfect way was his downfall.
“Okay, sunshine. Let’s go pay the man and we’ll have dinner.”
A short time later, Layla had her pizza on a plate and was hunkered down on the floor beside her mom with her food on the coffee table.
“Do you want a bite, Mama? It’s de-licious! Jesse says I can eat it with my hands. So you can’t get mad at me. Right?”
Jesse knew he looked sheepish, tried to wipe the telltale sign off his face and failed dismally. “Pizza tastes better when you pick it up in your hands. I told her not to touch anything until she wipes away any mess she makes with her napkin.”
“It’s okay. I used to eat my pizza the same way.” Belle smiled at her little girl and ruffled her hair. Then she made as if to rise.
He stopped her. “You need to have something too. We can’t sit in front of you and gorge ourselves if you have no food. Look, do you have any eggs? I can make you a fairly plain omelet.”
“I do.” She swallowed before continuing. “Jesse I can’t thank you enough for being here in this emergency. For giving me hope when I… I had almost given up. You can’t know how much I want Celiac to be the answer.” Belle continued to sift her fingers through Yaya’s hair as her little girl enjoyed her special treat. “Tell the truth, I can’t stop thinking of the possibilities, and how it will improve our life.”
As Belle’s savior strode from the room, the sexy, manly sway of his hips caught her attention. Being able to read a person’s character, one of her better skills, let her know that he had no idea just how amazingly suggestive his movements were. Or that they might dazzle any red-blooded woman into shuddering reactions and erotic fantasies.
Belle stretched her cramped limbs and knew she should be in the kitchen helping, trying to do something for herself. However, the weakness that had flooded her system and brought on her faint hadn’t let up at all. She didn’t trust herself not to drop to the floor again. Guess a person can’t survive on a few crackers and milk for days on end.
Also, the thought of pulling the same stunt in front of Yaya kept her in a prone position with her legs
up. No way she wanted to terrify her child twice in a few hours.
As it was, her Yaya, who had always been a happy child, showed signs of becoming withdrawn and sad. Belle had even noticed the telltale trace of dried tears on her face when she’d caught her sneaking in from the hallway.
She questioned her and Yaya admitted to waiting for Kim who hadn’t been to visit for a number of days. For a three-year-old, explanations of her neighbor’s need to transfer to the other store, didn’t stick. In her mind, because she wanted Kim to appear like she’d always done, it should just happen. No doubt, the poor little doll felt safer with the other woman around and Belle didn’t blame her.
The doorbell rang once again and Yaya looked to her for permission to answer the summons. Before she could, Jesse reappeared with a questioning look. Belle nodded and he went to open the door to her caller.
A man in the uniform of the American armed forces waited impatiently. He had a cane in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. As soon as he spied her, he burst into the room, limping past Jesse to stop in front of her.
“Belle. Baby. I found you. Warned you I would, didn’t I?”
Belle almost slid off the sofa in her anxiety to back away from the man. Unfortunately, his delight at seeing her had dismantled some brain cells because he didn’t pick up on her dismay or her immediate withdrawal.
However, Jesse must have. Without hesitation, he grabbed the man from behind to yard him away from the sofa where Belle lay. But things obviously didn’t work out the way he’d planned. Belle saw Jesse’s surprise when he found himself held up against the wall with Jack’s arm across his throat and searing anger staring at him from cold, black eyes. “Back off, asshole.”
Belle screamed and fought her way off the couch to grab a frightened Layla in her arms. “Let him go, Jack. I mean it.”
Jack looked in her direction and his momentary lack of pressure was enough for Jesse to turn the tables. This time Jesse held the upper hand while Jack’s arm was twisted behind his back so high that any movement brought pain. No doubt, Jesse, being the tallest and strongest of the two, wouldn’t be caught out again.