In the faint glimmering light of a distant street lamp, Axell noted they both wore cheap sneakers and something did look particularly outlandish about the toes.
Well, maybe it was better if he didn’t drag her through the expensively dressed crowd of yuppies inside looking as if she’d just been hit by a train. People would talk.
“We’ll go in through the rear door,” he said, steering her down the alley.
As they hit the bright lights and bustle of the kitchen, the delicate woman on Axell’s arm unfolded like a sunstruck rosebud. The protective armor of her brilliant smile disguised her shattered fragility.
His staff stared as they entered. Axell could hear their minds clicking already. He’d listened to the gossip churning behind these walls for years and knew precisely how it worked. They’d either have Maya labeled as a mistress he’d dumped or as a homeless waif he’d picked up off the street. They’d have him with AIDS next and the mayor really would shut down the bar.
Constance raced to his rescue. Crying “Miss Alyssum!” she practically leaped into Maya’s arms.
“Hi, honey bear,” she answered softly, crouching to hug the child. “You going to show us where your daddy works?”
That’s all it took to get her waited on, hand and foot. The staff doted on Constance. To make her happy, they would have baked a five-tiered cake and decorated it with diamonds. Fortunately for Axell’s budget, Maya only required pasta and a salad. Matty tore into a hamburger as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.
That thought gave Axell pause as he slipped into the seat beside his daughter in the staff break room. The boy wasn’t precisely skin and bones, but he wasn’t sturdy either. The clothes he wore were as neat as could be expected of a five-year-old at the end of the day, but they were a little too small and showed definite signs of wear.
His gaze drifted back to the schoolteacher. She wore the maternity jumper she’d worn every time he’d seen her. Her fine-boned features had a drawn look rather than the maternal glow one would expect, and all the blood had drained from her normally pink lips. Her usual smile had vanished now that she was behind closed doors, leaving her more vulnerable and worried than he’d ever seen her.
“Insurance will take care of it,” he suggested, knowing he pried where he had no business, but his insatiable curiosity needed appeasing.
She stabbed a piece of Romaine and raised an eyebrow. Checking to be certain Matty still chattered, oblivious to their conversation, she shrugged. “Cleo hadn’t paid a bill in months when I arrived. I can almost guarantee insurance isn’t an option.”
For whatever reason, Axell tried again. “She’s just renting that place, isn’t she? I’d say most of the damage was to the storefront, not the inventory. You can probably be back in business elsewhere in a few weeks.”
She poked the lettuce around some more, then grimaced in a fiasco of a smile. “If I could impose on you for a ride, I think I’d better take Matty back to the school and get him settled in.”
Axell tried to take her words at face value. He glanced at her plate and except for the lettuce, she’d eaten everything put before her. She hadn’t insulted him by offering payment for the meal, but he had a strong suspicion she couldn’t offer him money if she wished.
He didn’t want to admit that an educated woman, one whose credentials he’d checked, one who ran a business, taught his daughter, and showed no sign of mental incapacity — could be homeless, hungry, and without visible means of transportation.
Six
If everything seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something.
“Where are we going?” Aroused from the lethargy inspired by glove-soft leather seats, the soft hum of a powerful motor, and the numbness of shock, Maya frowned at the unfamiliar turn off the familiar highway. Tree frogs chirruped in the country quiet.
“Constance’s baby-sitter will be waiting.”
She didn’t know this enigmatic man well enough to interpret his tone, and despite the dim glow of the dash lights, darkness obscured his expression. She ought to be afraid out here with a stranger, with more fields than houses around, but this man was a Virgo to his bones. She suspected he was in full caretaking mode.
She could use a little caretaking right now, she thought from the weary fog she’d retreated into. She would like to gratefully accept Axell Holm’s words at face value — if it were not for that rebellious Aquarian nature lurking beneath his surface. “What’s your birth date?”
He glanced at her, then returned his attention to the road. “September, but I guarantee you that the planets do not guide my behavior.”
She shook her head at his predictable response. “The month only gives your sun sign. I’d need the exact date, year, and place of birth to predict the planets, but I’m not very good at charting. Your Virgo nature is obvious. It’s that Aquarian streak worrying me.” She knew she was avoiding reality, but life had taught her to take one step at a time. Right now, sidestepping worked best.
“Astrology simply labels basic human behavior in a manner people can easily grasp. If it makes you happy to label my behavior, be my guest, but I’d wager genetics and environment more accurately explain character.”
“Since I don’t know your environment and can’t examine your genes” — she threw his lap a naughty glance he probably didn’t catch and couldn’t follow since he wasn’t wearing jeans — “I’ll stick with astrology, thank you.” Her mind had taken some warped loops with advanced pregnancy, but wondering what was under the god-like Axell Holm’s trousers was loopier than usual.
They pulled into the driveway of a typical suburban Charlotte brick residence, the kind with more gables and outcroppings than she could count. As the car followed the drive around behind the house, Axell flicked a switch on the dash, and a garage door silently opened. As far as Maya was concerned, garages were a waste of money in this mild climate, but she supposed the rich had money to waste.
She didn’t know why it bothered her that Axell was rich. He had to be a decade older than she was, and a continent away in terms of life experience. She appreciated his thoughtfulness in offering a meal and a chance to pull herself together, but men of his caliber made her extremely nervous, perhaps because she so desperately craved what he had to offer.
Damn, the shock must be wearing off and her brain must be bubbling with panic if she thought Axell Holm was what she needed.
She couldn’t keep on like this. She’d been homeless before, but this time she had a baby on the way and Matty to worry about. How would she keep Matty? As soon as the social worker discovered their plight, she’d shove him into a foster home. Maya shivered as the fear rose in her, fanned by the winds of memory. She had to leave Wadeville, go back to California where she had friends...
How the devil would she get back to California? She’d sold everything she owned, including her car, so she could afford the outrageous cost of a last minute, one-way, cross-country plane ticket to rescue Matty from foster care. The few dollars she’d possessed over and above the fare had gone to restoring Cleo’s utilities, buying groceries, and dressing Matty in something besides rags. She’d never earned enough in her few years as a teacher to build a cushion of savings.
Tears filled her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away as Axell opened the passenger door and held out his hand to her. Matty and Constance were already scurrying out of the back seat.
She curled her fingers into her palms and stalled with the practice of a lifetime of rebelling against hand-outs. “I’ll wait here while you take Constance in.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve got room, and you’re exhausted. You can have a room near Constance. In the morning, things will look better.”
“I’ve had a lot of experience with mornings. Generally, they only look worse.” She refused his hand. She’d spent most of her life trying to fit into other people’s lives. She’d earned her degree so she would never have to take charity or depend on anyone else again.
He wit
hdrew his hand impatiently. “Look, you can sleep in the car if you like. I’ve got to get back to the restaurant after I see Constance settled, but I can take the Rover.”
The “Rover” looked to be a looming utility vehicle of horrendous size on the far side of the garage. Two vehicles and one driver. Conspicuous consumption. She didn’t have the energy to sniff her disapproval. Terror had replaced her brain.
As Axell turned away, Maya halted him. “What good is it showing Matty what he cannot have?” she demanded. “It would be much kinder if you’d take us to the school.”
He didn’t turn as he contemplated her words, leaving Maya a view of his wide shoulders. He’d removed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, but the carelessness didn’t conceal that he was accustomed to dealing from a position of strength: physical and emotional as well as financial. He had absolutely no concept of what it was like to worry that the roof over his head and the food in his mouth could be stripped away if he said the wrong thing, opened the wrong door, wore the wrong clothes.
The automatic garage lights blinked out and Axell hit the switch restoring them. The action apparently bolstered his decision. He turned and faced her with no expression.
“Children adapt,” he snapped. “You’re the one with the problem. If you want that school of yours to survive, you’d better learn to start working with others.”
This time, he didn’t offer a helping hand. He strode into the house, leaving her sitting in the enormously expensive car, staring at a wall of gleaming, unused garden tools. He didn’t even tend his own yard.
Well, he’d given her a choice, of sorts. She could sit there until he got tired of looking at her and took her back to the school. She could borrow the money from Selene and go back to California with Matty. It would mean living off friends until the baby was born since she’d never find a job in this condition.
Or she could get up and follow Axell Holm into the world of the wealthy, a world she’d never known, frequently despised, often envied, and always feared. In her experience, a helping hand usually meant accepting shackles. She wasn’t any good at living within the boundaries of other people’s rules.
Maya pinched her eyes closed. Either way, she lost her independence. Why not wait until after she was well rested to decide between a rock and a hard place?
Her irreverent humor bounced back as she shifted her belly out of the car. Maybe she could accept his offer of a position as nanny and be like the TV character who lived in wealth and flirted with her clueless employer.
The dubious charms of a wailing infant would end that career soon enough.
***
Removing cash from his pocket to pay off the baby-sitter, Axell curbed his impatience as Maya occupied the woman with chatter, drew Constance into the conversation, and appeared in no particular hurry to accept the shelter and comfort of the room he offered her. As far as he could see, Matty had settled quite comfortably into a fascinated trance in front of the television.
No matter what Maya thought, he wasn’t offering charity. He’d simply grabbed the most expedient method available of installing a mother figure in the house for Constance and stalling Sandra a while longer.
Somewhere on the ride here, his good intention of offering a night’s shelter had developed into the insane idea that he’d been handed the golden opportunity to solve all his problems. With the schoolteacher in residence, Constance wouldn’t need Sandra. He was a quick study. Maybe he could learn how Maya drew words out of his noncommunicative daughter. He would give anything, do anything, to have the same rapport with his daughter that Maya had. That Maya was a potential disruption to his orderly life was a given he accepted as the price of learning.
He was a desperate man.
So, watch and learn, he told himself as Maya stroked Constance’s hair, talked about the video Constance had popped into the VCR, and pried a reluctant smile out of her as Maya compared the dragons on her toes with the one in the movie. A minute later, Constance was begging to have her new Nikes painted and was clinging to Maya’s hand as if she wouldn’t let go.
He still didn’t see how she did it.
Instead of lingering in the family room doorway, Axell strolled in and sat on a massive leather footstool near Constance. He took the unadorned Nike from his daughter’s fingers, held it up to the TV dinosaur, and tried to join the conversation. “Purple and green?” he asked facetiously, while Matty ignored them in favor of the video.
Constance drew closer to Maya, whipped her long hair back and forth, and held out her hand for her shoe. She didn’t say a word.
He didn’t have time for this. Exasperated, he handed the shoe back. “Will you show Maya and Matty to the room next to yours?”
For a moment, her thin face lit from within. Then it shuttered and she nodded warily. Still, not a sound.
“Give your daddy a hug,” Maya whispered in tones he could hear. “He has to go back to look after all your friends in the kitchen.”
That was a hell of a way of looking at it, but Constance willingly turned and grabbed his neck for a swift hug before retreating to Maya’s side. Maybe it was a female thing. Maybe little girls needed mothers at this age more than they needed fathers.
Still, her desertion pained him. He’d worked hard at building the bar and restaurant to fill the void left by the death of his parents, but he’d never had his father’s knack for making friends of his customers. Dissatisfied, he’d tried filling his lonely existence with Angela. He’d hoped his daughter’s birth would plug the gaps in his marriage. Instead, his inability to interact with others had cost him his wife, and now he was losing his daughter.
Anguish seared his heart as he watched Constance cling to a virtual stranger, leaving him more alone than ever. He didn’t know why he kept trying, except he didn’t know the meaning of the word “quit.”
He’d always thought fathers worked to provide food and shelter and earned love and respect in return. What had he done wrong?
He simply didn’t possess what she needed. Pained by that realization, Axell rose. “I apologize for my lack of hospitality, but I’ve got to get back to the bar.” At least, at the bar, he knew where he stood. He provided the executive decisions. His employees provided the friendly atmosphere. “Make yourself at home as best as you can. I think the housekeeper keeps up the guest room, but you can ask Constance for anything you need. She knows where everything is.”
“Of course she does.” Maya slipped her arm around Constance’s shoulder. “She’s an excellent hostess. You can leave us safely in her hands.”
She threw him a veiled look he couldn’t interpret. Axell suspected he was supposed to do or say something now but he didn’t know what it was. His father might have punched him in the arm and said “Come on, Tiger, let’s you and me go to the bar,” but that didn’t seem the appropriate response in this case. He patted Constance’s head awkwardly. “You look after Miss Alyssum and Matty for me. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Maya shook her head and watched him hurry away. The poor man didn’t have a clue. She could almost sympathize with him. Almost. But years of experience told her that men were a self-centered lot when it came right down to it, and just because Axell was older and wealthier than most she knew, he wasn’t any different.
She let both Constance and Matty wind down by watching the video. She doubted if Matty had ever seen a video, or that he had any idea how it operated. Cleo’s ancient television didn’t have cable and only picked up a couple of local channels, and those faintly. Matty watched a few cartoons on Saturday morning but nothing else. Maya preferred it that way, but she didn’t have the heart to tear him away from this fascinating entertainment after seeing his home reduced to a crumbled pile of brick.
Homeless. Maya fought off another slam of panic as the baby kicked.
Matty wasn’t the only one who needed diversion. Bubbles of pure fear percolated through her veins. She needed her tea. She should have insisted on rescuing her cups.
After the video ended, Constance led them through the darkened corridors of the house. The unlived-in decor didn’t ease her fears. Dining room furniture gleamed with wax, vacant of any hodgepodge of sugar bowls or salt cellars or placemats. The beautifully decorated living room with its plush white rugs could never have seen a child’s toy. The lovely apricot walls sported no dirty fingerprints. Against the silver sofa, charming pillows lay in perfectly symmetrical patterns that could never have held a human head.
Maya rolled her eyes and with a spurt of humor, imagined what this place would look like if she let Matty and Muldoon and herself loose in it for a few days. Axell would never recover from the shock. Maybe she could round up a pickup and move Cleo’s stuff into the upper story of the school in the morning. Selene was out of town, but she might have a better idea when she returned.
Maya shuddered at the first sight of the guest room. It looked like a hotel with its prints of English gardens and heavy draperies in polite mauve and blue pinstripes against a beige background. She supposed the cherry furniture was expensively tasteful but not the kinds of things one would let a child jump on.
“This was gonna be the baby’s room,” Constance said matter-of-factly as Matty stared in awe at the big bed with its stacks of pillows.
The baby’s room? Maya would rather not get into that one.
Looking around at Axell Holm’s ice palace, she could see rules and regulations written all over. No sirree bob, she was out of here first thing in the morning.
Constance tugged shyly at her hand. “I made a picture,” she whispered.
Unable to accomplish the feat of crouching again, Maya sank onto an upholstered chair and turned Constance around to face her. “What kind of picture? May I see it?”
Constance nodded, pulled her hand free, and opened a dresser drawer. Maya caught a glimpse of a hidden treasure trove of childish objects: a battered stuffed rabbit, broken crayons, and chunks of what appeared to be plaster. Constance neatly closed the drawer before Maya could see more.
Impossible Dreams Page 6