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Romance: Teen Romance: Follow Your Dreams (A Nerd and a Bad Boy Romance) (New Adult High School Sports Romance)

Page 9

by White, Stella


  Aaron felt nauseous but avoided going to the bathroom for fear she would be dead when he came back. A few people close to him, his mother, his sister, and Pastor Evans, had told him she would soon be out of pain, and he knew that, but it was of no comfort.

  The doctor moved away from Lindsey's bed and watched her from afar as Aaron sat in the chair next to her and waited. Why couldn't he do something to help? He'd always solved their problems before. But this, this was beyond him, and the whole of medical science.

  ''Mom,'' Aaron said when Jean arrived in the room at St Edward's Infirmary. She put her hand on his shoulder and looked at her daughter-in-law. ''She's going, mom, and there's nothing I can do about it. Nothing at all.''

  Jean turned her head away and bit her trembling lip as her tears began to flow. She'd seen people die before, her husband and her father, but this was infinitely worse. Lindsey was just thirty-two, and she was leaving a loving husband and a wonderful son behind. ''What did the doctor say?'' Jean asked.

  ''He said she's in the final phase. That means it's imminent.'' Aaron's voice broke, and he leaned his head on his mom's breasts as she stood next to him.

  ''How's Matthew?'' Jean asked.

  ''Devastated. He's with his nanny. I can't believe it. The callous bitch handed her notice in three day's ago. Just as his mom is about to die. Can you believe it?''

  Jean shook her head in disbelief. How was Matthew going to cope with losing his mom and his nanny in the same week? Autistic kids didn't react well to change, and at five years old it was likely to affect him very badly.

  When Lindsey opened her eyes, Aaron stood up. He felt her grip his hand as hard as she could. ''Aaron, I'm sorry if at any time I said or did anything to hurt your or Matthew,'' she whispered. Her voice sounded cracked and dry.

  ''You didn't. Not once. We love you more than anything in the world,'' Aaron said, hardly able to speak as the lump in his throat threatened to choke him.

  ''I'm going now. Tell Matthew I love him and look after him as I know you will. I love you. I'm sorry I let you down like this.''

  ''You didn't, you didn't,'' Matthew said as he stroked her forehead.

  Lindsey's eyes closed, and Aaron heard the sound he had been dreading as her last breath slipped from her.

  He lay across her limp body and hugged her as huge sobs racked his body. After a few minutes, Jean took his arm and pulled him to her. He cried like a baby on his mom's shoulder, for the first time in years.

  The doctor discreetly closed Lindsey's eyes and folder her arms across her body. Aaron looked down at her and blew her one last kiss.

  ''We'll take Lindsey to the Chapel of Rest now,'' the doctor said. You can visit her there again today if you like.

  ''No doctor, thanks, but I made my mind up not to visit her after she'd died. I want to remember her the way she was,'' Aaron said.

  Dr. Evans put his hand on Aaron's arm. ''That's very wise. Speak to Pastor Evans later. I'm sure he'll be able to offer some words of comfort to you and Matthew.''

  ''Thank you for all you have done for us, doctor. You made her very comfortable, and I appreciate that,'' Aaron said.

  ''Come along Aaron. Let's go and leave the doctor to do what he has to,'' Jean said. She put her arm around him as they walked out of the room.

  Aaron went to his office before going home. He wanted to tell the people who worked for him. When he walked through the glass door, the receptionist knew just by looking at his face. She got up and hugged him. ''I'm so sorry Aaron. If there's anything I can do you will tell me won't you?''

  ''Thanks, Jan. Just keep up the good work, that's all I ask.''

  He walked along the corridor and into his office. He closed the door and sat behind his desk. I've built all this singlehandedly, he thought. But what difference has it made? Now I'm a widower, and Matthew doesn't have a mom. When he looked out of the window, he could see for miles down the Hudson River. He loved New York, but on that day, it looked gray and uninviting. He owned the whole building in downtown Manhattan, a ninety-story maze of offices, retail and residential real estate. It wasn't the only building he owned. He owned similar properties all over the States and Europe.

  ''Aaron, I'm so sorry,'' Megan said.

  ''Come in,'' Aaron said when he saw her hesitating.

  She walked to his desk and hugged him. After she'd dabbed the corner of her eye with a tissue, she sat down in the chrome and leather chair opposite him.

  ''Do you want to talk?'' she asked.

  ''I don't know. I'm just numb.'' He looked at the woman who'd been his PA for the last fifteen years. He was glad he'd chosen a more mature lady to look after him. She'd been a wonderful PA. He remembered back in the days when he'd just started his business how many beautiful women had applied for the post he'd advertised. But despite being turned on no end by the mini skirts, long legs, and low cut tops, he stayed focused and chose someone purely on merit. Megan was fifty-six and marvelously efficient. ''I couldn't have done all this without you, Megan,'' he said.

  ''Nonsense. You've done it all yourself.''

  ''Not bad for a kid from the wrong end of town,'' he said with reference to his upbringing in a squalid apartment in Brownsville, NY.

  ''Not bad at all,'' she said. ''But I think it's not despite your background it's because of it.''

  ''What do you mean?''

  ''You know how you got to the top. You had to kick ass and push people around. You had to bend the rules, break a few bones and never take no for an answer. A boy from middle-class America, who'd been to private school, and then Harvard wouldn't have been able to do that. And do you know what the best part of it is?'' she asked.

  ''No.''

  ''You're still only thirty-two. I'm so sorry about Lindsey, and I know it will take you a long time to get over it. But you're still so young.''

  ''It doesn't feel that way at the moment,'' Aaron said.

  ''Of course not. Without wanting to demean Lindsey's memory in any way, I just want to say that time is a great healer.''

  ''I guess. Will you call the undertaker and make the funeral arrangements, I don't think I can?''

  ''Sure.''

  ''You know what I want, we've discussed it often enough.''

  *****

  Aaron had asked people not to wear black. Black wasn't the color he associated with Lindsey, and although it was tradition, he wanted people to wear bright colors. He wanted her funeral to be a celebration of her life. It was impossible for it to be a joyous occasion, but he wanted it to be a thanksgiving of what Lindsey had given to the world. Her charm, intelligence, beauty and the most wonderful gift of all Matthew.

  He looked at his five-year-old son playing with some building blocks in the corner of his playroom and wondered how he would react when he saw his mom's coffin. Aaron had agonized about letting Matthew go to the funeral, but he'd read an article about a woman who hadn't been allowed to go to her father's funeral and she'd said it had deprived her of the ability to mourn. So he'd decided to let him come and to try and explain what was happening.

  He remembered the day the doctors had told him and Lindsey that Matthew was autistic. They hadn't noticed at first, but when he was about two, they began to see some suspicious behavior. He never made eye contact, and when they smiled at him, his face would remain blank. He was generally so unlike other kids; Lindsey had persuaded Aaron to come with her to the doctors. They hadn't known what to think at first. The more they read about the condition, the more confused they became. But they had spoken to some other parents with autistic kids, and there seemed to be three of four things that were vitally important to the child's welfare. They gave Matthew his own secure area, they held to a very strict schedule and rewarded him greatly for good behavior.

  ''Hey little man, are you ready?'' he asked.

  Matthew looked at him and stood up. ''Mommy?'' he asked.

  ''Yes. Mommy,'' Aaron replied.

  The funeral cortege soon got to the church, which was close to Aaron's
home. When Aaron got out of the limousine holding Matthew's hand, women began to wail. Not because they had known Lindsey particularly well, but because the sight of such a handsome man holding the hand of such a cute boy at his mother's funeral was too much to stomach.

  After the funeral, Aaron did the usual thing and thanked everyone. He had no idea how it had affected Matthew because he'd shown no emotion at all. He hadn't even made any of his customary noises. Aaron assumed he would find out in the fullness of time.

  ''Thank you, Pastor Evans, it was a wonderful service,'' Aaron said as he shook his hand.

  ''You take care, Aaron. I'll be along to see you at regular intervals, and if there's anything you need, please let me know.''

  ''I will,'' Aaron replied. ''You're coming to the house for refreshments aren't you?'' he asked.

  ''Yes. Thank you. I'll just say goodbye to the mourners, and I'll be there.''

  The house was full of well-wishers who'd come to Aaron's mansion to have a drink and something to eat. Matthew sat quietly in the comer and observed what was going on around him.

  ''Aaron, I heard Matthew's nanny has handed in her notice,'' Pastor Evan's wife said.

  ''I'm afraid so, and she chose a very unfortunate moment to do so,'' Aaron said.

  At that moment, Matthew began to make the most deafening screeching noises. Aaron went to him and tried to comfort him. People started to move to another room to protect their ears.

  ''Hey Matthew, it's okay,'' Aaron said. ''I'm here.''

  ''Sally,'' Matthew shouted.

  ''Sally's leaving us. I told you. We're going to find a new nanny. Someone really nice.'

  ''Want Sally,'' he screeched. Aaron took hold of him to prevent him hurting himself on the wall as he flailed his arms and legs.

  ''Come on little chap,'' he said. He picked Matthew up and withstood the pounding Matthew's fists and feet were giving him. Eventually, Matthew calmed down, and Aaron was able to put him in his playroom.

  ''How do I go about getting a good nanny?'' he asked Kayla. Kayla had been Lindsey's best friend, and she knew everything about domesticity.

  ''Where did you get the last one?'' Kayla asked.

  ''An agency.''

  ''Don't bother with agencies. There is only one place you will find a great nanny and that's the English Nanny School. I'll text you the number over. You need a well-trained nanny who knows about autism, not some bimbo from a local agency.'' Kayla had always had a way with words, he thought.

  That evening after everyone had gone and Aaron's staff had cleared up, Aaron went upstairs and took one of Lindsey's nightdresses from the chest of drawers. He lay on the bed and cuddled the material.

  *****

  Aaron yawned and leaned back in the armchair. ''I don't know about you, but I'm really not sure about any of them,'' he said.

  ''No, I must say I was expecting better candidates. Perhaps I was lucky when I got my nanny,'' Kayla said.

  Aaron usually worked on Saturdays, but he'd taken the day off to interview potential nannies to look after Matthew. The school had sent him six applications, and he'd decided to interview every one of them. Five had been and gone, and none of them had made any impression on him at all. Only one of them could answer in any detail about autistic children, and she'd told him she could only promise to stay a year because she planned to move to the Bahamas to teach diving.

  ''I really need someone. I can't manage on my own. I can't run a company and look after Matthew twenty-four-seven.''

  ''Don't worry we'll find someone. Anyhow there's still another candidate yet.''

  ''And she's late which doesn't bode well. I hate tardy people. If she's not here in ten minutes, she can forget it.

  Fifteen minutes later the doorbell rang. Kayla and Aaron were chatting about what to do next.

  ''Let her in and give her a chance,'' Kayla said.

  Aaron went to the door and opened it. He hadn't expected what he saw. A fantastically beautiful woman whose hands were covered in oil and dirt.

  ''Mr. Fleming, I'm so sorry I'm late. I'm Jodie from the English nanny school. I got a puncture, and I couldn't get the wheel nuts off until some strongman stopped to help me. My hands are filthy as you can see.''

  Something about her made him smile. She was dressed beautifully in an over the knee, floral skirt, and a cream blouse. She had a tan bag over her shoulder, and her hair was up and neat.

  ''Well, I'm sorry about your troubles, we'd just about given up on you. Come in; I'll show you to the bathroom, and you can get cleaned up.''

  Aaron went back into the lounge and waited until Jodie appeared. Kayla got up and shook her hand.

  ''Sit down on the sofa,''Aaron said.

  Aaron looked critically at her. She was going to look after his son, and he felt fully justified in doing so. The first thing he noticed was how pretty she was. She was tall and elegant, and she sat upright, her body language indicating her genuine interest in the job. Aaron had interviewed a lot of people in his time, and he knew when they were only there for the money.

  ''So Jodie. Let me tell you something about me. I'm Aaron, and I own a real estate business which I run out of New York. My wife has just passed away...''

  ''I'm sorry to hear that,'' Jodie said.

  ''Thank you. My wife passed away, and I need someone reliable to look after my son Matthew. He's autistic, and he's difficult. His previous nanny was overawed by the task and left me at a very difficult moment.''

  ''I understand. This is a very interesting position for me. My brother is autistic, and I've always been interested in working with autistic children. I majored in the care of such children. Here are my grades,'' she said as he handed Aaron a sheet of paper.

  ''Very impressive. You say your brother is autistic, so you grew up with the condition?''

  She looked at Kayla and then back to Aaron. ''Yes, my brother is a year older than me, and I have known nothing else all my life. He's totally closed off from the world. My mother still looks after him. I would help more if I could, but I need to work.''

  ''Where were you born?'' Kayla asked.

  Jodie hesitated. ''In New York,'' she replied

  ''Which part,'' Kayla asked.

  Once again Jodie hesitated. ''I'm afraid I was born into poor circumstances. I grew up in Brownsville.'' She pulled an awkward face as if she was ashamed of her past.

  ''Really. I grew up in Brownsville. You shouldn't be ashamed of where you were born. All I can say is good for you for doing something to get yourself out of there,'' Aaron said.

  ''What a coincidence. I went to St Thomas's School'' Jodie said.

  ''So did I,'' Aaron replied. ''Well, that's great, someone from the same place as me,''

  Jodie smiled and began to relax. ''Do you want to meet Matthew?'' Aaron asked. He'd already decided he liked Jodie. He knew darn well that if she'd survived the trials of a youth in Brownsville, she was tough and up for a challenge.

  ''Yes, I'd like that.''

  Matthew bounced into the room and stopped when he saw Jodie. ''Hello Jodie,'' said. Matthew didn't reply, he jumped on the sofa and stared into space. ''He's a lovely boy,'' Jodie commented.

  ''Yes. But he can be a handful,'' Aaron said. ''Okay. Let's give it a try. I suggest a three-month trial. When can you begin?''

  Kayla felt bypassed and flashed Aaron a scowl.

  ''I can start immediately. Yes, a three-month trial will be fine.''

  ''Great. Let me show you where you will be living,'' Aaron said.

  He stood up and took Jodie upstairs to show her an area of the house they'd had converted into an apartment.

  ''I hope you didn't do that because she's hot,'' Kayla said when Jodie had left.

  ''What? Are you accusing me of being unprofessional, because if you are...''

  Kayla put her hand up in apology. She knew Aaron had a temper, and the last thing she wanted was a confrontation. It was just that she'd sat with him all afternoon, and he'd made his choice without consulting her. ''Sor
ry that was bitchy,'' she admitted.

  ''Look, she knows about autistic kids, and she's from Brownsville. If she came out of that place in one piece, then she's tough. I think she'll be perfect.''

  *****

  ''Hi, I'm home,'' Aaron shouted. He put down his briefcase and loosened his tie. He'd just returned from London, and he was anxious to see Matthew. He walked through the hallway and into Matthew's playroom. He wasn't there. He looked in the sitting room and wandered to the kitchen.

  ''Have you seen Matthew and Jodie?'' he asked Mrs. Robertson, the cook.

  ''In the back yard, I think,'' she answered.

  Aaron went through the conservatory at the back of the house and into the yard. They were in the pool together. Matthew was splashing away to his hearts content, and Jodie was applauding everything he did.

  ''Welcome home,'' she said when she noticed him watching them.

  ''How on earth have you managed to do that?'' he asked.

  ''What?''

  ''Get him into the pool. He hates the pool.''

  ''Not anymore, look, he's having a great time.''

  Aaron tried not to look, but he couldn't help but notice her body. He loved the shape of her legs and the way her breasts rose above her flat stomach.

  ''Well, how?''

  ''Slowly. That's the key. I put no pressure on him at all. I let him watch when I went swimming, he soon saw it was fun and wanted to join in.''

  ''Can he swim?'' Aaron asked.

  ''Not yet, but we're working on it.''

  ''Jeez, that's amazing. Thank you. I would never have thought.''

  Jodie watched Aaron return to the house and smiled when she saw him shake his head in disbelief.

  That evening after Matthew had gone to bed Aaron was sitting on the terrace looking through some documents. Jodie came out in a robe and dived into the pool. She swam seriously for half and hour and got out.

  ''That's your work out is it?'' Aaron asked as she was walking past him.

  ''Yes. I try to do some exercise every day.''

  ''Sit down. I've finished working,'' he said.

 

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