The doorbell rang before she had time to consider that possibility.
Cameron hopped up, Lizzie hot on her heels.
Alex and Mariana were standing on the porch, Alex in the same combat fatigues he’d worn the day she met him. He looked good. Too good. Especially holding Mariana’s pink, floral duffel bag like a man unafraid of people’s silly stereotypes. Beside him, Mariana’s splotched face beamed in a surprisingly upbeat way for a sick little girl.
“See you later, Daddy.” Mariana hurried into the house, and the girls headed into Lizzie’s room before Cameron could say anything.
She couldn’t just leave him standing on the porch, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him. Not yet. Not until she got her head screwed on straight. “Come on in.”
He hesitated for a minute but followed her in.
She stopped in front of the couch. She wasn’t ready for a conversation about them as a couple, but they needed to discuss the kids. If nothing else, she needed to reassure him his daughter would be all right. “How’s Mariana doing?”
“As you can tell, she seems fine right now. I took her temperature before we left and it was slightly elevated, and her cheeks are flushed and she’s got the splotches. The clinic said there wasn’t much to do if she had chicken pox but to wait it out. I tucked her insurance cards in her bag along with her doctor’s phone number and a medical release if you need to take her in. I also included my parents’ number in Georgia and Mrs. Rodriguez’s, too.”
“She’ll be fine, Alex. You don’t need to worry.” If only she could ease that tick in his jaw. And if she covered his hands with hers, maybe he would relax his fingers that had curled into fists.
But she given up that right when she’d told him to leave last night.
He scrubbed his free hand over his jaw. He hadn’t shaved today and there was a slight stubble. Dang, he looked even better than normal.
As sensing her thoughts, he stepped toward her. “You look good.”
Sure, since her oversized T-shirt and yoga pants were runway wear. The benefit of working from home—she didn’t have to dress up if she didn’t want to.
She opened her mouth to object, but he held up his hand.
“No, I need to say this. I missed you last night. I know it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours but because of our argument, it felt like forever. I’m sorry. You said you don’t want to be together anymore, but I can’t help how I feel.”
She didn’t know how to respond. Not when she realized that she’d been an idiot. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with him. She was afraid. Afraid to risk her heart again. “This isn’t a good time for this conversation. You need to focus on your job and take comfort that Mariana is safe with me until you come back.”
“I’ll only be gone for eleven days.”
She nodded. “I know that here.” She pointed at her head. “But not here.” She rested her hand over her heart as she bit back tears.
The alarm on Alex’s phone chimed. “Daggone it. I have to leave or I’ll miss my flight. I wish I could stay and talk this through.”
“You just be safe.”
He reached out a hand but stopped short. It was probably for the best. If he hugged her right now, she would break down… and beg him to take her back.
Chapter Eleven
Giggles traveled down the hall from the kitchen. It was Saturday. Why weren’t those two rascals asleep like most tweeners? All she wanted was to pull the covers over her head for a few more hours. She hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Between Alex and Mariana, worry had turned to insomnia. Each time she went into Lizzie’s room to check on Mariana, her temperature had been spot-on ninety-eight-point-six, and her forehead felt cool to the touch. There was no sign of a headache or a sore throat. None of the typical symptoms of chicken pox. She and Lizzie had both slept soundly.
Not now, though. They were laughing. Clearly Mariana was feeling better.
Cameron plodded down the hall toward the kitchen. She’d gulp down a cup of coffee before she faced whatever the girls were up to. A big cup. With twice the caffeine.
No such luck. She turned the corner… and her mouth gaped open. Flour coated the counter, kitchen island, and was even splattered on the front of the cabinets. And was that egg white dripping onto the counter?
“Ahem.”
The girls’ heads snapped around. Cameron covered her mouth. Chocolate and flour streaked Lizzie and Mariana’s faces and both girls’ lips were red from… was that strawberries? “Oh, Mom. We didn’t think you were up.”
“I wasn’t. Until I heard giggles from the kitchen. What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Lizzie threw her arms in the air, gesturing toward the stove. Batter flew off the spatula in her hand and splattered onto the front of the fridge. “Oops,” she said and she and Mariana broke down into giggles again. “We’re making pancakes.”
“I can see that. How about I finish cooking while you two clean up this mess?”
“They’re about done.” Mariana gestured to a plate. There were a few oddly shaped things stacked in a pile. Cameron guessed those could pass as pancakes. “We wanted to make breakfast for you… to thank you.”
Cameron didn’t have the heart to criticize the girls when they’d obviously tried very hard, so she sat at the table. “That’s really nice. Next time, I’d love to cook with you, okay?”
Cameron’s mom joined them right as the girls finished frying the pancakes, and then the four of them enjoyed breakfast. There was no sign of the illness that had driven Mariana here last night. As a matter of fact, as Cameron studied Mariana closer, Cameron didn’t see any blotches on her skin at all.
Mariana wasn’t sick. Why had she pretended? Was it so that Alex wouldn’t leave? Shoot, if Cameron thought that would work, she’d have faked sick a long time ago.
As soon as the girls finished eating, Lizzie hopped up. “Come on, Mariana, let’s go play in my room.”
“Hold on a minute, girls. This mess has to be cleaned up.”
“Oh yeah, right.” Lizzie rushed over to the counter and started throwing dishes into the sink. It wasn’t quite how Cameron would have done it, but it would suffice.
Cameron whispered in Mariana’s ear. “Can I talk to you a minute?”
Mariana exchanged glances with Lizzie and then nodded. Cameron led her into the living room and pointed to the couch. “Have a seat.”
Mariana perched on the edge of the cushion, like she knew what Cameron was going to say. All Cameron wanted to do was wrap the girl up in a hug and tell her that everything was okay. That she didn’t have to be upset or afraid. “You aren’t really sick, are you?”
Mariana slowly shook her head.
Cameron eased herself onto the couch beside the girl. “Why did you act like you were sick when you weren’t?”
“I didn’t want Daddy to leave.” She sucked in a deep breath and swiped at a tear. “I didn’t want you two to break up and you did because he was leaving, so I figured if he didn’t leave, then you could make up.”
While Cameron had suspected as much, she never would have thought the girls would have gone to such lengths. But Cameron knew her daughter. There was no way Mariana had come up with this by herself. Lizzie was knee-deep in this mess and had been from the very beginning. If only Cameron could channel that energy in other directions.
“As I told Lizzie last night, it’s more complicated than that. Your Daddy had to go on this trip. It’s his job.”
“I know, but I miss him when he’s gone.”
“Oh, honey. Alex will be back before you know it.” She rubbed Mariana’s shoulder. She could understand Mariana’s distress. When Josh had taken his trips, Cameron had constantly wondered when, and whether, he was coming back. “How about we put up a calendar and you can mark off every day he’s gone?”
“Mommy used to do that when Daddy had his trips.”
“That’s great. And any time you’re worried about him, come talk to me. N
o more tricks. Got it?”
Wasn’t that what Alex had said to her? That he was coming back and she didn’t need to worry? Of course, it was. Because he made sense. If she could have seen past her own fears, she would have heard the logic in his conversation.
Alex was coming back. He wasn’t like Josh, flitting in and out on a whim.
And she had completely overreacted because she couldn’t get over her own hang-ups.
Mariana swiped under her eyes. “Daddy told me he would send me an email every day. Can I go check?”
Cameron nodded and Mariana darted off the couch. As she skipped down the hall, Cameron slumped on the couch. Crisis averted. She thought about dashing off a message to Alex, letting him know what was going on. He was probably still on a plane, but perhaps she’d send a quick text that he’d get when he landed.
She’d let the longer text about how wrong she’d been to break up with him wait a few days, though. Or until he returned. Nothing like making up after a quarrel, if Alex still felt the same way about her.
And the one thing she knew for certain—he would come home.
And she would be waiting
* * *
Alex’s back vibrated as he leaned against the side of the Blackhawk on the last leg of his trip. Fourteen hours after he’d left D.C. and he still wasn’t where he needed to be. Every muscle in his body ached. Those seats on the C5 were so small. Who were they thinking of when they built them? Surely not a typical soldier.
He rolled his shoulder. The wall at the airfield at Ramstein had dug into his back when he tried to steal a nap.
Not that he could sleep. He had been running his last two conversations with Cameron through his mind. If only he’d had time to fix what he’d broken between them before he had to leave.
He’d reassured her, though. This was a short trip. A quick over and back to oversee final implementation of the VR system. She’d seemed okay with that. That was something he could build on when he got home.
If only he had a way to show her how close they could be, no matter the distance between them.
He smacked his head. Of course. That was a brilliant idea.
He drafted a series of emails that would send as soon as he reestablished cell service in Syria. He had some favors to call in.
Chapter Twelve
Cameron had finally gotten some sleep Saturday night and burrowed further into her covers… but what was that noise? It sounded like… a lawnmower. She threw the pillow over her head and tried to drown out the buzz. Which of her neighbors decided that mowing the lawn at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning was a good idea?
A next-door neighbor, clearly, because it seemed like it was right outside her house. She leapt up from the bed and flew to the window, yanking the drapes open just in time to see a man wearing a tan T-shirt rounding the corner of her house, pushing a lawnmower.
What in the heck?
She tugged on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and threaded her fingers through her hair. She hurried to the front door and threw it open in time to catch the man passing the front porch. She waved her hands and he bent over and turned off the mower.
“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me what you’re doing mowing my lawn at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.”
The man looked sufficiently chastised. And suspiciously like someone she may have met the day Alex’s unit had been honored at the Federals game. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I finished PT at about zero-six-thirty and thought I’d waited long enough before I came over.”
She shook her head. “The time isn’t the point. What are you doing mowing my lawn?”
“Oh, right.” He reached into his pocket and handed over a piece of paper.
She opened it up… and gasped at the printed email. “Dear Cameron, I noticed your lawn was a little shaggy. I wish I could have taken care of it for you before I left, but SSG Hutchison was happy to oblige. Love, Alex.”
Heat climbed her cheeks. Alex had arranged for one of his friends to mow her lawn.
“Did you want me to come back later, ma’am? I’m happy to do so.”
“No. That’s all right. Thank you so much. When did Alex, er, Mr. Sanchez arrange to have this done?”
“Received the email last night, ma’am. Happy to help.”
Staff Sergeant Hutchison gulped some water, tucked the bottle into a holder on his waistband, fired up the lawn mower, and got back to work.
She couldn’t believe Alex had arranged this. But now that she thought about it, she absolutely could. That was classic Alex. See a problem, solve it.
And he’d shown her that he was thinking about her. Even halfway across the world.
* * *
Cameron stepped into the house on Monday after a grueling meeting with her new client. Yeah, she had convinced them to sign a multi-year contract for her to manage their web site, but it had been her toughest sell yet. The meeting had run long, and other than a quick text to Mom to make sure she could handle the girls, Cameron hadn’t given thought to much else.
She checked the time on her phone. Almost six o’clock. everybody would be getting hungry about now. Mom had taken the girls to the park, so that bought Cameron another fifteen to thirty minutes. She could collapse on the couch for half that time and then whip something up.
Who was she kidding? She wasn’t a whipper. She was a take-out orderer. And that was what they’d do, which gave her almost thirty minutes to rest.
Until the doorbell rang.
She grumbled under her breath as she opened the door… and stared.
A man in an Army uniform like Alex’s stood on her porch. He handed her a large paper bag. “For you, ma’am.”
“What is this?”
“Dinner.”
She looked behind her to see if Mom had returned with the girls, but Cameron was alone in the house. “Did my mother order this?”
“No, ma’am. There’s a note enclosed.”
She took the bag from the man. “Thank you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Have a good evening.”
The man turned on his heel and strode down the steps. She scrambled in the bag for the note. “Cameron, I know you had that big pitch today. I’m sure they loved you. Since I doubt you feel like making dinner, here are all of your favorite dishes from La Cuchina. Enjoy.”
Like yesterday’s note, this message was signed, “Love, Alex.”
She pressed the paper to her heart. That man.
She dashed off a quick text to him, thanking him for dinner and updating him on Mariana.
The gestures continued throughout the week. On Wednesday, a box appeared on her porch containing a recent DVD release she’d wanted to see as well as two packs of microwave popcorn. And of course, a note from Alex, wishing he was sitting beside her on the couch, her hand in his, while their girls sprawled on the floor watching the movie.
On Thursday, a note had been tucked under her windshield wiper when she was leaving for an appointment. One of Alex’s friends had changed her oil early this morning and didn’t want to disturb her. Evidently Alex had noticed the Check Engine light that she routinely ignored for a good three or four thousand miles before taking her car in.
Her text message to Alex that day included a car and a heart emoji in addition to her daily update on the girls.
Friday morning, she answered the door to a colorful, majestic bouquet of gerbera daisies and alstroemeria lilies. His note suggested she take these straight to her room to avoid Boomer. Smart man. And like the previous gestures, the note attached to her flowers was signed, “Love, Alex.”
The worst part of his being gone was that she couldn’t just pick up the phone and call him. To thank him for the gifts. To tell him she was lonely without him. A text just wasn’t the same.
She hadn’t been this way with Josh. When he would leave, she would just be angry. But she wasn’t mad at Alex. She missed him. While he remembered to email Mariana daily, the personal texts he sent her wer
e like a lifeline, a reminder that he was coming home soon.
* * *
Alex checked the time on his phone. Almost zero-one-hundred. They had been pushing straight through since about zero-six-hundred the previous morning… but the tests were almost done. He didn’t mind the grueling schedule. He loved being with the unit, the bonding that only happened when they spent time together in close quarters with no other distractions.
But being overseas now wasn’t like it had been. Now that Mariana was older, she’d gotten used to him being around, and he missed her in a different way than he had when Valentina was alive. After almost a week of long days and hot nights in the field, he was anxiously looking forward to his nine-to-five schedule and non-deployable desk job.
And then there was Cameron. He hadn’t expected to miss her as much as he did. The few texts they’d been able to exchange had helped, but he couldn’t wait to get back to her.
How were they doing? Was Mariana really feeling better or putting on a brave front for Cameron? Was Cameron taking on too much, watching both girls with only the help of her mom?
And what had Boomer gotten into this week? Yes, he even missed that menace of a beast. Because he was part of Cameron and Alex missed everything about her. From those ratty T-shirts and yoga pants that she called her “work clothes,” to the way that she loved Lizzie with all her heart.
After a quick mental calculation, he realized that the girls were just getting home from school. He could catch everyone at home and awake if he called right now.
Alex pressed a few buttons to initiate a video call and then held his breath. Hopefully Cameron wasn’t driving the girls somewhere and could answer.
Finally, the line connected, and he heard her garbled voice through the phone. “Girls, come in here, quick. Alex is Facetiming.”
The picture cleared, and there was Cameron’s smiling face. “Hey Alex. Hold on, I just yelled for the girls.”
Mommy Loves The Military Man (Mommy's Little Matchmakers Book 2) Page 10