by Zrinka Jelic
Laughter tickled the roof of his mouth, but he pressed his lips hard to keep it from bursting out. She was getting better in the kitchen. At least her attempt hadn’t brought on the local fire department, like the last time. He wrapped his arms around her. “Honey, you’re too hard on yourself.”
Brushing a tear from her cheek, she cut him a guilty glance. “Hard? You have no idea. If you didn’t arrive when you did, the house would’ve burned down. I almost forgot Milo and then I ran out with Rosie in my arms and didn’t have time to dress her for the outdoors. There, I confess, I’m useless.”
“You’re not useless. At the end of the day, everything’s fine, we’re all accounted for and we survived.” Tom kissed her hair, catching a whiff of smoke. “Let’s see if dinner is salvageable.”
He opened the oven door a crack, but at the sight of charred meat he slammed it shut. At least the smoldering from the stove had ceased, but the smell would no doubt stay for days. “Nope.” He grabbed the phone. “Chinese food?”
She took a seat at the kitchen table and shrugged, her face crumpled. “My appetite is gone. I wanted to surprise you, but … ” Her voice trailed off and turned into another sob.
The small buttons on the phone’s dial pad played their soft tones as he dialed the restaurant. “It’s all right. I wasn’t in a mood for chicken fingers and fries.”
She laughed through tears and his pulse quickened. His love for her bubbled up, the need to make her happy a driving force. “See, no harm done. Shall I order our usual?”
She nodded. “Chop suey, wonton soup, and egg rolls.”
Tom winked, but the fact she knew “the usual” unraveled the knot in his guts. For a moment, even he’d suspected she really was his wife’s double sent from some parallel world. Her mishaps almost convinced him of the theory he refused to believe.
Rosie’s cooing came in through the baby monitor. Olivia stood. “I’m surprised the alarm didn’t wake her. I’ll go get her.”
“She’d sleep through any clangor.” Tom turned his attention to the phone as someone finally picked up his call. “Yes, can I’d like to place an order for delivery?”
“Where’s Mommy’s big girl?” Olivia’s soft voice filled the kitchen through the monitoring device. He had a hard time concentrating on the menu in front of him.
With dinner taken care of, he placed his iPod on the docking station and shuffled through the songs in his library. He picked Song Tied Us. The band joined in with the mandolin after an intro, the male singer’s deep voice sang in perfect harmony with a female vocal. Tom couldn’t resist and he cranked up the volume.
Olivia strolled in, Rosie in her arms. “I like this song. What’s it about?”
He wrapped his girls in a bear hug, leading Olivia to follow his steps. “The refrain tells how we are tied together through song in good times and bad, giving us happiness no matter who we are.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m not one for poetry, but those are beautiful lyrics.”
“Yes, they are. Unfortunately, much of the beauty is lost in translation.”
Milo ran up to them and joined them in their slow dance. Tom hummed along with the song as it came to an end with the chime of xylophone. Three songs later, the doorbell announced the arrival of their dinner.
“Let’s eat.” Tom carried the bag to the kitchen and set it on the table.
Milo climbed onto his chair next to Olivia. “After, can we dance again?”
“It’ll be your bed time by then.” Tom sliced up a portion of chicken into bite-size pieces, dished out a spoonful of vegetables and placed the plate in front of the boy. “Mommy will get you into your pjs and I’ll read you a story.”
“Not fair.” With a pout, Milo buried his face in his hands. “Rosie gets to stay up.”
“She won’t stay up for long.” Tom raised his finger and stopped his son’s attempt at another complaint. “You know who’s coming to town and he sees you when you are sleeping and knows when you’re awake.”
The boy’s eyes widened and he returned his attention to his plate.
Olivia’s fork hovered mid-air, a piece of broccoli speared on the tines. “That song gave me creeps when I was a kid. To think some old guy from North Pole watches while you’re sleeping and knows if you’re good or bad.”
A low chuckle rolled Tom’s stomach. “It works wonders on kids. Speaking of the big guy, the kids should have pictures taken with Santa.”
Milo’s fork clunked on the plate and he raised his arms over his head. “Yay!”
Olivia’s chewing ceased and she swallowed hard. “I never had my picture taken with him.”
Milo blinked and his mouth dropped. “Why not, Mommy?”
She turned to Tom, an awkward smile on her lips. “I shouldn’t say it in front of Milo.”
“You can tell me later.” Tom picked at the food on his plate. Her confession knotted his stomach anew. Milo was just a baby then, but they had a picture taken with Santa at Tom’s office party.
With dinner behind them, Tom cleaned the kitchen while Olivia took Milo upstairs. By the way the boy’s feet dragged on the tiles, Tom suspected the good night story would not be needed.
The multicolored dragon in Rosie’s hands crinkled as the baby kneaded the toy’s ears. Tom placed the last of the leftovers in the fridge, and picked up his daughter from the high chair.
He turned the kitchen lights off and carried Rosie to the living room. He sat her on his lap. “And how was your day?”
The baby reached for his nose. He chuckled when her little hand squeezed, blocking his airflow.
“You have one too. Right here.” He tapped the tip of her nose.
Rosie’s grin prompted Tom to kiss her. “You may be Daddy’s girl, but you resemble your mom. And you’ve got her willpower.”
At a soft laugh, he turned to see Olivia standing in the threshold. “It’s the truth, look at her. She’s a copy of you.”
Olivia’s hips swayed as she strolled to the couch, making Tom gulp. “And Milo’s all you.”
“Yes, he resembles me, but he loves his mommy.”
Olivia lowered her gaze to her hands. “I loved my dad so much. Mother accused me of being too clingy and possessive. According to her, I never gave them a moment to themselves. That is why she had Tadem late in life, when the risk of having a child with Down’s syndrome was much higher. She blames me.”
Tom rubbed Olivia’s arm. “No one is to blame for your sister’s condition. You can tell me now why you haven’t had a picture taken with dear Santa.”
“Well.” Her smile and a head shake indicated her memory was not pleasant. “My mom never subscribed to the craze of holidays. She made it clear there’s no such thing as Santa. One time we cut through the mall and there he was, sitting in his big chair. I pointed at him and Mother said that wasn’t Santa but some perv in a polyester suit who gets off by groping children on his lap.”
Tom’s mouth hung open while he struggled to process the cruelty. He placed his hand on Olivia’s back. “She denied you the very essence of childhood.”
“No.” She scooted closer to him, her warmth spread to him. “Mother wanted to protect me from disappointment of finding the truth.”
“Don’t worry.” He brushed her long hair over her shoulder, exposing her slender neck. Her jasmine mist masked the most of the smoke smell and filled his senses as he pressed his lips to her skin, causing her to shiver. Rosie’s foot wedged under his chin and he pulled back, but continued to circle his thumb on Olivia’s nape. “I have good news. The judge ordered the trial to continue in January, as I predicted. He wouldn’t want to work over Christmas and miss his turkey dinner. So we’ll spend our holidays with Tadem. Sound good?”
Her slow nod failed to convince him this was what she wanted. “What’s wrong?”
She snapped her glance straight to his eyes. “I haven’t seen Tadem in over twenty years.”
The strength of her voice was all too believable. Pain stabbed his che
st. Olivia had no memory of two life events. Unsure of how to reply to his wife, he smoothed Rosie’s hair. “I’m sure your sister will remember you, and she’ll be happy to see us. She hasn’t seen Rosie yet. Milo and Tadem are best friends.”
“They would be. In terms of mental age, they are about the same. Only her mind is trapped in a body of an adult. Mother’s flawed daughter was a weed in her perfect garden.”
Olivia’s face screwed up, on the verge of tears. Tom’s heart twisted. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t undo the damage her mother had so callously done. “Honey, Tadem is fine where she is. Chances are she wouldn’t get the same care from your mother.”
“You’re right.” She sniffed. “Let’s have our Christmas with Tadem.”
He flashed Olivia a reassuring grin. “I already booked the flight. We’ll be leaving in three weeks.”
Olivia still appeared uneasy, more so when she pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
Bouncing Rosie on his knee didn’t stop the bad premonition sprouting in his guts. “Visiting Tadem isn’t the only thing bothering you.”
Biting her nail, she shook her head. “Can you talk about your trial?”
His eyebrows drew closer. “Only what’s been reported in the media. Why do you want to talk about it?”
“This could be something or nothing, but the gun used in the shooting … ” She licked her lips. “I have … or had a weapon. It’s missing.”
He ceased bouncing his knee and pulled his daughter to his chest. “No honey. You pawned the revolver years ago. I keep the pawn shop receipt in my safe.”
“I pawned it? That’s a relief. I thought it was stolen. I didn’t have a permit.” Her chest lowered with a long exhale. But in the next instance her expression froze. She twiddled with a handful of her hair, a sure sign she was scared. “A strange uneasiness is nagging at me that same gun was used it in the shooting. The damn feeling keeps me up at night and somehow I know I’m right.”
Shifting Rosie to his side, he wrapped Olivia in his arm, pulled her to his chest. She relaxed against him and he kissed her forehead. Never before had he seen his wife this worried. “Could happen, but it’s a long shot. Don’t be scared. It’s possible to track the weapon, but I’m not a detective. This is something I should turn to the police, just to put you at ease and clear you from any possible implications.”
CHAPTER 10
The speakers crackled and the singsong voice of a flight attendant announced the final approach to the Vancouver airport. Olivia gulped the air, not only to loosen the pressure in her ears, but in fear of how Rosie would take the landing. Oxygen enriched air, inside the cabin, caused fuzziness in her head and she yawned.
The takeoff hadn’t seemed to bother the baby, though once strapped in her seat, she’d cried. As soon as they’d reached cruising altitude and the seatbelt sign turned off, Olivia snatched Rosie out of her confinements and rocked the child until her wails stopped. Strapping her back in the safety seat wasn’t an option. A man in dark suit had rolled his eyes, then shook his head before he’d returned his attention to business section of his paper. Mere weeks ago she, too, would’ve frowned upon having to share a row with children. She would’ve demanded to be moved if sat in their proximity. Times had changed though — now she scowled at the man seated across the aisle.
She lowered Rosie to her chair. Surprise seemed to flash in the baby’s dark eyes, her lips curled downward, preparing for another wail. Snapping the straps, Olivia wrinkled her forehead with sympathy. “Only for a few minutes, Rosie. Then you’ll come out again.”
Rosie started fussing. Like a gunslinger, Tom pulled a sippy cup from the diaper bag. “We’re almost there, twinkle.” He glanced at Milo sleeping next to him. “I can’t believe she’s still awake. I thought for sure they would both zonk out.”
Straightening her seat at the flight attendant’s urging, Olivia smiled at the small form under the blue blanket. “He was too excited last night. It was way past ten by the time he fell asleep. You should wake him now.”
Milo surfaced from under the cover when Tom nudged him. Alertness replaced his sleepy expression in an instant. “Are we there yet?”
“Ready to see auntie?” Tom smoothed a rebellious clamp of hair at the back of Milo’s head, but it sprang right up again.
Joy mixed with nervous butterflies fluttered in Olivia’s stomach. She kept tapping her foot against the seat in front of her. In a few hours she would see her sister for the first time in decades. She’d rehearsed every possible scenario to justify why she hadn’t come for a visit sooner. Ultimately she decided to wing it. In this life, her double had a healthy relationship with her sibling. Hopefully, Tadem wouldn’t notice she was a different woman.
“I think our little travelers are ready for our trip to Europe this summer.” Tom’s cheerful voice cut into her musing. He brushed his fingers on her shoulder, raising the butterflies in her stomach in a different way.
The majestic coastal mountains surrounding the city and the vast, green Pacific Ocean inched closer. She tore her gaze from the window, Tom’s soft smile settling her uneasiness. He always seemed to know when she needed reassurance.
“Worried about how Tadem will react?”
A long exhale loosened her tight chest and she nodded. The trembling under her feet indicated the landing gear had been lowered. The plane would touch down at any moment. She’d been through some shaky landings in the past, so she flattened her back against the seat. “I’m more worried about what to tell her. No doubt she’ll have a lot of questions.”
“Honey, you’ll be fine.” Tom tightened Milo’s belt and tapped the seat for the boy to lean back.
The tires squeaked when airbus made the contact with the asphalt on the runway. A loud whoosh followed as the craft was breaking the surface speed. Passengers ignored the announcement to remain seated, the clicks of releasing seatbelts chirping through the cabin.
“Thank God for the first class. We’re close to the exit.” Tom unstrapped Rosie from the restraints of her seat. “She can’t take another second of this bondage.”
Giggles replaced the baby’s shrills when Tom blew a raspberry on her belly, enticing a warmth to spread through Olivia. She took Rosie in her arms, feeling at ease surrounded by her family. If only it was up to her to decide whether she’d stay in this fantasy.
The diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she followed Tom and Milo. With a smile and a nod, she greeted the crew, something she’d never done on her countless flights in her other life.
Shuffling Rosie and Milo and carry-ons like circus jugglers between her and Tom, the four of them worked through the busy terminal, picked up their luggage from the conveyer belt and at last settled in the rental car.
From the passenger seat, she stared out the window, noting the shop windows and theaters along the way, decorated in the spirit of the holidays. How many times had she been in this city and never paid any heed to the storefronts? This time she was here to enjoy it, not to conduct her boss’s unpleasant business.
She glanced at Tom, his strong profile stark against the morning sun, beaming on the window. Light danced in his brown hair. “So, which hotel are we staying in?”
“The castle in the city.” His big hand covered hers, resting on her thigh. “Only the best for my family.”
She gasped. In all her business travels, she’d stayed in the five stars rooms, but those were economy chain hotels. Of course, Mr. Hiltorn wouldn’t splurge on a place such as the Fairmount Hotel for her. The establishment was, after all, crème de la crème. Yet he hadn’t hesitated to book the executive suits for himself and his entourage. She’d seen the invoices.
At the edge of his seat, Milo tapped her shoulder. “When we can we go see auntie?”
Tom glanced at the rear-view mirror. “They’re expecting us after lunch. So you take it easy, okay? Sit back in your seat.”
Milo’s impatient smile turned to a pout, his short arms crossing his chest and his bod
y angling toward the window. No sounds came from Rosie, strapped in her seat. The baby must’ve finally succumbed to sleep.
Olivia twirled ends of her hair around her finger. In the past three weeks, domestic life had become her second nature. Who knew she would enjoy Christmas shopping for her husband and children? Anticipation of seeing their faces when they opened their presents coiled through her. Her other shelled life now seemed so empty. She wouldn’t choose to trade this new existence for all riches of any world.
Tom pulled onto a long drive of the hotel’s entrance adorned with round fountain. The impressive architecture resembling an English castle came into view. Olivia eased out of the car, widening her eyes at the iconic hotel’s beauty and sophistication.
Tom dropped the keys into a valet’s hand. The young man in the hotel’s burgundy coat opened the trunk when the bellboy shuffled the buggy to grab their bags.
She pushed Rosie’s stroller through the lobby, decorated in gold and burgundy trim. Tom sure knew how to surprise her. She’d splurged on his gift, but that now seemed inadequate.
After checking into their Morningside suite, which offered a spectacular skyline view of the city, Tom set to order room service while Olivia lowered sleeping Rosie in her little cot. She closed the sheer blinds, dimming the room from the bright winter sun. The four-post king-size bed engulfing the room appeared so comfy. She stripped off her travelling clothes and plopped her tired body onto the mattress. In the past two weeks, Tom had returned to their nuptial bed, but he’d yet to make love to her as he’d promised. In his few attempts, Milo had snuck in between them or Rosie had cried. By the time she’d dealt with the children and came back to their room, she’d found Tom fast asleep. Though her mind and body screamed for his loving, she’d let him rest. After all, he was the sole breadwinner now.
“How do you like the suite?” Tom closed the door behind him.
Turning onto her side, she propped her head on her elbow and offered him her most seductive smile, slow and steady. He approached her, unbuttoning his shirt. Her stomach fluttered with anticipation, and the view of his chiseled torso. Perhaps in this enchanted place things would play to their advantage.