Keep My Baby Safe

by Bella Grant

  “I’m sorry,” he began.

  Diana smiled sadly. “No, you can ask. You’re pretty much the only person who knows about her besides Alyssa.”

  Travis frowned at the mention of Alyssa. Clearly, Diana had no idea the woman had showed up at his apartment, that she was underhanded in her behavior, but Travis didn’t feel revealing her best friend’s indiscretions, for lack of a better word, was appropriate at this juncture.

  She shrugged her shoulders and continued her part of the conversation. “She found out I sold the house and tried to get some money out of me. When I told her no, we had a big argument, she threw some of our things, broke them. She tried to steal my jewelry box, which doesn’t have much in it anyway.” She sighed and scrunched up her mouth. “I haven’t seen her since I told her to get the hell out.”

  Travis glanced down, guilty he’d made her feel bad. He reached across and took her hand, squeezing it carefully. “I’m sorry. She was always a bad seed.”

  “Yes,” she mused, nodding as she glanced at their entwined hands. He watched as she shook off the melancholy and smiled largely. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your partner. He seemed like quite the character.”

  Travis chuckled, grateful for the different topic, and said, “Ah, well, a character is the kindest thing you can say about him. He’s a rogue, self-defined, and enjoys the company of every woman he can find.”

  “Wow. And that doesn’t interfere with business?” she asked as she slipped another apple into the dip and ate it.

  “Oh no,” he replied, smirking as he reached for pineapple, grateful he hadn’t ruined their rapport with his insensitive question. “He loves money more than he loves women. He would never allow a woman to come between him and his money.”

  “So not a candidate for marriage, I assume.” Her lips quirked in a half smile, and she lifted her glass again. After setting it down, she closed her eyes briefly, giggling quietly. “Gosh, I think I need a glass of water with my food.”

  “Two mimosas and you’re tipsy,” he teased. “You always were a lightweight.”

  “Still am. You know…” She leaned forward on her elbow and pointed at him. “The other night when Alyssa and I were out, I drank more water than alcohol because I didn’t want to get wasted.”

  “Did you succeed?”

  She tilted her head back and forth. “Weeelll…not really.” They shared a laugh as Dustin appeared again.

  “Ah, a happy table is a table that tips well,” he teased with a wink for Travis as he eased their plates in front of them. He clapped his hands together, smiling as he looked between them. “May I get you anything else?”

  “A water, please,” Diana asked, smiling.

  “Two,” Travis told him.

  “Of course. Enjoy.” Dustin hurried away and returned almost immediately with their water so he could leave them be.

  Rather than eat, Travis had rediscovered his love of watching Diana. Every move was graceful, every facial expression like an angel’s moving through her emotions. She had always fascinated him and had caught him watching her so many times she eventually became accustomed to it. However, in their time apart, she had lost the inoculation.

  “Can you please eat and stop staring at me?” Diana lifted her eyes to his, an eyebrow cocked at him.

  He chuckled and picked up his fork to eat his pasta dish. “How is it?”

  “Oh, my God, so delicious I might order a second one,” Diana commented as she cut into her omelet and ate another bite.

  Their conversation was easy and fun, and Travis enjoyed spending the time with her more than he’d enjoyed a date with another woman since her. They laughed and teased, chatted with the waiter, and told each other he deserved a huge tip. When they’d finished their meals and their pitcher of mimosas, refusing another and desserts, Travis felt as if they had never been apart.

  When Dustin brought the check, Travis handed him a hundred-dollar bill, leaving almost a thirty percent tip. Travis waved away the question about change, and Dustin gasped, “Well, thank you! I sure hope you two come back regularly!”

  “I hope to,” Travis said pointedly, looking at Diana, who smiled at his hint.

  She glanced at her watch and gasped. “Good Lord, it’s almost four!” She looked up at him and chortled quietly. “I can’t believe we talked for so long.”

  “I can. We always were good at talking,” Travis reminded her. “I’m so glad we reconnected.”

  “Me too,” Diana replied softly. “But I do have to go.” She rose and grabbed her purse.

  “May I carry the flowers to your car?”

  “That would be so helpful, yes, please,” Diana answered, her manner becoming that of a polite stranger, which confused him.

  He’d thought they were working up to a future date and decided he’d ask even if she was acting a little strange. She had been nervous at the beginning of the afternoon but had relaxed after a mimosa and good conversation. Now that they were leaving, her anxiety had apparently returned.

  He lifted the flowers and carried them, following her out of the restaurant, a plan for asking her for that second date in his mind as she led him to her car, a piece of shit that barely looked like it ran. She unlocked it with the key fob, surprising him that it even worked, and opened the back door.

  “I’m going to put the flowers in the back and seat belt them in,” she told him, winking. “I don’t want them to spill. I want them sitting on my desk so I can brag about getting flowers.”

  “All girls like to boast when they get flowers. Next time, I’ll have them delivered,” he promised.

  “Next time?” she asked before bending over to place the flowers carefully on the seat. As she buckled them, he watched her ass, marveling that she had such a nice one for a thin woman.

  “Definitely a next time if you’ll agree to go to dinner with me,” Travis finished, smiling when she straightened quickly, almost hitting her head. “Be careful.”

  “You want to take me to dinner?” she asked, skepticism in her voice. “Why?”

  “You’ve changed, I’ve changed. We’re different people, Diana, and I think a couple of dates will give us a renewed idea of what we could actually be,” Travis said sincerely.

  “You really want to try again?”

  “I trust you when you say you’ve kicked the gambling, and I hope you trust me that I’m not working myself to death,” Travis continued, stepping closer after she closed the door. “I’m going to jump out on a limb here, and tell you that I could fall for you again.”

  Diana was frozen, watching him, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. She brushed it away and said, “Well, shit. I think I could fall for you, too.”

  “Then that’s it,” Travis exclaimed, taking her hands and feeling a little like a romantic movie lead. “Go to dinner with me.”

  “When?” she asked, squeezing his hands.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow would be good,” Diana replied quickly as if she feared he might change his mind. “What time?”

  “I’ll text you tonight after I make reservations. Will that be all right?”

  “Oh, yes, that’ll be great.” Before he could step away, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek softly. “Bye, Travis. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She hopped in her car and turned the ignition, leaving quickly as if afraid.

  Travis watched her leave, elation and a pang of possible regret filling him. He’d told himself he wouldn’t, but he had rushed into starting a new relationship with her. Elation burgeoned because his feelings, while hidden for a while, hadn’t changed for her. He still loved her, though he wouldn’t say that for some time. Have to protect the ol’ heart, he thought as he turned and headed for his own vehicle. Regret still lingered, though, because of her mentioning of the jewelry box having nothing much in it.

  The jewelry box should contain two rings, both worth some money, though not much. Her wedding ring and the sapphire ring. The wedding ring was now usel
ess, just a piece of gold with a few small diamonds. Meaningless. He hoped she’d pawned it if she ever struggled. The sapphire, though, while not worth as much as the wedding ring, was filled with meaning. He’d bought it for her on their last night together, with love that he felt was still in him.

  He hoped she still had some of those feelings as well, and the next night would be an even better indication than the lunch had been.

  While Travis was on the phone later that evening to make reservations, a commercial for American Horror Story’s new season popped up on the screen and a thought settled into his mind. The show had started its first season the year he and Diana divorced, but she’d been obsessed with it. He’d bet money she still was. She enjoyed her “stories,” as his grandmother used to call the soap operas she watched every day.

  “Murder House” had been the first season, and he’d watched some of the episodes she’d recorded with her, losing his focus on the work he’d brought home and admitting to himself the show was excellently written and terrifying. However, after the divorce, his television watching had ended, and only in the last six months had he discovered Netflix and all it had to offer. He hadn’t started AHS, the abbreviation used most often for the show, but it was on his list, specifically for one reason.

  In the season entitled “Coven,” a famous New Orleans debutante, Madame LaLaurie, was reportedly a main character, though her life was greatly exaggerated because, while she was alive in the early 1800s, she somehow survived in the show to modern times. Travis’ curiosity had been piqued, so he’d put the show on his long list of television programs he planned to watch.

  He’d bet half his fortune Diana had already watched every season available, and since Madame LaLaurie’s house of horrors was still standing in New Orleans, he thought a tour of the home would be an excellently macabre beginning to his date with Diana. The two of them had shared a love for horror, had gone on ghost tours of plantations while dating, and read and researched historical figures well-known for their cruelties.

  A moment of hesitation crossed his mind. What if she had changed and no longer enjoyed the horrors humans had inflicted on others? No, he thought, smiling as he grabbed his computer to get the number and reserve a private tour through the house. She’ll love it, I’m sure of it.

  Chapter 7

  Diana had settled in for another evening of Netflix, feeling a happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time. Travis might fall for her again, and she knew damn well she had never really stopped loving him. The love had faded some because she’d forced it into the furthest chambers of her heart and mind so she didn’t hurt every day, but seeing Travis, talking to him and laughing with him, had reminded her of it. The love was knocking on the doors to the outer chambers, and she wouldn’t be able to keep the door locked for long.

  She was incredibly excited to see him the next day, and if the fantasies she’d had while driving home were any indication, she might invite him to her bed at the end of the evening. But is that really a good idea? she asked herself. Pushing pause on the episode of Breaking Bad, she’d started to retrieve her laundry to fold as she watched.

  As she piled the towels in the basket she kept close to the dryer for clean laundry, she remembered how grateful she’d been when she found a cheap apartment that also had a washer and dryer. The idea of going to a laundry mat once or twice a week had been dauntingly depressing, and she’d passed over apartments in nicer areas to find one with the appliances.

  She lifted and carried the basket of fresh-smelling towels to her tiny living room, only about ten feet from the “laundry room,” which was really an indentation in the wall of the kitchen with a curtain hanging in front of it so guests wouldn’t see the washer and dryer and any dirty clothes piled on top of them.

  After pushing play on her show, she plopped down on the couch and began folding, her mind lost in the making of a science teacher/father turned drug dealer turned murderer. The show was a testament to the lack of decent pay and insurance teachers across the country faced. Walter White felt he’d make a better life for his family making and selling meth, which was true, a sad truth in the US.

  She watched as Walter and his wife had a brief altercation, and her phone dinging on the charger in the kitchen was almost lost in their argument. She waited for the outcome of the fight before pausing and hurrying to the kitchen and picked up her phone, smiling, to read the text from Travis.

  TRAVIS: I have bad news.

  Her heart sank as she made the assumption he had to work and wouldn’t be able to keep their date. If that were the case, she decided with frustration in her heart, there wouldn’t be a second date. Their marriage had ended because the man couldn’t put his job second to anything, even his wife, and she refused to go down that road again. Her response, however, was somewhat joking just in case. The man loved gentle pranks, and this could be one of those. Better be, she mused as she typed.

  DIANA: I hate bad news, but bring it on.

  TRAVIS: I can’t get reservations for tomorrow…

  Diana breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that wasn’t an excuse to blow her off.

  DIANA: Okay. When can you get reservations?

  TRAVIS: Well, I have an idea. A surprise for you, but it will have to wait until Wednesday.

  DIANA: A surprise? I love surprises!

  Diana’s heart sped up. She loved surprises, and Travis, despite his flaws, had always given her the best surprises. Once, out of the blue on a random Sunday afternoon, he’d told her to get in the car, assuring her that as long as she wore jeans, boots, and long sleeves, she’d love where he was taking her. They had driven about an hour outside of New Orleans into swamp country, and he took her on a swamp tour, where the mosquitos had been the size of sparrows and no amount of bug spray kept them away. Her long sleeves had saved her from four different types of malaria, she was certain. They had seen alligators, snakes, and all sorts of furry creatures that lived in the area. He’d produced her camera, and she’d snapped three hundred photos that afternoon, most of which had been good enough to print and put in an album, which she still had somewhere.

  TRAVIS: I know you do. Since it’s so close to Halloween, I couldn’t get us in until Wednesday.

  Her mind racing, she wondered where he could possibly be taking her if Halloween meant they were busy. Could be a haunted plantation tour, which they had done once, but there were dozens of them in and around New Orleans. Or she’d always wanted to tour the abandoned asylum that had been turned into a museum, roughly two hours away. What if he was taking her to a costume party? She had no idea what she would wear.

  TRAVIS: Stop trying to guess and tell me if you can go on Wednesday haha!

  Diana chuckled. He knew her entirely too well.

  DIANA: Shut up. I wasn’t guessing.

  TRAVIS: I could hear your mind whirring from across town.

  DIANA: Intelligence is noisy.

  TRAVIS: Good Lord, then my mind must sound like a freight train.

  DIANA: Always bragging, Mr. Ego.

  TRAVIS: It’s not ego if it’s true.

  Diana felt her eyes roll into the back of her mind as she laughed at the standard argument. He was one of the smartest men she’d ever known, and he knew it, though his bragging wasn’t a real thing. He bragged playfully, an endearing quality because he was humble about his accomplishments when he had every right to brag. A full minute passed while she thought, and her phone pinged.

  TRAVIS: Soooo, Wednesday?

  DIANA: Is a special outfit required?

  TRAVIS: Haha no. Not a swamp tour. But you know you loved it.

  DIANA: Such fun. I was just thinking about that and wondering what I did with the photo album.

  TRAVIS: I can’t believe you still have it.

  DIANA: Pretty sure I do. If I find it, I’ll have it out on Wednesday so you can look at it.

  TRAVIS: Awesome. Can you be ready by five?

  Diana frowned. She didn’t get off work until five if Cameron wasn�
��t in the middle of a big case. As luck would have it, he’d just finished a big one and they had some down time before the next one began.

  DIANA: I’ll have to ask my boss if I can leave a little early. I’ll let you know after work Monday.

  TRAVIS: If we have to push it to six, we can.

  DIANA: I can ask. I rarely ask for time off or to leave early, so it shouldn’t be an issue.

  TRAVIS: Great. Talk to you tomorrow.

  DIANA: Sounds good!

  Diana tossed her phone on the couch next to her, a smile brightening her features. He said he would talk to her tomorrow, so even though they didn’t have plans, he was still going to call or text her. The thought pleased her…no, thrilled her! She felt like she was becoming involved in a brand-new relationship rather than rekindling an old one. They had changed quite a bit, so that wasn’t surprising.

  The excitement was real, the little butterflies in her tummy were real when she thought about him, the titillation she felt at the idea of kissing him, inviting him to her place, and undressing him like he was a new conquest. Would they make love like they had before? Their love life had been outstanding, so she wouldn’t mind it. However, he’d probably had a fling or two since her, and she’d messed around with a couple of dudes, nothing serious. Maybe each of them had learned new things to add to an already wonderful sexual experience.

  Rather than push play, she rose and meandered to her bedroom, where she dug out her waterproof vibrator and decided a long bath, a glass of wine, and a couple of orgasms was just the thing. While the hot water ran to fill the tub, she returned to the kitchen for her glass of red. She filled the glass more than halfway full since the bottle was close to empty, then tossed it into recycling, frowning when she heard it clink against another bottle. She remembered she hadn’t taken the recycling in three weeks and didn’t feel quite so guilty about the three bottles in there now.