When You Least Expect

by Lydia Rowan

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said, surprised by the wonder he heard in his own voice. “A baby,” he repeated. “I never expected to say those words. And I have no fucking idea what I’m doing,” he said.

  All at once her face and her body softened. “It’s wild, right? Hearing that little heartbeat. Makes it more real somehow.”

  “Yeah, it does,” he said, his voice soft.

  Real was an understatement. He’d thought of little else, but the idea of the appointment and then sitting in the office and then hearing his baby’s heart beating, that was something else. What he and Ariel wanted, or didn’t want for that matter, didn’t matter at all. He, they, had to think of the baby now.

  “What about your job?” He shifted topics quickly, not yet able to say more about how hearing his child’s heart beating had made him feel. It was a cheat, probably something that would reignite the anger that had slackened a bit, but that was preferable to focusing on other feelings.

  “I moved to the office, so no fun stuff, at least for a while,” she said.

  “So there’s no risk to the baby?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “I love my job, but I’m not stupid, Matt. And I’d have told you that if you’d just asked me.”

  “Last time I asked you something, you told me no,” he said. He immediately regretted if not what he said, then at least the bitterness in his tone, but the words were out now.

  They were having a baby, something that had seemed almost theoretical until this morning. But it was real, and they needed to be together. Ariel had to see that.

  “You mean to tell me that I’ve been driving myself crazy and you’re just mad because I turned you down?” she asked, smiling mischievously.

  “This is not a laughing matter, Ariel,” he said.

  “Matt, the baby is one thing, but a marriage is something else, and I can’t compromise on that.”

  He hadn’t expected her to change her mind, but he was disappointed nonetheless.

  “If you say so, but I’m not dropping this, so think about it, okay?”

  “Matt… Let’s just focus on figuring out how we’re going to handle this.”

  It wasn’t the promise he’d wanted, but it wasn’t another no either, and right now, he’d take what he could get.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “He’s going to love this,” Ariel said about four weeks later to no one in particular as she flipped through the book How to Co-Parent Effectively.

  Between trying to figure out how to keep things normal for Dani and being viciously sick, she’d been frequenting baby and parenting websites, and this book had come up a couple of times. It seemed so easy, neat and clean, she and Matt creating routines and systems that would allow them both to create meaningful and strong bonds…blah, blah, blah.

  There was approximately zero chance that Matt would quietly go along. He hadn’t mentioned marriage again, but then again, he hadn’t needed to. His intentions were unmistakably clear in his actions. He’d burrowed into their lives, hers and Dani’s, showing up most nights for dinner, entertaining Dani when Ariel was so exhausted she could barely muster the strength to pull a blanket over her when she lay on the couch. He’d become a presence here, something that as much as she wished it otherwise, she welcomed.

  And she’d let him. Oh, she’d made token protests, given little hints that perhaps they needed to maintain boundaries, but in the end, when push had come to shove, she’d relented. And she liked it. Ariel prided herself on her independence, treasured it in fact, but she welcomed that masculine energy. And, when she was being completely honest, she could admit that it wasn’t just any masculine energy, but his in particular she enjoyed. It felt good, perhaps a little too good, to have him there, a solid, steady companion, an adult to talk to, someone to help shoulder the burden.

  Ariel closed the book and stood from the kitchen table. She’d turned the conundrum over in her head a million times and could feel her resolve weakening, knew that she had halfway convinced herself that maybe she should change her mind. But despite how good it felt to have him here, how easy it would have been to marry him, she had to stand her ground.

  Truth was, she loved him. She knew that without a doubt, and it was that love that kept her from moving forward. He was there, but he didn’t love her, and as much as she wanted him, as much as he helped, she couldn’t accept anything less than his heart, and that wasn’t available.

  On an exhaled sigh, she headed to the kitchen, certain that custody arrangements could wait for another day. Dani was at church with her grandparents this evening, and she should take advantage of the free time. That in mind, she poked around the fridge for dinner, deciding she’d eat and then veg out.

  The chime of the doorbell had her emerging from the kitchen, slightly curious as to who it could be. Matt had a key—another sign that she’d gotten far, far too comfortable with him—so she knew it wasn’t him. She approached the door and peeked out of the three small beveled glass windows at the top. When she’d first seen the house, she’d insisted that the door be changed so that it was solid wood, but had reconsidered, realizing that Thornehill Springs was not Charlotte.

  Speaking of… She recognized Cyrus Thornehill, looking dashing as always in his brown sheriff’s uniform, but she didn’t recognize his companion. Alarm spiked in her blood as she quickly unlocked the door. Cyrus was friendly enough, but he didn’t make house calls if there was no reason. She opened the door and looked at him, but it was his companion who spoke.

  “Ariel Mallick?”

  Now that the door was open, Ariel recognized the woman as one of the town’s social workers, though Ariel didn’t recall her name.

  “Yes…?”

  “I’m Samantha, and I work with Child Protective Services. We’ve received a report. Would now be a good time for us to talk?”

  Ariel couldn’t have heard her right.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “We received a report, Mrs. Mallick. The best course of action would be to talk to us now so we can get this cleared up.”

  The other woman spoke sternly, probably something that was necessary in her line of work. And Ariel understood because her first impulse was to slam the door. Her second was to go find who she had no doubt was the source of this complaint. That wasn’t an option either, so she went with the third.

  “What complaint? That’s ridiculous. Who contacted you?” she asked, though she knew how the social worker would answer.

  “We’re not at liberty to say, ma’am, but I’ll try to be as quick as possible.”

  Ariel looked to Cyrus, who stood on the porch and stared at her with regretful eyes.

  “Cyrus?”

  “I’m sorry, Ariel, but we have to do this. We’re legally obligated to investigate every report, but we’ll try to be quick.”

  Ariel thought she would throw up, and it wasn’t from the nausea that had been her companion for the past couple months. Matilda was behind this, and she would pay, but first things first.

  “Come in,” she said after taking a deep breath and pulling the door open.

  Samantha entered first, followed by Cyrus.

  Ariel watched Samantha as she looked around the living room, and the anger that had overcome her faded and was replaced by fear. She had nothing to hide, knew that she provided a safe home for her daughter, but as she watched the stranger look at her house, examine it, she couldn’t help but see all the flaws. The mess that was the living room, where Dani seemed to store all of her princess toys despite the fact that she had a playroom.

  The pillows haphazardly stacked on the sofa, and the two used drinking glasses that she had left on the table after dinner last night.

  And Samantha walked toward the kitchen, Ariel’s heart tumbled with panic when she remembered the dishes piled in the sink. She’d cleaned them but hadn’t yet had a chance to put them in the dishwasher, and as she followed behind Samantha, she started to say so but held her tongue. She could barely find a voice, and she wo
rried that anything she might say would sound like an excuse, an attempt to cover over her shortcomings.

  So she held her tongue and tried to keep her expression blank as Samantha held her notebook, scribbling furiously as she went from room to room.

  “So it’s just you and Dani?” Samantha asked.

  “My husband passed away,” Ariel said.

  “And no companions…?” Samantha asked.

  Her tone didn’t change, but Ariel couldn’t help but feel dirty. Guilty.

  “Is that important for your investigation?” Ariel asked.

  She chided herself for the way the question had come out. It would do her no good to antagonize the woman, but she couldn’t help the umbrage she felt at the question.

  She paused and looked toward Ariel, her face unreadable.

  “Every element of the child’s environment is important. And I’ll need to know if she’s around any bad influences.”

  “I’m her mother. Do you think I’d let anyone I didn’t trust be around her?” Ariel asked.

  And she wanted to kick her own ass again. Just as she had feared, she sounded defensive, like she had something to hide.

  “I am dating someone. A local. Dr. Mathias Poole,” she said.

  Cyrus raised a brow, but didn’t speak. Neither did Samantha. She just wrote another of those little notes that Ariel was dying to see, and proceeded.

  Ariel felt terrible. She’d done nothing wrong, but in that moment, she’d been desperate, had felt that she needed him, needed his name and status in the community to protect herself. And that was the worst thing of all.

  “And you’re able to provide for the child?”

  “She’s taken care of, as you can see,” Ariel said.

  She decided then she’d say nothing else. After every response, Samantha marked something in that damned notebook, and she sounded more and more suspicious to her own ear.

  So she remained silent, and with each moment that passed, with each room that the social worker examined, the tension that she felt ratcheted until she was light-headed with it. Then, finally, after the second-longest ten minutes of her life, Samantha turned and headed back toward the front door, Cyrus behind.

  “Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Mallick.”

  “What happens now?” Ariel asked, hating the little hitch in her voice.

  “We’ll continue to investigate and be in touch if there are further questions,” Samantha said.

  “That’s it?”

  “Yes. That’s it,” she responded.

  “Sorry, Ariel,” Cyrus said, patting her shoulder lightly.

  Ariel, having nothing to say, opted to say nothing and when the door clicked closed behind them, she fell against it, her strength again leaving her.

  She’d only felt like this once before in her life, during those tense, horrible minutes between first learning about the crash and having Daniel’s death confirmed. She’d been as low then as she ever had, but this was a far too close second. She couldn’t entertain the possibility of losing Dani, and couldn’t fathom what had motivated Matilda.

  Matilda.

  Just thinking the words filled her with a righteous anger that was more than justified. She’d trusted Matilda. Had overlooked their differences because of how important she knew the woman had been to him, how important grandparents would be for her daughter, had come to trust the woman in a way. And this was how she was being repaid?

  She grabbed her purse off the console table and stormed out of the house.

  ••••

  By the time she got to the church, Ariel was practically foaming at the mouth for blood. Matilda’s blood in particular, though she’d be happy to make do with anyone crazy enough to get in her way right now. The seething rage she felt was about to overflow. She’d gone out of her way to be kind to that woman. Had tried, even in the midst of her own grief, to help in whatever way she could with Daniel’s loss, had gone out of her way to make sure that the Mallicks were involved in Dani’s life.

  No more.

  She haphazardly parked in the handicap spot in front of the church, and before she had the car completely in park, she opened her door, prepared to jump out. She stomped up the stone steps and threw open the door, headed for the children’s chapel where they would be. The church was buzzing with activity, choir practice, different age-group services, but she paid none of it any mind.

  She rarely had occasion to enter the church, but she didn’t stop to take in the decor. Instead she stomped down the hall, not bothering to respond to the greetings that came her way.

  The door to the children’s chapel loomed at the end of the dark hallway, and as Ariel marched toward it, she tried to calm herself, but to no avail. When she reached the door she gathered the last tiny remaining bit of her self-control and opened it slowly instead of kicking it in as she wished.

  The assembled children didn’t notice the interruption. They were all huddled in groups playing with miniature Noah’s Arks, while Matilda stood sentinel, managing to wrangle the twenty little souls with only a stern look.

  “Danielle,” Ariel said.

  That got Matilda’s attention, and she turned her eyes to Ariel, sternness morphing to pure disdain.

  God and Daniel forgive her, but she’d never wanted to punch a sixty-year-old as much as she did right then. She thought she might break her teeth from the force with which she bit down, and didn’t even dare risk speaking to the other woman.

  “Danielle,” she said again, this time her voice sharp.

  Dani looked up, her little face questioning, her eyes big with surprise.

  “Mommy?” she asked, the elephant she held falling to the floor seeming forgotten.

  “It’s time to go, honey,” Ariel said, trying to take the anger out of her voice. “Say good-bye to everyone.”

  “But I—”

  “Dani, I said it’s time to go.”

  Dani must have heard or sensed how serious she was because she waved at the kids around her and then walked toward Ariel, her chin quivering and tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

  Matilda stopped Dani as she passed and picked the girl up, giving her a tight hug.

  “I’m sorry your mommy is making you leave, baby,” Matilda said, glaring at Ariel.

  “Mrs. Mallick, Dani is old enough to walk.”

  Matilda looked stunned, but she put Dani down, and the little girl walked toward Ariel, swiping at the tears that ran down her cheeks.

  “This is the kind of thing, this wild behavior, that might make people think you’re unfit to raise a child,” Matilda said, voice low.

  Were it not for the little girl that stood next to her and the baby that was growing inside her, Ariel would have lost it. Hell, the Ariel of ten years ago would have either way, but she held herself, though it nearly killed her to walk away from smug, self-satisfied Matilda. But she reached for Dani’s hand and headed back down the hall without another word.

  She got Dani into her car seat and took the long way home, knowing that the drive would put the girl to sleep. She wasn’t up for conversation or tantrums, either one of which was a possibility, so when she looked into the rearview mirror and saw Dani nodding off, she turned toward home. She managed to get Dani inside and in bed without waking the girl, for which she was grateful.

  She swept her gaze around the living room and then thought about the dishes that were in the kitchen, determined to get the house into shape. Two steps and she lost her will and retreated to her bedroom. She’d deal with it later.

  Right now, she needed to freak out and cry.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Matt was surprised to find the house so quiet at this time of day. He glanced at his watch. It was barely after eight, which meant Dani and Ariel should have been having their nightly conversation about Dani’s bedtime. Odd, but maybe they were both tired. Ariel had been worn out for the last few weeks, so that was probably it. It had been tough as hell to watch her exhausted, sick, and not be able to d
o anything about it, but he’d helped out as much as he could, and Ariel seemed to appreciate the gesture.

  He unlocked the door with the key he’d been shocked Ariel had given him, and finding the living room empty, he headed toward Ariel’s bedroom, making a quick stop off to check on Dani, as had become his habit.

  He peeked in, saw her sleeping, so he headed to Ariel.

  Much like her daughter, she lay under the covers, but she wasn’t sleeping, which concerned him. He hurried toward the bed and kneeled beside it, reaching up to touch her forehead.

  “Are you sick?” he asked, voice edged with concern.

  She turned her eyes down at him, and then shrugged.

  “Something like that,” she said, and then she looked away.

  “What?” he said.

  “Matt, I’m not in the mood—”

  “Too bad. What the hell is going on?”

  “I had a visitor today,” she said with a sigh. Then she sat up and flipped the covers aside. She looked awful, her usually glowing skin ashen, her eyes swollen and red.

  “What is it, honey? Tell me,” he said.

  “Cyrus Thornehill and a social worker paid me a little visit today,” she said.

  “What? Why?” he said, shooting up to stand.

  “My reaction as well. Apparently, they received a report that questioned my fitness as a parent, so they had to investigate.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Who would…?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That old bitch. Sorry,” he added a moment later.

  “Don’t be. That’s the nicest thing you could say about her right now,” Ariel said.

  His concern edged away and was replaced with anger. One phone call and Matilda Mallick had turned easygoing Ariel into the sad, bitter person in front of him.

  “What did they say?”

  She shrugged again, the nonchalant motion not at all reflected in her fiercely angry eyes.

  “Oh, you know, standard stuff like who am I sleeping with and whether I can take care of my child.”

  “They asked you that?” he asked indignantly.

  “In so many words. I told them about us.” She glanced up at him then, question in her eyes. “I hope that’s okay,” she said.