Husband Stay (Husband #2)

by Louise Cusack

“We have to go,” she almost shouted at Jack, hurting my ears. “Now.”

  “Where’s Caitlin?” he replied, his voice calmer than hers, but with an edge to it I’d never heard before.

  “She missed her flight. One of us will have to stay here with the girls. I don’t want them to see this.” Her fingers were gripping the window sill as she spoke over me to Jack, and in that moment, as I pressed myself back into the seat, I felt invisible.

  Whatever she’d thought of me before didn’t matter because something terrible was unfolding, for both of them, something far more important than an Indian girl with bossy demands.

  “I’ll stay,” Jack said, but I could hear from his voice that it was the last thing he wanted.

  His quiet anguish was so palpable; I simply couldn’t stay invisible any longer. “I’ll do it,” I said, not thinking about the consequences. “I’ll stay here and look after the girls.”

  His mother transferred her gaze onto me and her panic faltered. In that moment she looked bewildered, as if I was a stranger she’d never met. “Can you?” she asked, and the enormity of her anguish was suddenly very clear.

  She didn’t approve of me for a second. But in her desperation to get herself, her husband and Jack to wherever they needed to go, she was willing to leave her precious granddaughters with me. This had to be about one of her other children—the girls’ mother Isabelle, or the son in the military. I hoped like hell that neither one of them was going to die.

  The last thing Jack or his mother needed, however, was my anxiety, so I simply said, “I’ve got nieces of my own that I’ve babysat. The girls will be safe with me.”

  Jack butted in. “It might be a day. Or longer,” and I turned to find him even more tense, but so achingly beautiful as he waited for my answer, with reluctant hope shining in his eyes.

  In that second I realized that embarrassment was irrelevant, so I nodded slowly and said, “Jack, I’d do anything for you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Behind me I heard his mother slap the windowsill. “I’ll get father.” Then there were footsteps leading back to the house but I was staring at Jack, watching the transformation on his face. The hope was dissolving, and a mask of control had taken its place.

  But I didn’t let that unnerve me. I was too busy reveling in the glorious feeling of liberation that my announcement had produced. I felt freer than I ever had in my life.

  “Are you in love with me?” he asked quietly.

  I nodded, then I realized I wanted to say it aloud. I wanted to sing it, in fact. “I’m in love with you.”

  He nodded back. “I have to go now. You’ll watch the girls? They’re in the playroom.”

  My soaring emotion dampened slightly, but I told myself his family issue was more pressing than my impulsive declaration, and it was natural that he didn’t have the emotional space to assimilate it right now.

  “I’ll find them,” I said. I had an overnight bag in the trunk, in case I’d been stuck in a local town overnight waiting for a flight home. I needed to get that. “You go.”

  We could talk when he got back.

  But he stared at me a few seconds longer, then without warning he reached across and captured my face with his large hands and kissed me. Hard. As if the tension and the fear and whatever else was churning through him could be exorcized by me.

  I didn’t care. I clung to his shoulders and kissed him back while I could, amazed that even in midst of such drama, I could feel so instantly aroused. It was completely inappropriate with his parents probably about to come out the front door at any moment, but his tongue was hot and hard and demanding and I melted under the onslaught.

  And then it was over, as quickly as it had begun, and Jack was outside the car, walking to the house, not looking back.

  Sweet Shiva.

  I should be thinking ahead to the girls, to any questions I might need to ask, but as he bounded up the front stairs, all I could think was that is one gorgeous ass.

  It was so firm and curved, that even through denim it was turning me on.

  Get your bag. Get in the house.

  I followed my own advice, jogging up the stairs thirty seconds behind Jack. When I got in the front door I could see him down the hallway, so I strode straight to him, feeling like he was a magnet, pulling me close.

  When I got there, he grasped my hand, but before I could speak he turned me to face the open room in front of him with its big flatscreen television, boxes of toys and a bookcase of children’s books.

  “Daisy. Charlotte. This is my friend, Angela. Can you babysit her until I get back? I’m taking nanny and poppy to a business meeting.”

  A pair of tomboys in denim shorts and pigtails looked up from their Lego construction. The older one—looking around six, said, “Sure thing, JB.”

  He nodded and turned back to me, saying quietly, “I don’t know how long we’ll be.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve got babysitters.” I smiled at the girls, then I turned back to Jack who just stared at me, radiating…something. Tension? Frustration? “I’ll be here,” I said, in case he was worried I’d leave.

  He nodded again, but it still took him several seconds to let go of my hand and leave. Then he strode to the backdoor, and as soon as it closed behind him I felt an ache of loss up high in my chest.

  He’ll be back.

  But would everything be different then? He needed me now, but when this emergency ended, or Caitlin arrived, I’d be leaving. I might never see him again.

  “Angela?” The older girl called me over and put a small book in my hand. “Can you read this? Mommy used to read to us before she went to the hospital. We’re not sure when she’s coming back. Do you know?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t, honey,” I said, a touch too brightly, then I settled myself onto the lounge, insisting the girls introduce themselves—Daisy was the elder, and little Charlotte—or Charley—was a cherubic four who insisted on sitting on my lap while Daisy cuddled close under my arm.

  “Possum Magic. Good pick,” I said, but I was sick to the stomach about the fact that these beautiful girls might be about to lose their mother. Still, I read the book, then when I remembered that I needed water, I got us sorted with afternoon tea in the kitchen.

  By that point, the girls were so used to me they were teasing me about having big brown possum eyes. Their own were bright blue, and with their dead-straight blond hair, I was predicting they’d grow into a pair of Glamazons.

  I was starting to relax, looking through the fridge to work out what I could make them for dinner, when from behind me, little Charley said, “Are nanny and poppy at the hospital with mommy? Is this the day she’s going to heaven?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, but a second later when I opened them, the insides of the fridge were swimming in my vision. I blinked that back and cleared my throat before I turned back. “I don’t know, sweetie. They didn’t tell me.”

  Daisy put her half eaten cookie back onto the plate. “I miss her.” Then she looked up at me. “But nanny hasn’t told us how we’ll visit her in heaven. We can’t even visit her in hospital.”

  Out of nowhere, bile rose in my throat and I realized I was going to vomit. I tried to suppress it, but I couldn’t, so I gasped, “Toilet?” and Daisy jumped off her chair and led me at a run down the hallway.

  I only just made it to the bowl before I vomited up all the water I’d just drunk.

  “Are you sick?” Charley whined from outside the door. “Mommy used to do that. Mommy used to sick up.”

  She started to cry and I suddenly realized I was frightening them. So I hurriedly flushed the toilet and rinsed out my mouth before I came out, but little Charley backed into Daisy and they hugged each other, both gazing at me with wide, wet eyes.

  “I’m not sick,” I told them, and pasted on a smile.

  “Yes you are,” Charley wailed. “You’re sick just like mommy.”

  “No I’m not,” I said patiently. She looked like she was abou
t to start wailing in earnest, so I recklessly said, “I’ve got a baby in my tummy.”

  Daisy went still with her arms around her little sister and Charley stopped crying long enough to gaze up at me. “A baby?” She sniffed.

  I put a hand over my flat belly. “It’s very tiny still,” I said, “but it’s growing inside me and sometimes it makes me feel queasy. That’s quite normal,” I hurried on when they both frowned in concern. “It’s healthy, and not a problem at all.”

  “Are you sure?” Daisy let her sister go and took a step toward me.

  “Of course, the doctor told me so,” I lied. “And here!” I said as inspiration struck. “I’ll show you what it looks like.”

  I went to my handbag and grabbed out my phone to show them some pictures on the internet, but I had no signal. Clearly their property was too far out of range. They would have a booster, but I didn’t have the logins for that. “Do you have a computer?” I asked them.

  Daisy ran and retrieved a tablet, so I opened a browser window and found images of growing fetuses. The girls were enraptured, and I even read them segments about morning sickness and other bodily changes.

  By the time I had them bathed and sitting down to scrambled eggs and toast for dinner, they were laughing and teasing me about what I should call the baby. Either Tigerboy or Pinklewinkle or Blaberdab.

  At that point, with a forkful of scrambled egg on its way to my mouth, I said, “Well I think it depends on what the daddy wants too.”

  Which was a stupid thing to say to them because it left me wide open to questions about who the daddy was.

  Only, Daisy said, “Why do you need a daddy? Our mommy didn’t get one.”

  I stared at her, blinking, with absolutely no idea how to answer that. So I fluffed over it and somehow managed to make my way through the next hour before I was tucking them into bed, reading a story and telling them they’d see nanny and poppy at breakfast. Which might be a bald-faced lie, but it made me feel better to see them relax.

  Then I roamed the big house and ended up curling into a corner of the lounge with the tablet to check my emails, hoping to distract myself from the claustrophobic dread that was growing each hour. Something bad was happening. I had no idea what. And those little girls might wake up to a new and horrible world.

  That seemed so terrible, it put my own situation into sharp perspective, and I stopped worrying about whether Jack would reject me and our baby. Daisy and Charley had far bigger problems to face. So I waited for my inbox to open, hoping for something distracting from Rosie. Instead, my eye lit immediately onto an email from Fritha—who never emailed me. The subject line was HELP. I couldn’t get it open fast enough, and when I did, I felt even sicker than I had before.

  Why is your phone going straight to message-bank? I’m hurt. I NEED YOU. Call me.

  I jumped up and dropped the tablet on the lounge, about to run to the guestroom the girls had shown me to, only to remember that my phone had no signal.

  I’d seen a phone in the kitchen, however, so I ran there and snatched it up, dialing Fritha’s number from memory.

  “Baby,” I said as soon as it answered, then I hurried to, “It’s me, Angela,” because she wouldn’t recognize the caller ID.

  “Where are you?” She sounded shaky and scared.

  “At Jack’s property, near Emerald. I’m hours away honey. What’s wrong?”

  “I’m in Sydney. You’re not here.”

  And Jill would be in Finland by now, so I said, “Louella—”

  “She won’t answer her phone. She probably thinks I’m trying to hit on her toyboy.”

  “Let me ring her—”

  “No. Ange,” she cried softly. “A guy punched me. I’ve got a bruise on my cheek.”

  “Oh baby.” I wanted to reach through the phone and pull her into my arms. “Who did it?”

  “Some fucker at a club.” She cried a bit more. “He didn’t take ‘No’ very well, and he was creeping me out. So I left and he followed me.”

  Was she even safe now? “Where are you?”

  “Down the road in a park.”

  “Fritha Wynde!” I said so loudly I could have woken the girls, then I lowered my voice. “You get your ass to a police station right this minute.”

  “I just want to crash somewhere.”

  “Wait.” It was only a few hours after dinner. Kamal would be out clubbing somewhere. I’d get him to pick her up. “I’ll ring my cousin. You can stay in his spare bedroom where I used to live.”

  “Can I?”

  “Yes. What’s the nearest well-lit public place you can wait for him?”

  She gave me the address of a Night Owl Convenience Store and I made her promise to wait inside, and care less what people thought about her bruise.

  Then I quickly rang Kamal on his cellphone, but as soon as he knew who I was, he said, “Your mother is here looking for you.”

  “What? In Sydney?”

  “No,” he said carefully, “In my apartment. Standing next to me.” The next thing I heard was “Is that Angela? Give me the phone.”

  “No!” I whispered loudly, but by that point she was probably already taking the phone out of his hand.

  “You listen to me, Angela Lata. I am your mother. And if I say—”

  “No! Put Kamal on. This is an emergency.”

  “You think you are so important—”

  I hung up the phone and rang Kamal’s landline. When he answered it, I said, “Say Hello Mary.”

  He parroted back, “Hello Mary. What’s up?”

  “My friend Fritha is in desperate trouble. Please pick her up and bring her back to stay with you overnight.” I gave him the address and a description.

  “Sure honey. I’ll come straight over and pick that up. See you soon!”

  He hung up, so I phoned Fritha back and told her to stay put. I could only hope my mother was gone when Kamal arrived back. Then I realized I could do something about that.

  I rang her cellphone, which she answered immediately. “Who is this?” She sounded outraged that someone without a caller ID should be phoning her.

  “It’s me, Mummy Ji. I’m sorry about—”

  “You will be sorry,” she cut straight in. “I’ve brought a very good dentist here to meet you, only to discover you don’t live here anymore! How does that make me look? Like a stupid mother!” She answered her own question. “I don’t even know my own daughter’s whereabouts.”

  I thought about all the things I could say, and ended up with, “I hadn’t heard from you, so I assumed you didn’t care about me anymore.”

  “What a thoughtless girl. When you are a mother—”

  Something inside me snapped. I pressed the phone hard against my ear. “I am a mother!” I said savagely. “I’m pregnant to a man who doesn’t even know he’s about to become a father, and I can’t tell him because his sister is in hospital dying. I’m at his parent’s house right now, looking after his two nieces who are about to become orphans, so excuse me if I don’t have the time or the inclination to care about your whims!”

  I stopped ranting long enough to draw breath and the other end of the phone was ominously silent. Probably just as well. I finished with, “I need to go and check on the girls, because nothing’s more important to me right now than making them feel safe.”

  Silence echoed down the line for another few seconds, before she said, “Good girl, Angela. Now you sound like a mother. Call me when you can.”

  She hung up, and I pulled the phone away from my ear to stare at it, stunned, and frankly disbelieving. And yet…she’d praised me. Perhaps for the first time I could remember.

  I was still getting over that five hours later when I’d showered, changed into sweats, checked on Fritha who was home safe with Kamal, and gone over the rest of my emails. Rosie had sent one saying, We need to finish the documentary. Can you come to my offices, then we’ll get your approval so we can air it? The network that makes Sunshine is interested now, but they won
’t be if we muck around too long.

  I appreciated the fact that she wanted my approval to finish the project, so I emailed back, perhaps indiscreetly, and said that I was with Jack for a few days, and to send it and any releases I needed to sign. I assumed I’d get an email with a link to a video of the documentary and could give speedy approval via email so Rosie could finalize the details.

  Without my phone, I couldn’t ask a lot of questions, and besides, my mind was scrambled by thoughts of what was happening at the hospital. When I couldn’t concentrate on Pinterest anymore, I put the tablet aside and realized I wanted to pray. The last time I’d done it, Jack had been riding in the back of the ambulance, fighting a severe allergic reaction. Somehow it made me feel closer to him.

  “I worship the lotus feet of Ganesha, and call on the son of Uma, the destroyer of all sorrows…” On and on I prayed, not letting myself despair, trusting that we were all strong enough to cope with whatever ensued. But it was hard, thinking of Jack at the hospital, desperate for his sister to live.

  When a car pulled up outside, I was so wound up, I jumped off the lounge and ran straight to the door, not caring if his parents saw me in sweats. I just wanted to be there, for Jack.

  He was climbing out of a dust-covered Range Rover, alone, and I feared the worst. But I kept that to myself as he walked slowly to the door and stopped in front of me. I wanted to cry for the look of pain on his face.

  I put a hand on my chest. “Is she…?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.” He stared into my eyes, his own hollow and suspiciously red-rimmed. “She said goodbye to me. She’s unconscious now. My parents are waiting, but…” His voice dropped into a whisper, “I can’t watch her die.” He shook his head again, looking big and beautiful and haunted. “I just can’t.”

  “I know.”

  All through the long journey to get to his property, I’d been so nervous about seeing him, but as he stood in front of me, gutted with grief, all that faded away and I suddenly knew what must happen. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek into his chest in the tightest most comforting hug I could manage.