Chloe was growing rapidly. She’d learned to crawl, and we had to be extra watchful because she wanted to put everything in her mouth. She now ate many kinds of pureed food – mostly fruit and vegetables – and scrambled eggs.
She also babbled, and Nicole thought she was saying “dada” and I thought that was creative listening. I did notice that Chloe liked to put things together, like stacking cups and putting shapes into a puzzle ball.
There were times when I watched her that my heart would ache knowing that Gareth and Yvonne were missing her developmental milestones, but I consoled myself with the hope that perhaps they could watch her from heaven.
If there was a heaven.
I had been loosely raised to believe in God and a hereafter, but I was also a man of science. There was no real evidence of God, unless one accepted the arguments of intelligent design.
Nicole had more faith than I did, and she wanted to raise Chloe in the church, which was fine with me. At night, I often saw Nicole kneeling beside our bed, praying silently.
When I asked her what she prayed for, she said, “Primarily safety. I pray that God watches over you and Chloe and protects you.”
I thought that was sweet. “I suppose I can start praying for you, too.”
She smiled. “Would you really do that?”
“Sure.”
At the time, I had no idea that my prayers would so quickly be put to the test.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
NICOLE
I did not learn to swim, other than paddling around, until I was an adult, and I was determined that Chloe would not follow in my footsteps. I signed us up for Mommy and Me swim time at the local gym soon after I married Vidar and we went to classes twice a week.
The gym was much nicer than any gym I had visited when I was single. There were beautiful changing rooms with large showers. Usually Brooke came with me when we went to our swim class, but on this particular day, Brooke had a doctor appointment.
I debated whether I should skip the class, but then I felt like a wimp. Women all over the world took their babies places without a nanny along to help. I could do this.
Since I married Vidar, I could afford all kinds of help, but I didn’t want to become one of those pampered women who couldn’t – or wouldn’t – take care of themselves.
Getting the stroller into the back of my Toyota took longer than I anticipated.
When I got to the gym, I had to fight it again, unpacking it and setting it up. Chloe protested when I strapped her in.
Changing us both into swimsuits was a process, and when I had to take a bathroom break, I took Chloe and the stroller into the stall too. It was a tight fit.
When I came out, I met my friend Dorothy. “Don’t you have your nanny today?”
“No. Not today.”
Dorothy was an older woman with white hair who had a walker and wore one of those old-fashioned latex swim caps – the ones with plastic daisies on them. She took the senior adult water aerobics class after the Mommy and Me class. She often came early and was there, sitting on a bench in the changing room when I arrived. I’d met her a few weeks before, when she admired Chloe. “That’s a beautiful baby,” she’d said. “What’s her name?”
“Chloe.”
“How old is she?”
“Nine months.”
“She certainly is alert. Look at those pretty blue eyes.”
“Yes.” I was very proud of Chloe and thought she was beautiful and smart.
“Does she like to swim?”
“I think so.”
“That’s good. Everybody should learn how to swim.”
I agreed. I asked Dorothy if she had children.
“Yes. One son.”
“Do you have any grandchildren?”
“Yes,” she said. “A grandson, but I don’t get to see him. It’s a long story.”
“That’s too bad,” I said. I didn’t want to pry and knew that Dorothy would tell me more if she wanted to. After that first day, she always seemed happy to see Chloe and asked about her.
On this day, Dorothy was still in the changing room after we finished the swim class. She watched as I changed Chloe out of her wet suit and into dry clothes. I changed into dry clothes as well.
Something about Dorothy didn’t look right. She was still wearing her day clothes, so I asked if something was wrong.
“I’m a little tired,” she said. “I don’t think I’m going to go to my class today.”
“Well, I hope you feel better soon,” I said cheerfully. I decided to take a bathroom break before I drove home.
As I tried to maneuver the stroller into the stall, Dorothy offered to watch Chloe for me.
“Thanks,” I said. “It will just take a minute.”
I was in the stall and sitting on the toilet in an instant. I could see Chloe through the cracks between the stall door and the metal frame. I heard Dorothy say in a sing-song voice, “Aren’t you the most precious thing?”
And then the stroller and Chloe were moving away from me.
“What?” I said. I hastily pulled my clothes on and left the stall so see Dorothy pushing Chloe’s stroller through an emergency exit door.
I should have screamed for help, but in that moment, I thought that Dorothy was out of her mind, possibly with a form of dementia. “Dorothy, stop!” I cried.
She exited the building and I hurried after her.
Dorothy, no longer using a walker, ran towards a BMW sedan in the parking lot.
I caught up with her before she could reach the door. “What are you doing?” I cried and pulled the stroller from her surprisingly strong grasp. “You can’t take my baby.”
Ironically, Chloe looked fine, not bothered by the jolting journey at all. Thank goodness.
Dorothy reached in her purse and brought out something that looked like a remote control, but when she pressed a button, I felt a painful jolt of electricity go through me.
Had I been tasered? I fell to my knees in agonizing pain, screaming out loud, and then a few seconds later, it was over.
I shuddered, unable to talk for a moment, unable to think clearly. My tongue felt thick. “Don’t . . . take . . . Chloe,” I finally managed to say.
I watched as Dorothy opened the door to her car, then stare at the second seat as if confused. “I don’t have a car seat,” she said quietly.
“You can’t take her,” I repeated and struggled to stand upright.
Someone must have seen us in the parking lot, for another patron approached us. “Are you okay?” she asked. She helped me to my feet.
“It’s all a mistake,” Dorothy said quickly. “A terrible mistake. I can’t believe I did that. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I’m so sorry.”
“What happened?” the woman asked. “Did your taser go off by accident? That happened to a friend of mine.”
“I’m the grandmother,” Dorothy said. “I just wanted to see my granddaughter.”
I gasped. “DeeDee?”
She nodded. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
As strange as it was, I believed her. She reminded me a little of my mother when she was only slightly drunk and not thinking clearly.
The other woman said, “Should I call the police?”
In that instant, I knew that Vidar and the rest of the Nilsson family would not want to make this a police matter. “No,” I said. “We’ll work it out.” I made myself smile.
The woman persisted. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said.
The woman walked into the gym and I faced Dorothy. “This isn’t the way to get what you want. I’m going to have to tell Vidar and the lawyers.”
She suddenly looked ten years older and frail. Her shoulders slumped. “You’re right,” she said weakly. “I’ve lost Chloe forever now.”
From the tone of her voice, I knew that she loved Chloe, even if only in her own obsessive way. I said, “It’s not about the money, is it?”
“No,” she said. �
��Chloe is all I have left of my son. I can’t let her go. I can’t.”
She was still grieving her son’s untimely death, but that didn’t excuse her actions. I said, “Is that why you filed those nasty petitions, saying that Vidar is incompetent to be her guardian?”
She said, “I didn’t want to do that. The lawyers said I had to do it to get her back.”
I didn’t entirely believe that, but I had some sympathy for her. I said, “Are you willing to withdraw your petitions?”
Dorothy nodded. “Yes.”
Okay, that sounded like progress. I said, “I’m going to go home now, and I want you to follow after me in your car. I think it’s time for you and Vidar to talk face to face, not just through lawyers.”
Dorothy said, “I’ll do that. And I want to tell you again, I never meant to steal Chloe, I just wanted to see her.”
“How did you know about the swimming lessons?”
“That was easy. I had you followed,” she said simply. “I thought it would be enough if I could see her every week. But then today when the opportunity arose, I took it. I don’t know what came over me.”
She sounded like my mother after she’d had the misfortune to be caught after one of her impulsive misdoings. I wondered if Dorothy had an alcohol problem also. I waited until she was in her car before going back to the gym for my gym bag and purse. I then put Chloe in her car seat and drove home, with Dorothy – correction DeeDee – behind me.
I called Vidar, but he did not answer his phone and I didn’t want to leave a message. I didn’t know how to explain everything without freaking him out. Personally, I was freaked out myself.
Sweet Dorothy was DeeDee, the woman who was making our lives miserable?
I felt sorry for her, but I also knew that she’d deceived me, pretending to be someone else.to get closer to her granddaughter.
As I drove, I wondered if I should have called the police. I felt guilty and stupid for letting a stranger watch Chloe in the first place while I took a bathroom break. What had I been thinking?
Chloe was the Billion Dollar Baby. If Dorothy hadn’t taken her, someone else could have.
At a red light, I texted Vidar telling him that I wanted to meet him at the house.
I’m already here. What’s up?
I responded:
Be there soon.
I parked in front of the house with DeeDee parking her BMW behind me. I got Chloe out of her car seat. “Wait here,” I said to DeeDee.
“I will,” she promised.
I carried Chloe to the front door. I used my keys to open it. I quickly found Brooke who took Chloe from my arms and said she’d give her a bath. I walked through the house and found Vidar in the library. He said, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s DeeDee,” I said. “She’s parked out front.”
“What?”
I tried to explain. “She was at the gym during my swim class. She’s been talking to me for weeks. I didn’t know who she was at first, and today she tried to take Chloe, but I stopped that . . .”
Vidar did not wait for me to finish. He ran to the front door and out to the street. “Get out of here!” he bellowed. “Before I call the police.”
I tugged on his arm. “Vidar, please! That might not be necessary. She says she’s willing to drop the petition.”
He turned around sharply and looked at me as if I was crazy. “And you believe her?”
“I don’t know, but I think you should talk to her.”
“Are you on her side now?”
“No, but she is Chloe’s grandmother. I’m not saying she should have custody, but maybe there can be some kind of visitation? Supervised?”
From the look on his face, I could tell that he didn’t comprehend what I was saying. He was furious. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I trusted you.”
“Vidar,” I began. “Let me explain –”
“Go!” he shouted angrily. “Just stay away from me and Chloe. I never want to see you again!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
NICOLE
It was our first fight, and it was a doozy. I could tell that I wouldn’t make anything better by trying to talk to Vidar, so I just walked back to the house, got my purse and walked quickly to my Toyota and drove off. I knew that Brooke would take care of Chloe, and Vidar would decide what he wanted to say to DeeDee.
I still felt terrible after being tasered. My muscles ached, and I knew I didn’t have my complete mental capacity.
I drove around for an hour, debating on where to go. I would have gone to Nilsson Tower, but I didn’t want Vidar to find me just yet.
He wasn’t the only one who needed to process things.
I checked myself into a nice hotel – not Nilsson – and went to sleep.
When I woke a few hours later, I discovered that I’d drooled on the pillowcase and I looked terrible with wild hair and circles under my eyes.
I checked my phone and there were no messages. No calls or texts from Vidar. And it was after seven p.m.
That was a bad sign.
What was I supposed to do now?
I didn’t really think he meant that ‘I never want to see you again’ line, but what if he did?
He’d warned me multiple times that communication was not one of his strengths, but I had never anticipated that something bizarre like DeeDee trying to kidnap Chloe would tear us apart.
Again, I wished there was someone I could talk to, but even if I did have a female friend I could dump on, I wouldn’t want to complain about Vidar – that didn’t seem loyal.
Over the years, I’d had many friends who told me about their boyfriends’ or husband’s faults, including affairs or addictions, and our friendships had always suffered later when they eventually forgave their men and took them back.
Was I supposed to be happy for a woman who took back a cheating scumbag or a manipulative alcoholic?
Not that Vidar’s angry outburst was the equivalent of either. He was a good man in a difficult situation. But I didn’t want to parade his weaknesses before the world.
And heaven knew I wasn’t perfect either. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t recognized DeeDee. I’d seen various small pictures of her online, but apparently, they hadn’t been clear enough for me to recognize her at the gym in a swimming cap.
I kneeled beside the hotel bed and prayed out loud. Dear God, I need thee. I need wisdom. I thank thee for my husband Vidar. He is angry, and I don’t know how to make things right. Please comfort his mind. Help him to see that I love him.
I stopped short. Where did that come from?
Did I love Vidar?
As I thought about him, imagining him standing before me, my heart was filled with warmth. At that moment I knew – yes, I did love him. And this was a strong, mature love, not the foolish infatuation I’d felt for Peter years ago.
I genuinely loved Vidar and wanted nothing but good for him.
Wow. I was blessed with a second, no third, chance at love.
No wonder his words hurt me so much.
I continued with my prayer. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to text or call, in case that makes it worse. Should I wait for him to contact me?
I paused and waited, listening quietly for some hint of inspiration.
I thought of a line from our marriage vows. What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder.
Okay, I could see the wisdom in that. Vidar and I were husband and wife. I should not run away. I should give us a chance to make things right.
Thank you, Lord.
After I prayed, I took a shower and then ate a nice meal at the hotel restaurant. I was not in a hurry, and I wanted to be calm when I returned home.
I drove back to the house on Swiss Avenue and parked in front. Not many lights were on. When I came inside I straightened my shoulders and called out, “Vidar, are you home?”
No answer.
I walked through the house and found Mrs. Perez finishing cleaning in the kit
chen. “Is Vidar at home?”
She looked nervous. “No, ma’am.”
“Did he say when he’d be home?”
“No, ma’am. He also took Chloe with him.”
That made sense because Brooke would have gone home by now. “Thank you,” I said.
“Do you want anything to eat, ma’am?” she asked.
“No, thank you.”
I went upstairs to the master bedroom alone.
AFTER TWO DAYS OF NO word from Vidar, I decided that someone had to talk, or we might be separated for years. I texted him the following:
Am I still in the doghouse? We need to talk.
A few minutes later, after I’d nearly chewed off all my fingernails, I received the following:
Are you at home?
I answered:
Yes
His response:
On my way.
I was relieved to finally speak with him, even if it was only by text, but oh, how I wished that he had put a smiley face on at least one of those lines.
I changed my clothes twice and paced back and forth in the master bedroom, waiting for him. I had no idea what ‘on my way’ meant timewise, because I had no idea where he had been. After half an hour, I looked out the front windows and saw Vidar’s driver approach the house.
I steeled my courage and walked downstairs to meet him, praying silently for help.
Vidar walked into the house and handed Chloe to Elizabeth. I’d told her to come every day, even if Chloe wasn’t home because I did not know when she would be home.
When Vidar saw me, his face grew pale. “Hi.”
“Let’s talk privately upstairs,” I said and we both walked back upstairs to our bedroom and he shut the door. Elizabeth and Mrs. Perez must know that something was going on, but I didn’t want them to hear all the details.
He said, “Can you forgive me?” just as I said, “I’m so sorry about DeeDee.”
Love Letters from a Billionaire (Lone Star Billionaires, #1) Page 8