While They Watch

by Sosie Frost

The doctor knew not to ask too many questions. He gestured for me to hand her over.

  And even that broke my heart. I turned away and fixed my clothes while he weighed her and took her temperature.

  “She’s gaining weight. In the healthy range.” He winked. “You’re doing good.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to tell her she had chubby thighs,” I said. “I’d hop from here to the child therapist across the hall.”

  He chuckled. “I’m not worried about you doing anything wrong.”

  “You’d be surprised. There’s so much advice out there. And everyone is telling you something different—”

  The bellowing echoed out from the waiting room.

  “Don’t put Vicks on babies!”

  The return shriek heralded the wail of crying children.

  “Don’t give babies water!”

  I flinched. So did Doctor Reece.

  “See?” He shook his head. “Plenty of schools of thought when it comes to childcare. As far as I’m concerned, you’re doing everything right.”

  “But she’s sick.”

  “Babies get sick,” he said. “It’ll be a couple long, miserable days while she recovers, but keep breastfeeding. You’re giving her antibodies to help combat the illness. Plus the skin on skin contact soothes her…and momma too, I bet. You can get a humidifier for her room to help as well.”

  I nodded, quickly. “Okay. What else?”

  “Don’t check your watch. She’ll fight it off on her own time.”

  He examined her ears, her heart, and gave her a once over before wrapping my wailing baby up and handing her to me.

  “And?” Shepard asked.

  “It’s a cold,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  The shouting rumbled through the office. “No Vicks!”

  I sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “No water!”

  “Positive?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not kuru?”

  Doctor Reece frowned. “Just what do you think is in your breast milk?”

  Shepard squeezed my shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor. Sorry for the emergency visit, but we were concerned.”

  The pounding on the door startled us all. A nurse burst inside, clutching a stethoscope, a rolled-up magazine, and a ripped piece of paisley fabric.

  “Doctor, I’m sorry, but we have a—”

  The enraged screams of two overly exhausted women pierced the hall. The cries preceded a tremendous crash, the wails of children, and the excited cursing of every nurse in the office. Two grabbed patient files and burst out the emergency exit to safety. One particularly brave woman grabbed her phone and started recording before she rushed into the waiting room.

  The nurse stared at the doctor. “We should call the police.”

  Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t bother. I’m a cop. I’ll handle it.”

  He motioned for me to wait and assisted the nurse, racing head-long into…

  World War Mommy.

  The battle began with a runny nose, lost binkie, and a deafening song from Frozen rattling the windows. Both mothers squared off an inch from each other’s faces.

  Wrangler made the first move, whipping Paisley with the strap of her purse. Paisley grabbed it, yanking it away before it smacked her again. That only rained the wrath of the diaper bag on her. Wrangler let loose, pummeling her with the unzipped baby bag.

  Diapers launched. Two popped into a ceiling fan only to be flung across the room, smacking a toddler and crashing into an anniversary flower arrangement at the stunned receptionist’s desk.

  “Bottle feeder!” Paisey yelled.

  Wrangler grunted. “Vicks rubber!”

  “Let it go, let it go!”

  The bag crashed once more over Paisley. A jolted container of baby powder sneezed a curtain of billowing whiteness over the waiting room. The blizzard of powder plumed over both women. They screamed.

  Then sneezed.

  Then shrieked again.

  “…can’t hold it back anymore…”

  “You use powder?” Paisley screeched. “That can cause lung problems!”

  “I’ve used it for three children!”

  “It’s a miracle they survived!”

  Wrangler struck again. A plastic container of wet naps crashed to the floor. The two toddlers exacted their revenge, ripping wipe after wipe from the container, flinging them into the air.

  Unfortunately, Paisley’s boy grabbed a block instead. He launched it across the room. It struck Wrangler’s five-year-old in the mouth.

  She promptly spit out a baby tooth.

  And squealed in abject horror.

  The five-year-old blustered into a tantrum, pitching the lost tooth at her younger siblings and rushing head-first into the wall. She attempted to rip her skirt, overturn the toddler’s tower of blocks, and take out her frustrations on an old copy of Vanity Fair. The mothers both shouted as she climbed a chair with a furious roar. Shepard raced across the room to catch her before she tumbled, but her hand flailed over the wall. She grabbed the first thing she could find to stabilize herself.

  The fire alarm.

  Sirens wailed. Lights flashed. The sprinkler system immediately burst, and a shower of ice-cold water poured over the entire waiting room. I tucked Clue closer to my breast.

  The kids screamed louder, rushing in hyper circles, half-yelling, half-chanting to the song on loop blaring from the iPad.

  “…the cold never bothered me anyway…”

  Shepard lowered the girl to the ground, but he braced himself with a copy of Better Homes and Garden before approaching the women.

  “Ladies…” His voice steadied, soft but commanding. “Let’s take a step back, okay?”

  Paisley had none of it. “Co-sleeper!”

  Wrangler fumed. “Juice giver!”

  “Ladies—”

  “…It's time to see what I can do…”

  The diaper bag swung again. Candy exploded from one pocket, quarters from another, and the children danced under a piñata of disorderly conduct.

  The Jolly Ranchers were collected first. Paisley’s boy-turned-vending-machine gobbled fifty cents worth of dimes before grabbing at a lollipop.

  “Disposable diaperer!” Paisley shouted.

  “Pacifier lover!”

  “Butt Powderer!”

  “Coin Eater!”

  “…Let the storm rage on…”

  Shepard ducked as the bag swung again. The handle ripped off, and the contents hurled into the wall. It crashed against a framed picture of a cartoon kitten and puppy, both wearing bandages and gnawing on thermometers. The glass shattered as the frame crashed to the ground.

  “Momma, the kitty!” The toothless five-year-old bellowed.

  “No!” The toddler squealed. “Puppy!”

  “Shut up, Braydon! Kitties are better!”

  “Puppy!”

  Wrangler launched for Paisley’s hair. “Formula feeder!”

  “Caesarian Getter!”

  “I had complications!”

  “…Let the storm rage on…”

  “Mommy!” The five-year-old pitched the iPad. It crashed into the fish tank.

  The glass shattered, and a deluge of water poured from the tank, scattering shells, coral, salt-water, and fish to all corners of the waiting room.

  Every child stilled, horrified.

  “Nemo!”

  “Enough!” Shepard shouted above them all. Everyone sit down! Kids. Get the fish. Put them in water.”

  When Wrangler attempted another slap, Shepard intercepted her hand and guided her to a seat.

  “Calm down.” Shepard silenced crazed mothers, children, doctors, and nurses alike.

  The only one he couldn’t convince to stay quiet? A tremendously inconvenienced and now damp Clue. I covered her as best I could, but the sprinklers raged a torrent of water over the fight.

  Shepard pointed at the women, the wat
er mixing with the powder to cover them both in sticky paste. “You’re lucky I don’t haul you all down to the station to finish this godda—darn fight.”

  The nurses bashed at the security alarm, somehow shorting the electrical system. The sprinklers stopped just as the power zapped out. At least it let the one nurse cover the broken glass and the other to dump three of the rescued fish in her Nalgene water bottle. The office settled into a quiet unease for only a few seconds.

  Then heavy boots crashed through the front door.

  Five police officers busted into the office, geared in SWAT team bullet proof vests and wielding riot shields and nightsticks. The door shattered under their kick, the children sobbed, and Shepard rushed forward, badge in hand, to calm the troops.

  The commanding officer frowned at the women. “What the hell is going on here?”

  Both pointed to me and spoke in unison.

  “She asked for advice!”

  Oh Lord.

  Shepard gestured for me to pick a path between shards of coral, wipes, and spilled candy. He guided me outside as the police took statements. He handed me the keys.

  “Sit in the car. Don’t drive off.”

  “I wouldn’t leave you to that zoo.”

  “Good. You don’t know how to drive.”

  “I do too!” I paused. “I think.”

  “No license.” He pointed at me. “No driving.”

  “No fun.”

  I hopped into the car, cradling Clue to my chest as I waited for the SWAT team to subdue the mothers and offer the kids additional sweets, quarters, and their first ride in a squad car. Fortunately, Shepard returned with a miracle.

  A gross, terrible miracle.

  He slid into the driver’s seat, turning only to ensure Clue was fastened in appropriately. He handed me a plastic tube, complete with tapered edge and a little mouthpiece.

  “What is it?”

  “That.” He mimed how it would work. “Is a snot sucker.”

  I threw it back at him.

  “The nurses said it’s the best thing for congestion.” He pointed to the end. “Stick that in her nose and then…”

  “Nope. Don’t even go there.”

  “Suck.”

  “And I thought those moms were crazy.”

  “Supposedly it works.” He handed it to me. “You might need it.”

  “There has never been a point in anyone’s life when they thought I don’t have enough baby snot in my mouth.”

  “You don’t eat it!”

  “Good. I’m still trying to lose some baby weight.”

  Shepard shook the baggie at me. “Wouldn’t you want to try anything if it helps her congestion?”

  Damn it. I grabbed it from him with a scowl. “Stop using emotional blackmail. Anything I say can and will be used against me in the nursery.”

  “You’d do anything for that kid, and you know it.”

  And no bodily function was going to scare me away.

  No matter how gross, disturbing, or mentally scarring.

  “Evie.” Shepard started the car, but he didn’t pull out yet, not while the police were still escorting the women to their own vehicles. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  My stomach roiled. Not what I needed now. No declarations. No confessions.

  I wanted a nap, a bath, and a burrito, and I’d do it all at once if I could.

  He lowered his voice. “You slept beside her crib last night. Alone.”

  “Who else would I have slept with?”

  His words warmed me. “I don’t like you doing this alone. I know you said that we shouldn’t…”

  He let the implication linger for a moment too long. “You should have someone to call if things get overwhelming or frightening or if you…”

  “What?”

  “Need a friend. You deserve that much.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I said.

  “Yes, I do. Until you get your memory back, I should be helping you. Doing everything I can for that little baby.”

  “We’ve talked about this.”

  He turned, watching me, his blue eyes almost steely grey in the morning light. Was that how they looked every morning, gentled from sleep but just as piercing, just as soul-searching as ever?

  “Evie, I know we made a mistake with that kiss, but we can act like adults about it.”

  “I’m worried we would have acted too adult.”

  “It wouldn’t have gone that far.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Physical limitations at the time being what they were, you’re probably right.”

  “So?”

  I was not having this talk. “Well, I’m healed up now.”

  “No, Evie.” Shepard groaned. “I mean…we can admit that we’re attracted to each other. Right?”

  I nodded to save any future humiliation.

  “I have a proposition for you,” he said.

  “That’s what almost got us in trouble.”

  “Then let me propose something.”

  “At least you’re being a gentleman about it now.”

  He liked the teasing, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “Let’s agree to be friends. I can help with the baby and give you a break every once in a while.”

  “I don’t need a break.”

  “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t use one,” he said. “And you need someone to help if there’s a problem. I don’t want you calling me at six in the morning if something is wrong with Clue.”

  The regret burned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

  “I want you to call me immediately.” His words edged sterner than they needed. “If there’s ever a problem, I want to be your first thought, got it? We can keep it platonic.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.”

  That relief was almost as thrilling as the moments when a flash of memory would unlock from the vault that was my mind. I rested against the passenger seat, trying to think of a way to explain the unexplainable to the only man I knew who would understand.

  “This was the first time I was scared,” I said.

  “Really?”

  “Well…actually scared. I felt like I could handle anything, even without my home and family.” I breathed deeply for the first time in a day. “I’ve lost an entire lifetime to this accident. It feels like I’ve only been alive as long as she has. But I keep thinking…”

  “Yeah?”

  I held his gaze. “I’d give up my past in an instant if it meant protecting what I had now.”

  “Nothing will happen to you or the baby.”

  “What happens if I lose my memory again? What if all of this goes too?”

  “It won’t.”

  “It better not.” My voice weakened. I swallowed to clear the shadow of fear. “I can deal with not remembering my past. But if I lost my memories of her? It’d destroy me.”

  Shepard reached for my hand. His fingers stroked mine before pulling away.

  “I have an idea.” His smile warmed through me, momentarily re-forging every crack that had appeared in a moment of weakness. “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “I might have to clear my schedule…diapers to change and babies to feed.”

  “Saturday. I’m going to pick you and Clue up, if she’s feeling better.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m giving you a surprise.”

  “I’m not sure if I should trust you, Shepard Novak.”

  “It won’t be the last time you say that.”

  No.

  Strange though.

  It didn’t feel like the first time either.

  10

  “I don’t like surprises.”

  I double-checked Clue’s car seat before turning on Shepard. He baited me with an arched eyebrow.

  “How would you know?”

  He couldn’t keep playing that card. “Because the last time I was surprised, a nurse handed me a living, squirming, tiny human being.”

  “That is one hell
of a surprise.”

  “Nothing like the stork leaping out from behind a hospital bed.”

  He chuckled. “I thought you liked that surprise?”

  “I had to. The hospital didn’t have much of a return policy.” I checked the baby in the mirror. “Only had thirty days to trade her in for store credit, isn’t that right, Clue?”

  “What would that earn you?”

  “About fifteen pounds of tongue depressors.”

  “Skip the gag reflex.” Shepard winked. “You should get a bucket of KY Jelly.”

  “What kind of girl do you take me for, Detective Novak?”

  “I hope I’m not being presumptuous, but my initial investigation concluded that you did, in fact, give birth to a child.”

  “I don’t remember it.”

  “Ah.” He smirked. “That settles it. You must be a virgin then.”

  “Innocent until proven guilty.”

  And I was most assuredly guilty.

  “Well?”

  I faked enthusiasm, curling my feet under me on the bench. My burger and fries went untouched. So did his. Neither of us had much of an appetite.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  I couldn’t look at him. “That’s great!”

  “Yeah.”

  I swallowed, drowning in a quick sip of my soda. At least no unnecessary words slipped out.

  Or pieces of my heart.

  “Was it romantic?” Maybe the dagger would twist enough to end my misery. “Dinner and dancing? A proposal under the stars?”

  “She didn’t like the ring.”

  That didn’t surprise me. Nothing he did ever seemed to please her.

  Didn’t she know how lucky she was?

  “Oh.” I nodded. “Is she still upset?”

  “Cried all night.”

  “So you didn’t get lucky then?”

  “If she’s still talking to me by the wedding, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

  “Penny for your memories?” Shepard gave a corny grin.

  “Not without my lawyer.”

  “I could make you talk.”

  “Yeah, and then I’d have a shiny nickel.” I picked at a button on my shirt. “Nothing new.”

  Lies. Lies. Lies.

  They came easier now that I knew what sort of woman I was before the accident.

  The kind who fell in love with the wrong type of man. One who was engaged. Starting a life of his own.