Never fear, Libby. I will not leave you until it’s time. I also told you that you would not be staying in a hotel for long.
You’re such a comfort Matthias.
I try.
“If you don’t need anything fancy, I know my aunt is looking for a tenant for the apartment over her garage. It’s pretty roomy and set back on the property so you actually have privacy. She’s a widow and does a lot of traveling, so she likes to know someone’s around when she’s gone.”
“If it saves me from apartment hunting I’d be more than happy to look at it.”
“I’ll call Aunt Cyn and let her know you’ll be by.”
After that, Libby felt as if she was well on her way to making her first friend.
Libby was kept busy, which made the day go by fast for her.
She had forgotten how much fun it was to be with kids this age and also how much she could learn from them. But it was Becca her gaze turned to more and more often, and she couldn’t help wondering about the little girl.
During storytime, Becca sat close to the front of the group arranged in a half circle, but she still managed to remain apart from the others. And on the playground, she preferred pieces of equipment she could use by herself.
How could parents just abandon a child like Becca? Libby wondered to herself.
There’s always a reason, whether we understand it or not.
You’re beginning to sound like Confucius.
Where do you think the man learned about true philosophy? There was no mistaking the arrogance in Matthias’s tone.
By the end of the day, Libby was exhausted, but she felt more relaxed than she had in some time. If she had looked at herself in the mirror, she would have seen that her cheeks were flushed from her busy day and her smile came more readily.
She was busy straightening up the books when she noticed she wasn’t alone in the room. Becca sat quietly in a chair, her hands in her lap and her coat lying on the table beside her. A Winnie the Pooh backpack leaned against her feet.
“Mrs. Robinson is late sometimes,” Becca explained in her soft, whispery voice.
Libby walked over to the table and crouched down on her heels so she was at eye level with the child.
“Do you like Mrs. Robinson, Becca?” she asked.
Becca’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, as if she wasn’t sure what to say. “She lets me help her make cookies,” she replied. “And she has a cat. But King Tut is really old and he doesn’t like to play. He smells funny, too.”
Libby’s lips curved. “So he doesn’t like kids, huh?”
“He doesn’t like anybody but Mrs. Robinson, and even she can’t get him to smell nice,” Becca confided. “I tried putting some of Mrs. Robinson’s perfume on him once, but he got mad and scratched me. See?” She pulled back a sleeve and revealed a long, dark pink scratch along the inside of her arm.
“Cats aren’t very fond of perfume,” Libby said, feeling her facial muscles work overtime as she struggled not to laugh after hearing about the irate cat.
Becca looked past Libby. Libby turned to find a woman in her sixties enter the room.
“You must be Miss Libby. I’m Ada Robinson, Becca’s foster mother.” The woman smiled warmly. “I’m sorry I’m late. The Ladies Aid Society meeting ran longer than usual. Are you ready, Becca?”
The little girl nodded and stooped down to pick up her knapsack. She looked up at Libby.
“Goodbye, Miss Libby,” she whispered, before following the woman out of the room.
Libby settled in the chair Becca had just vacated. For a moment, she felt very cold.
“I promised myself not to leave myself open for any more hurt,” she whispered. It took several minutes before she could rouse herself to move. She had just finished straightening the books when Bonnie bustled in, walking in the modified duck waddle all pregnant women seem to have.
“Aunt Cyn will be more than happy to see you,” she announced. “She said if you’d like to come by tonight she’ll be home all evening.” She held out a piece of paper with a name, address, phone number and directions.
“This is very nice of you,” Libby murmured, studying the paper.
Bonnie waved off her comment. “You need a place to live and you may as well find a nice one. Besides, you don’t want a motel to eat up all your money, do you?”
“No,” Libby admitted, privately wondering just how much money she had. She still felt in the dark about a lot of things.
I would not worry if I were you. You have enough until you receive a paycheck.
“I’ll call her. Thank you.” She tucked the piece of paper in her skirt pocket.
“See you tomorrow.” Bonnie picked up a patchwork-quilt bag. “Unless one day was too much for you,” she joked.
Libby looked around the room, with its brightly colored posters on the walls, along with examples of the children’s artwork. She wondered why she had fought for so long returning to school, when this was where she truly belonged.
“No, one day wasn’t enough for me,” she murmured.
The moment Libby got back to the motel, she pulled the paper out of her pocket and dialed the number.
“Cyn here!” a woman’s husky voice answered.
Libby was taken aback by the robust, unorthodox greeting and couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment. She could only sit there holding the receiver.
“If this is supposed to be an obscene phone call, I do wish you’d say something and make my day,” the woman said.
“I’m sorry. I’m Libby Douglas. Your niece, Bonnie, told me to call you about the apartment,” she said.
“Oh yes, the new teacher. What time would you like to come by?”
“Is seven all right?” Libby racked her brain to figure out if she knew Cyn or not. Considering the town wasn’t all that large, she assumed she did. But nothing about the woman seemed familiar.
“Fine with me. Did Bonnie give you directions…? Good,” she stated when Libby assured her she had. “I’ll see you then.” She hung up as abruptly as she’d answered the call.
Libby replaced the receiver in the cradle and wondered what she was going to do next.
“What would I do if I were in my own home?” she said in a louder voice, in hopes Matthias would hear her.
You never seemed to find anything constructive to do, as I recall.
Stung by his words, even if they only echoed in her head, she sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed. She had slipped off her shoes before climbing on the mattress and now she contemplated her black-stockinged toes. She knew she should go out to get some dinner, but she couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for the idea.
She thought of all the times she’d been content to sit in the rocking chair in her room at home, just moving back and forth. She had sat there with Sara for hours, the few months she’d been allowed to hold her child in her arms. She would never forget the satisfaction of feeling the tiny body against hers as she nursed. Or the nights, especially the nights, when Tyler would sit up against the headboard, holding Libby against his chest while Libby either nursed Sara or just cuddled her.
If she closed her eyes, she could hear Tyler’s voice softly rumbling in the dark as he predicted that Sara would say Daddy before she said Mommy. Or that he wouldn’t allow her to date until she was at least thirty. Not to mention his musing that he should find himself a good shotgun for any boys who dared to sniff around his gorgeous daughter. No matter that Sara hadn’t even started eating solid food yet or tried any word at all. Tyler had been convinced his daughter was the smartest, most beautiful kid in the world.
Libby’s eyes snapped open and a tiny sob escaped her lips before she could stop herself. It wasn’t long before the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks and she was rolling over to cry into her pillow.
She knew why she was crying. This was the first time she didn’t have someone to comfort her in her sorrow.
Chapter Five
Libby looked at the addr
ess written on the paper, then up at the numbers painted on the side of the house near the front door. They matched.
Before she could ring the bell, the door opened. A woman wearing a flowing caftan stood in the light.
“You must be Libby. Come in, dear.” She ushered Libby through the doorway.
The moment Libby stepped inside, she could smell the pungent aroma of burning incense and hear Asian music playing softly in the background. She turned to the woman.
Libby was positive Cyn’s hair, piled high on her head in intricate curls, couldn’t really be that outrageous shade of red. Her silk caftan was a green color somewhere between a bilious lime and kiwi. Libby decided it wouldn’t have been so bad if it wasn’t for the bright orange poppies bordering the hem. Large emeralds dotted Cyn’s ears, throat and wrists, and when she walked, Libby couldn’t miss the emerald-studded toe ring. Her energy level was that of a woman in her twenties, but the lines around her eyes and mouth and the experience in her gaze showed her age to be much closer to sixty.
“Hello, Libby, I’m Cyn,” the woman said with a throaty laugh as she held out her hand. “Naturally, it’s short for Cynthia, but I love to make my brother crazy by using the nickname. He’s more than a little anal retentive at times.” She narrowed her eyes, studying Libby. “Bonnie thought you might like the privacy the garage apartment offers. And she felt I’d like you. The thing I wonder is if you think you can handle being around someone like me.”
Libby took on a reflective pose. “Does this mean you hold wild parties all the time and there’re men coming and going at all hours?”
“Orgies are held monthly. You have a standing invitation. The bikers usually don’t show up until spring.” She waved her hand toward the living room. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Have a seat and I’ll bring a glass in for you.”
Libby took in the furniture with a wary eye. Every piece was modular, in bright reds, blues and purples. The effect should have been jarring to the senses, but surprisingly, it wasn’t. She was a little worried about the chair that looked more like a bowl, but even that turned out to be comfortable. She jumped a little when the music abruptly switched to the Rolling Stones.
“I guess you can already tell I’m the rebel in the family,” Cyn announced, walking out of the kitchen carrying a large tray filled with two wineglasses, a bottle of wine, and crackers and cheese. “Bonnie said you’re taking over for her. Good thing, too. I looked at her just the other day and I was positive the baby was ready to pop right out.” She poured wine into the glasses and handed one to Libby.
Libby sipped the liquid and found it tart and refreshing.
“Do you have paperwork you’d like me to fill out?” she asked, reaching for a slice of cheese.
Cyn shook her head. “I dislike paperwork. Bonnie likes you and that’s enough for me. I can imagine, though, you’ll want to see the place before you decide on it.” She stood up. “Bring your wine with you.”
Libby hopped up to follow Cyn’s energetic stride through a kitchen that looked as if it had stepped out of the 1950s, sparkling and new.
“Please don’t worry that the apartment might be another facet of my personality,” Cyn assured the younger woman as they crossed a large backyard to a three-car garage. “While I enjoy my oddities, I understand others might not. I don’t believe in pushing my taste on others.” She headed for a set of well-lit stairs that ran up the side of the garage. “The outside lights are on a sensor and come on at dusk.”
Libby again quickened her pace to keep up with the older woman.
The small living room was furnished with a cream-and-blue-and-peach couch and an easy chair. A portable television was set on a small table. The tiny kitchen was meant for cooking for one, with every appliance in easy reach. Libby looked in the bedroom and found light wood furniture with a mauve-and-blue comforter on the bed.
All she would have to do to move in was pack her clothing and pick up groceries. “How much do you want for rent?”
Cyn quoted a price that was much lower than Libby expected.
Libby grinned. “If you want a tenant, you have one. I can move in tomorrow night.”
Cyn smiled and held up her glass of wine. The two women touched glasses in a toast.
THE NEXT MORNING, Libby had no problem waking up on time. At first, when she opened her eyes, she hoped she would be back where she belonged. That perhaps even Tyler would be sprawled out beside her, his mouth slightly open as he emitted soft snores.
Then she would roll over and curl up against him, savoring the heat of his skin. She would lightly scratch her fingernails across his chest. She’d wait for that slow smile to cross his face. Then his hands would suddenly shoot out and grab her, tickling her, demanding she apologize for interrupting his sleep. Knowing she was ticklish, he would increase his efforts until she was screaming with laughter. Then the laughter would stop as his mouth covered hers and his hands slowed, the tickles turning into caresses as their play evolved into another type of play.
She moaned at the memory. Just as quickly, she recalled something else. She and Tyler hadn’t made love since Sara died.
Libby sprang out of bed before the memories could completely swamp her. But even a cold shower couldn’t shock her into accepting the alternate reality she was trying to deal with now.
“I am never making another wish,” she vowed as she pulled on brown tights, then dressed in a cream-colored mock-turtleneck top and a brown corduroy jumper. While the jumper hung shapeless on the hanger, it gave life to her slender curves. “I will never blow out another birthday candle. I will never drop a coin in a wishing well. I will never break another wishbone. I will never look at another falling star!” She picked up a pair of tortoiseshell studs and added a matching pendant. A touch of pumpkin-colored lipstick was last and she was ready to go.
The day passed quickly for Libby. It wasn’t until rest time for the children that she thought again of Tyler. While Bonnie watched over the classroom, Libby made a quick run down to the office, and, luckily, found it empty. She looked for the telephone book and quickly turned to the B’s. She ran her finger down the listing until she found the one she wanted.
As she stared at Tyler’s name and address in print, she could feel her heart turning over. The address was familiar; the telephone number was not.
Then another thought occurred to her. What if Tyler was married?
You do have a worry streak, don’t you? If you are to work things out, would I have allowed him to be married?
“How would I know? He might be married if you thought I’d be better off with someone else or by myself,” she muttered, closing the phone book and sneaking back to her classroom.
THE MOMENT HER WORKDAY was over, Libby went to the motel and packed her car with her belongings. She was glad it didn’t take too long, since she wanted to do some grocery shopping next.
It still hurt seeing people she knew and who obviously didn’t know her as she roamed the grocery store, picking up what she needed.
When she exited the store, she could feel her face stretching into a smile.
Then she glanced in the direction of a barbecue restaurant at one end of the shopping center. It wasn’t the restaurant as much as the couple walking toward it that caught her attention.
Her stomach tightened into painful knots.
Her throat dried up.
Her skin burned.
She wanted to kill.
It wasn’t so much seeing Tyler Barnes, who was supposed to be her husband. It was seeing the woman with him that poured acid into her system.
Then it happened.
As if aware of her scrutiny, he turned his head and glanced over his shoulder. He was looking straight at her! Their gazes locked and held for a moment before the woman next to him said something to catch his attention.
Libby’s fingers tightened on the cart’s handle, so she wouldn’t fall to the ground.
<
br /> Her loving, wonderful husband was walking with the woman who had been Libby’s highschool rival. He was with a woman she practically hated with a vengeance. A woman who’d tried every trick in the book to snag Tyler. Libby had made sure Renee never got her hooks into him.
Or at least, she’d thought she had…
“Take off your coat, Renee. I want to see if you still have chubby thighs,” she muttered with feminine malice.
Chapter Six
“I cannot believe he is actually dating Renee Carter,” Libby muttered darkly. She unlocked her car door and tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. With anger still boiling deep inside her, she began throwing packages into the back. They bounced onto the seat as if they were eager to get away from her. “How could he forget what she’s like? She was with every boy in the senior class when she was a freshman!” Renee had a notorious reputation. She had even said she worked hard to get that reputation—and was more than happy to flaunt it no matter who she hurt in the process.
Libby continued raining curses on Tyler and Renee as she drove to Cyn’s.
And here I thought you’d be happy to have a chance to see your Tyler.
“Happy to see him with her?” Libby asked incredulously. “I don’t think so, Matthias. That wasn’t fair at all. I’m sent into an alternate world where my husband is cozying up with the woman most likely to do just about anything to make a man happy. Actually, she has done just about anything to make a man happy.”
Likely to make happy? In what way?
“I’m talking about her intimately knowing every guy in school before the year was out.” She parked the car in front of the garage. “Damn her bleached blond head.” She climbed out of the car and went back to the trunk.
“There you are, darling!” Cyn sang out, walking out the back door. This time she was attired in a peacock blue caftan and gold sandals. Scarlet nails peeked out from the thin straps of her shoes. “Would you like some help?”
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