“You’re firing me?’ she asked, heat and excitement flowing through her. “I thought you’d enjoyed my cooking.”
“I loved your cooking. I’m doing this badly. What I mean is I don’t want to be just your employer. I’d break every rule there is about employer-employee relationships. I want more than that. I can’t explain it, but you’ve made me feel more alive in the last twenty-four hours than I have in the last twenty-four months. I want to get to know you and see if this attraction can become something deeper, something permanent.”
“Nick, I — ”
“Don’t say anything. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but this feels too real to ignore it.”
She reached up to touch his face and placed a finger on his mouth to shush him. “I’d like that.”
He bent his head and kissed her tenderly, a kiss full of promise — a light, feathery exploration of her sweetness. She opened her lips and the kiss deepened. His tongue slipped past her teeth, invading her mouth, dueling, and dancing with her own. She tasted the wine he’d consumed and, mixed with his own unique flavor, he was intoxicating. The heat she’d felt earlier pooled low in her stomach, and when he pulled her more tightly against him, she felt proof that the kiss excited him, too. She wanted to stay in his arms, but she knew they had to slow things down. There were too many unanswered questions between them — too many secrets — all of them hers. She slowly pulled away and looked into his eyes. She could see desire there that matched her own.
“I’m really glad you and Debbie have moved in. This place has been too quiet for far too long.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Misty answered, the emotions battling within her. “Goodnight, Nick.”
She pressed her lips gently against his once more before moving out of his arms and hurrying up the stairs.
• • •
Misty closed and locked the apartment door. She was trembling, but tonight it wasn’t with fear. It was with excitement and need. She walked slowly to her room and started to undress. How could a kiss be so overwhelming? Kevin’s kisses had been pleasant, but they’d never turned her on like this. Her lips still tingled from Nick’s, and she could taste him. The brief contact with his body created a longing deep inside her, a longing she knew instantly wasn’t just lust. Can a person fall in love so quickly?
She looked at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser and groaned. She looked awful. The bags under her eyes were darker than usual. The lack of sleep definitely showed.
What bags? She thought, looking at the dark circles. Those are big enough to be reclassified as suitcases. She was momentarily grateful that Nick couldn’t see her, and then she felt guilty for being selfish. No one deserved to suffer the way he had.
She hadn’t worried about her appearance in four years; why should she start now? In a childish move, she stuck her tongue out at her reflection and turned away. Hadn’t she learned the hard way that what you saw wasn’t always what you got? She might not look her best, but she felt wonderful — safe, protected, cared for. Had she found the sanctuary she’d sought for so long?
She finished undressing, put on her nightshirt, brushed her teeth, and washed and creamed her face. Her hair needed to be colored and trimmed again; she could see the lighter roots, and it was losing its shape and starting to curl. She thought about letting it grow out and sighed. She couldn’t, not until she was sure no one was looking for Shannon O’Hara. She’d make an appointment to have it done in Potsdam sometime next week. Debbie needed a trim, so they could make a day of it. She’d mention it to Charlotte and see if she wanted to come as well.
Misty hadn’t slept well last night. Thanks to her nightmares, all the memories she’d suppressed had come back with a vengeance, but she was a stronger person now, and she wasn’t alone. Why she’d relived the horrendous last few days of her marriage, she couldn’t imagine, but it had to have something to do with the fire and her fear of being discovered once more.
It has to have been an accident, she thought, turning down the covers. There is no way we can move again — not now, not when I’ve found someone to love. When Debbie had been an infant and then a toddler, they’d been alone. The changes of names and locations had been bearable, but a child her age wouldn’t understand why she wasn’t Debbie anymore, and why she had to leave everything, including her best friend, behind. This place was her daughter’s dream come true. How could she take it away from her? She wondered what would happen if Debbie were to get too attached to Nick; but hadn’t she already crossed that bridge herself? She knew leaving him would create an emptiness within her she’d never be able to fill. She wondered how Nick would react if Debbie asked him to be her daddy. She smiled at the idea. Blind or not, he’d probably run for the hills.
• • •
She woke instantly the moment she heard Debbie scream and knew that what she’d feared most had happened. And on our first night, she groaned inwardly. Nick may not be quite so happy to have us here now.
She remembered what she’d said to him earlier. “Be careful what you wish for” had turned out to be eerily prophetic. No one would wish for this. She hurried into Debbie’s room and found her daughter covered in sweat, sitting up, eyes wide open, staring at something no one but she could see and howling and shrieking as if all the hounds of hell were after her. Charlotte hurried in behind her and lifted a drowsy Christy out of her bed and carried her into the living room.
Misty sat on the bed and pulled the stiff child into her arms, trying to comfort her, and started to rock her, murmuring words to calm her, but the tears and the screaming continued. Misty began to sing to her, hoping against hope that it would work this time as it had before, but Debbie continued to wail. All Misty could do was hold the terrified child in her arms and pray the dream would lose its grip on her mind.
Suddenly, the soft, gentle sound of the piano playing Brahms’ lullaby came out of the walls themselves and brought with it a soothing calm and serenity. Nick must have opened the intercom in the music room, and since she’d left it open in here, the sound permeated the room. Debbie’s subconscious reacted to the relaxing music, and she quieted. Within minutes, the bawling turned to sobs and the sup-sups. Her body lost its stiffness, and she relaxed into Misty’s arms. When the child remained pliant, Misty removed her wet nightclothes and redressed her in a pair of identical pajamas. She’d learned that waking up in different jammies upset the child, so she always bought two pairs of each. The only good thing about the terrors seemed to be the fact that Debbie had absolutely no memory of them when she woke.
Misty laid the slumbering child back on the bed and covered her. She leaned over and kissed her brow, smoothing her damp hair from her face. The child would sleep through the rest of the night now, but how much longer would these terrible dreams torture her this way?
Charlotte carried in the sleeping Christy and settled her into bed. She gave Misty a hug before going back to her own room.
Misty stood there, listening to the calming music. She looked down at her daughter and allowed the tears to run down her cheeks. She was so tired of the uncertainty and fear in her own life. She didn’t know what she’d do without Charlotte and now Nick. He had his own problems, yet he’d quickly come to their aid, offering them a home and security. A few moments ago, instead of ignoring the situation, he’d found a way to soothe the frightened child. She heard Debbie sigh.
“I like the piano man’s music, Mommy,” she mumbled in her sleep before turning over.
Misty turned and left the room. I like the piano man, she thought. I like him a lot.
The music continued as she walked down the hall and into her room. She settled into bed, trying to get back to sleep, but her tears persisted. Slowly, the music changed, and she realized he was no longer playing Brahms. The music was a bluesy jazz number she recognized and it brought her instant comfort. She stopped
crying and began to hum the love song that had always been her favorite. She’d chosen her name because of it. She closed her eyes, and in her imagination, she heard Ella Fitzgerald singing. As the words to “Misty” echoed in her head, each line of the song seemed to describe exactly what she felt. She smiled. She liked the piano man’s music, too.
• • •
Nick softened his playing and listened. He couldn’t hear Debbie crying now. He hoped it was a good sign, and that his idea to soothe her had worked. The saying went “Music has charms to soothe a savage breast,” and he’d prayed it would calm a terrorized child. How Misty had managed to cope with those night terrors on her own was beyond him. She’d been through so much. He wanted to share the burden with her.
He sighed deeply and continued to play softly, admitting to himself that he was dead tired. When he’d awakened and heard Debbie screaming, he’d been terrified something had happened to the child, and had been about to rush upstairs when he’d remembered what Micah had said about night terrors. He knew Misty had forgotten to turn off the intercom since the screams were as loud as they’d be if the child were in the kitchen. He’d known he’d be unable to sleep while the child and her mother suffered like that, so he’d done what he’d always done when he was upset. He’d played. Brahms had seemed like a good choice.
What in the world could terrify a child that age? What kind of monsters could plague her? It almost made him believe in reincarnation — the idea of some terrible memory from a past life was the only thing that made sense. He wondered again if the child’s terrors could be related to her mother’s fears.
Playing the piano and opening the intercom, piping the music through the sound system, had been a risk. It could easily have backfired and made matters worse, but Micah had said Misty sang to her, so he’d given it a shot. He had an idea that might work, maybe a way to prevent the bad dreams, and he’d talk to Misty about it in the morning. It would mean revealing something about himself, but if it helped the child and her mother, it would most definitely be worth the risk.
He thought of the kisses he and Misty had shared, and the idea of returning to his cold, empty bed had no appeal. Misty. She’d become his light in the darkness. He’d fallen in love with her. He wanted her in his arms, in his bed, in his life always. He pictured them doing all the things with Debbie he’d planned to do with his own child. He continued to play, but this time, instead of Brahms, he played the old love song that had run though his mind the first time he’d heard Misty’s name. The words poured softly from his mouth in his rich baritone voice. Misty. She’d created a yearning in him for so much more than he’d ever imagined having again. He was as deeply in love as the man who’d penned the lyrics.
Chapter Twelve
The tantalizing aroma of fresh-brewed coffee lured Nick from sleep, and it took him a moment to realize his world was gray, not black as it had been for months. His heart raced, and his palms grew wet. Was it real or was he dreaming? He opened and closed his eyes several times before admitting to himself that, while he couldn’t really see anything, he could definitely perceive light. He got up, walked into the en suite bathroom, and closed the door. He fumbled for the light switch and turned it on. The blackness disappeared, and the gray took its place.
He laughed. It might not be much, but it was noticeable and definitely real. It had to be an improvement. He’d contact his doctor immediately and book an appointment with the psychiatrist to discuss conversion disorders and Debbie’s night terrors. If Nick had his way, they’d be a family one day, and the child’s problems would not only be Misty’s but his, too.
He understood his feelings for Misty and Debbie — the need to protect them, keep them close — was a big emotional change for him. He’d let go of the guilt he’d felt about the past to embrace the future and the woman and child who needed him and made him feel alive. He prayed his eyesight was coming back, but he wouldn’t say anything to anyone until after he’d spoken to the doctor. It might never get better than this.
Nick took a shower and dressed. He stepped out of his room and listened to the sound of Misty’s voice. She was singing a children’s song about a woman swallowing a fly and assorted other animals that had Debbie and Christy giggling. He loved the sound of children laughing. He walked down the hall to the kitchen and stood listening to her finish the song. He applauded.
“Good morning. I hope we didn’t wake you. It’s only seven.” Misty’s voice affirmed she was happy to see him. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please. How long have you young ladies been up?”
“Hello, Mr. Nick,” said Debbie. “Not long. The sun was up before us. Mommy made chocolate chip pancakes. I love pancakes. We can play on the climber today. You said so.”
“Good morning, Debbie.” Was conversation with a four-year-old always like this, jumping from one topic to another? “Good morning, Christy, Charlotte. Guess what? Pancakes are my favorite breakfast, too. I can’t wait to taste the ones your mommy has made. I’m glad you waited for the sun to get up, and yes, you can play on the climber. How’s the new bed?” he asked.
“It’s good, and I slept with my eyes closed, so I got to see all my new things all over again this morning. I like the dollhouse best. Will one of the mans be able to fix my trike?”
“Men, sweetie. Remember, one man, two men.” Misty set the cup of coffee on the table. “Cream, two sugars at twelve o’clock. Do you want breakfast now, or do you want to wait?”
“Have you eaten?”
“No, I thought I’d wait for you. Nathan and Charlotte have, and he’s gone back up to check on something on his computer. Charlotte’s waiting to take the girls outside as soon as they finish. By the way, it isn’t too late to back out of the movie deal. They’ve chosen Cinderella.”
“Not on your life. Talking mice and ugly stepsisters are my favorite. I’ll wait until the girls are finished to eat.”
“Cinderella is my favorite, too,” cried Debbie. “Did you know I have a magic lamp in my room? It puts stars on the ceiling. Mommy said I can go and play outside after I finish breakfast.”
He heard Charlotte stand. “I’ll go and get our coats. The play area is dry, so you don’t have to worry about the boots. I’ll be right back.”
“Am I finished, Mommy?” Debbie pleaded, so he knew she must still have food on her plate.
“One more big bite and you’re good to go.” Nick heard the tap come on and the sound of Misty’s feet approaching the table. “Let me clean your hands and face or you’ll have more sand stuck on you than on the ground.” Debbie giggled.
Charlotte re-entered the kitchen.
Nick turned to her. She smelled of vanilla and lavender, another scent he found pleasant. “How’d you sleep last night? I know you were late getting down and then up early.”
Charlotte laughed. “Those are normal hours for me; I’m a bit of a night owl. As a matter of fact, I slept very well. I can’t thank you enough for this. Nathan promised to come and keep me company when he’s done. Debbie, are you ready to go out now? I brought down your jacket.” Nick heard the hopefulness in her tone when she’d mentioned Nathan.
The sound of the chair scraping indicated Debbie had pushed away from the table.
“Debbie, I’m sure John can get your trike fixed up today. We’ll have to see about getting one for Christy, too.”
Charlotte laughed. “I’m pretty sure you have one outside already. Nathan mentioned he’d ordered one.”
“Listen to Charlotte out there, and if you leave the fenced area, don’t wander off.” Misty admonished Debbie before the three of them went out the door.
He heard the sound of a plate and cup being placed on the table. “I refilled your coffee — it’s at ten o’clock, orange juice is at two, pancakes and sausage are in the center, and the syrup is at twelve. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just
your company, and you can tell me why you’re upset.” He’d heard edginess in her voice when she’d placed his food on the table. Had he made the wrong choice last night? He hadn’t wanted to ask while Debbie was in the room.
She set her own plate and juice on the table, went back and poured coffee for herself, and finally sat down across from him.
“I’m not upset. If anyone should be upset, it should be you. I should have told you about Debbie’s night terrors. I wanted to thank you for what you did last night. I don’t know how you knew the music would calm her, but it did the job. I was afraid you might say something to her just now. We don’t talk about her bad dreams. Laura says it’s better since she doesn’t remember them and dwelling on them will just upset her.” He heard her take a mouthful of coffee. “You play beautifully, you know. When I look at your hands, they seem so familiar; that sounds silly, doesn’t it?”
“Not really. I have an idea I’d like you to consider. I knew about the possibility of Debbie having an episode — Micah explained it to me on the way home the other night, so you have nothing to feel guilty about.” He let his words sink in. “I was thinking we might be able to ease the night terrors by piping the music into Debbie’s room when she goes to sleep. Micah said they happen within the first three hours of sleep, so if the music played in the background, maybe the dreams wouldn’t come.”
“That’s a great idea. I can pick up a CD player and some CDs after rehearsal. I have to stop and get some things for tonight, and I forgot to get Debbie rubber boots. There’s no guarantee the music will help, but it can’t hurt.”
“You don’t need to get anything. The house is equipped with a sound system that runs through the intercom. That’s how I was able to play so she could hear me last night. As far as the music goes, I have an extensive CD collection, including about twenty CDs of my own. At least ten of them are soft enough to do the trick.”
He set down his fork and placed his palms on the table. “You said my hands look familiar. If you were in Boston or New York about five years ago, they were plastered all over billboards and posters. They were used as the cover image for a set of CDs as well.”
In Plain Sight Page 14