Love Burns

by Adrian J. Smith

  “The doctor will make your owie better, Mama. I promise.”

  Tears brimmed in Kimberly’s eyes, and she bent her head to brush a kiss into his hair. When she looked over at Becca, she seemed enraptured in the moment. Kimberly afforded her a small smile before she closed her eyes and focused on Michael. He was her priority, day in and day out. He was the reason she wanted to advance her career—so she could care for him without any help.

  She stroked Michael’s hair gently as he snuggled into her side, staring beyond him at Becca. She clenched her jaw as she recalled how she’d treated her earlier that night. Even as closed off as she was, she knew she’d been nasty in a way that was unnecessary.

  “I’m sorry about earlier,” she confessed.

  Becca jerked in her direction. “What?”

  Kimberly bit her lip, annoyed she had to repeat herself. “I’m sorry about earlier. About what I said.”

  “You didn’t say anything that offended me.” Becca leaned forward, glancing at Michael before her gaze settled on Kimberly.

  “Maybe not, but I wasn’t exactly nice.”

  “Hmm. Well, I won’t argue with you on that one.” Becca folded her hands together.

  Kimberly wanted to say something, something out of anger, but she held her tongue. “I was mean. I was in pain, which is not a valid excuse, but I’m sorry.”

  “There… That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Becca’s lips turned up in a smile. “Thank you for apologizing. I get the sense you don’t do that often.”

  The humility in Becca’s tone took Kimberly off-guard. Becca wasn’t wrong, but it made her feel uneasy that someone she had known less than a week was able to pin so much of her down. Unsettled, Kimberly tugged lightly on Michael’s hair.

  “When the doctor comes in, you’re going to have to move. Okay, kiddo?”

  “Okay,” he whispered, sleep lacing his voice.

  They lay quiet for another ten minutes or so before there was a slight knock on the door, then it opened. Michael didn’t rustle. Kimberly shifted to sit up a bit more, making sure the ice stayed firmly in place on her left wrist.

  “Hi, I’m a PA here at the hospital. My name is Greg.” He looked down at the chart in front of him. “Seems you had a fall and hurt your wrist.”

  “Slipped in the kitchen,” Kimberly added. “Put my hand out to catch myself, which was only semi-successful until I landed hard on my ass.”

  Greg looked up without moving his head, eyeing Kimberly. “We’ll probably get some X-rays of your wrist to make sure it’s not broken and put it in a wrap. If it is broken, you’ll need to get a cast at the orthopedist. We’ll give you that referral if you need it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me look at it.” Greg set the chart on the counter before rubbing some hand sanitizer between his hands. He came around the other side of the bed and carefully took the towel and icepack off. He lifted her wrist, didn’t move it much, poked here and there then set it down with the ice on top of it. “We’ll get some X-rays and go from there. It’ll be a few minutes before they come in.”

  “Okay.” Weariness seeped into her voice, and she was ready to go home, have a glass of wine, watch her favorite show and crash for the night.

  Quiet fell over the room again as they waited, and waited, and waited some more. Michael snored away from his position next to Kimberly. The X-ray technician came into the room, wheeling the machine with him, and Becca stood up. Kimberly watched, curious, as Becca came over and rolled the sleeping toddler from the bed into her arms. She cradled him against her chest.

  “We’ll be outside until you’re done,” she whispered before heading out of the door.

  Kimberly watched until she couldn’t see them anymore. Sighing, she listened and followed instructions. She had the lead vest pressed over her chest and painfully positioned her wrist on the machine. Three times over, she had to reposition and wait for the picture to be taken. Once the tech was done, he wheeled the machine out, and Becca came in with Michael still sleeping in her arms.

  “He’s out cold,” Becca said as she sat on the end of the bed.

  “Must have had a busy day.” Kimberly reached down and ruffled his hair. “I know I broke it.”

  “And you didn’t come straight here because…?”

  Kimberly stared at her shoes like she’d already been scolded. “I can’t work with a broken wrist.”

  “Bullshit. You can. It’ll just take some modifications, some serious patience and some tenacity—all of which I’m sure you can muster.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk.” Sarcasm dripped off her tongue.

  “You treat all the nannies this way? Because if so, I can see why you go through one a month. I’m surprised anyone even makes it that long.” Becca stared straight at Kimberly.

  The spotlight was on her. Kimberly knew her own issues with her personality. She was considered a great chef with a bad demeanor. She heard it every day in the restaurant when they thought she couldn’t hear them, and she often heard it from the camera crew each time she filmed. She had been hardened over the years, for sure, but rightfully so.

  Kimberly glared. “I pay well. But if you’d prefer to leave, the door is open. I’m not keeping you.”

  “Perhaps I pity you.”

  “Not my problem.” Kimberly leaned against the pillows again, trying to ignore Becca as best she could. Michael was already far more attached to Becca than he had been to the last four or five nannies. And Kiddie Academy had told her that if Becca quit or was fired, she would be dropped as a client. Backtracking, Kimberly let out a breath. “I didn’t mean that. I seem to be apologizing to you a lot.”

  After a few moments of silence, Becca shook her head. “That wasn’t actually an apology, but I’ll take it as such since you admitted you were wrong.”

  “I…I am sorry.”

  Straightening her shoulders, Becca shifted ever so slightly so their thighs met. “I’ll give you this round because I have no doubt you’re in pain, but don’t think you can treat me this way tomorrow or from here on out.”

  Thoroughly scolded, Kimberly chose not to speak. Every time she’d opened her mouth around Becca lately, she’d seemed to instantly regret it. Becca hadn’t had to bring her to the ER, she hadn’t had to take care of Michael during her off hours and she didn’t have to consistently be nice to her. Kimberly was certainly better off keeping her mouth shut for at least the rest of the night.

  Luckily, the PA came in and broke the awkward tension. “It looks like you have a clean break.”

  “Shit,” Kimberly muttered.

  “A nurse will come in and wrap it to keep the swelling down, and we’ll get you set up with that referral, but since you work with your hands, I would strongly suggest you not work until you can see the ortho.”

  “That won’t be happening. I’ll take it easy, but I have to work.”

  Greg was halfway in and halfway out of the room. He stared Kimberly down, but must have given up, because he nodded and left. Becca looked surprised, but Kimberly shrugged almost nonchalantly.

  “I have to work. I have shows booked that I can’t cancel simply for a broken wrist. It’s not my dominant hand. It’ll slow me down, I’ll wear a glove and I’ll be careful, but I have to work. That is non-negotiable.”

  “He said a week, at most really. Just until you can get in to see the specialist.”

  “I’ll give it tomorrow, but that’s it.”

  “You’re a bad patient.”

  Kimberly chuckled. “You are not wrong, Becca. Though I never claimed to be a good one.”

  They were there another hour before they were finally released to head home. Michael slept through most of it, but Becca woke him up when it was time for them to leave and had him walk next to them to the car. Kimberly slid into the passenger seat and let out a short grunt of pain when her hand hit the center console. Sore as she might be, she didn’t want to let Michael or Becca know how much pain she was truly in.

  The di
stinct clicks of the car seat let her know Becca would be joining her up front soon enough. Kimberly rubbed her eyes as the weariness of the day seeped into the rest of her unbroken bones. Of course she would break her arm a week before leaving town for a competition. She would have to make some serious phone calls come morning.

  The drive home was mostly spent in silence. Becca drove carefully and pulled into the driveway. Kimberly went ahead of her, opening the doors and turning off the alarms as Becca carried Michael inside. Luckily, he was already dressed for bed, so Becca took him straight to his room and settled him in before coming back out to Kimberly.

  Kimberly sat on the stool at the counter by the kitchen. Her stomach grumbled, and she remembered she had barely touched her dinner, which was very unlike her. No one would accuse her of missing a meal, ever. Kimberly stared longingly at the refrigerator, debating if she had enough energy to go find the left-over dinner.

  “Want some dinner?”

  “Yes… God, yes.”

  Shaking her head, Becca opened the fridge, pulled out the leftovers and heated them. It wasn’t long before a warm plate of pre-cut chicken was set in front of Kimberly. Taking her first bite, Kimberly moaned as the flavors hit her mouth. She ate liberally and ignored Becca, who remained in the kitchen.

  Once she was done, Becca was already cleaning up. Kimberly grabbed Becca’s hand as she reached for a pan that remained on the counter from before they’d left. “Don’t worry about cleaning.”

  “Habit,” Becca muttered.

  “My habit is to pay someone else to do it.” Kimberly laughed lightly. “Advantage to working in a restaurant with dishwashers. It sucks when they’re drunk and don’t come to work, but eh, no dishes is a definite plus.”

  “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile all night.”

  Warmth blossomed in Kimberly’s belly. As much as she wanted to ignore the feeling, she couldn’t. It felt good to finally be able to talk with someone about something other than work or her ex-husband. She hadn’t realized how lonely she had become over the last few years.

  “Been a rough day,” Kimberly answered.

  “True. And with that, if you’re demanding I stop cleaning, I’m going to head to bed. I imagine you won’t be in fighting form in the morning.”

  “You are probably right. But, before you go, can I ask you one last favor?”

  “Sure.” Becca leaned against the counter with her hip, a smile on her face and her pale blue eyes sparkling. She looked relaxed for the first time since they’d met. “What do you need?”

  Kimberly lifted her broken wrist and the tight but thick wrap job the nurse had done on it. “I’m going to need help getting my sleeve over this thing. I did not take that into account.”

  Becca snorted. She stepped around the kitchen island and reached for Kimberly’s arm. Between the two of them, it took a few minutes to wiggle off Kimberly’s chef’s jacket. Becca checked the swelling briefly then told Kimberly goodnight and disappeared to her room. Kimberly turned off the lights as she walked to her own room, ready for a new day with new problems.

  Chapter Three

  The knocking was incessant. Becca tossed in her bed and threw the blanket over her head, trying to fall back into sleep, but the knocking kept up—pounding and pounding and pounding. Growling, she flipped the blanket off herself in a fit of rage. Pressing her feet to the cold floor, she wiped at her eyes and muttered a curse under her breath as the banging on the door got louder and the doorbell chimed in as well.

  “Jesus Christ,” Becca groaned and got to her feet, heading toward the front door. No one else was up in the house. The sun was up, shining brightly through the windows, almost blinding her. As she got closer to the door, Becca heard a voice shouting through it.

  “Kimberly, open up! Come to the fucking door. Seriously, Kimmie. Open the damn door.”

  Becca glanced around to make sure Kimberly wasn’t hiding in the kitchen or on the couch. She hesitantly stepped toward the door and peeked out of the small glass window before unlocking it and opening it.

  “Who the hell are you?” a man with wide eyes shouted before trying to get around her.

  Becca planted her feet firmly, refusing to open the door any farther.

  “Who the hell are you?” she countered. “Don’t you think it’s a bit obnoxious to pound on a poor woman’s door until someone comes to answer it? Aren’t there better methods of getting someone’s attention rather than being a beast in a suit?”

  She eyed him up and down, deciding right then and there that she didn’t like him. He was dressed impeccably, but his demeanor was all man, all power, all superior entitlement.

  “I own this house.”

  “Bullshit.” Kimberly’s voice echoed down the hall as feet pattered heavily on the floor.

  “Daddy!” Michael ran right by Becca and wrapped his arms around the man’s legs, burying his face in his pants. “Why are you here?”

  “Yes, why are you here, Bradley?” Kimberly snapped.

  Becca decided to step to the side, thinking Kimberly had this handled better than she could, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to leave all together.

  “Who is she?” He jerked his head in Becca’s direction and spat the question.

  “Our new nanny.”

  Bradley wrinkled his nose at her as he picked up Michael and stepped into the house. Becca shut the door behind him, attempting to ignore the disgust in his voice and the fact that she suddenly felt like she’d been torn down two or three notches on the equality scale.

  Kimberly repeated her initial question. “Why are you here?”

  “I went to the hospital this morning and someone told me my wife had been in last night for a broken wrist.” Again, he glared at Becca.

  “Jesus, isn’t patient privacy anything these days?”

  “Not when it’s your wife.”

  “I am not your wife.”

  Becca’s back went ramrod straight, and she reached for Michael, ready to take him out of the room. Kimberly must have caught the move because she put a hand up to hold Becca off.

  “I am not your wife,” she repeated and smiled down at Michael.

  “I am still on file as your emergency contact.”

  “Well, I’ll be changing that ASAP,” she muttered. “I fell at work. Broke my wrist.” Holding up her tightly wrapped hand with noticeably swollen fingers, Kimberly smirked. “Becca here was so kind as to take me in to be seen. So, you can thank her then apologize for being such an ass.”

  Bradley’s demeanor instantly changed. He ducked his head slightly and almost shuffled his foot like a scolded toddler. “I am sorry for making assumptions—”

  “And for being an ass…” Kimberly added.

  “And for being an ass,” Bradley repeated. “And thank you for taking such good care of Kimmie.”

  Kimberly rolled her eyes but didn’t add anything else. Instead, she turned around, plopped down on the stool at the kitchen island like she had the night before and relaxed. After a pause, she shot a glare at Bradley. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

  He sighed, joining her in the kitchen with Michael still in tow. “I’ll go back in a minute. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” Kimberly said, exasperated.

  Becca wasn’t ready to fully leave Kimberly on her own yet, so she headed to start the coffee that both of them would no doubt need. She also wasn’t sure Michael was going to be up for hearing their conversation. Filling the pot with water, Becca set up the coffee maker while also keeping one ear attuned to the rest of the suddenly full kitchen.

  “Who did you get a referral to?” Bradley had picked Michael up and cradled him against his side. Michael melted into him.

  Kimberly waved her good hand and shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “What?”

  “It was late. I just woke up. Let me catch my bearings.”

  “You need to see Jim.”

  Kimberly roll
ed her eyes. Becca leaned against the counter, both hands gripping the edge as she watched the dysfunction unfold in front of her. Michael hopped down from Bradley’s arms and headed for the pantry. He came over with the box of cereal. Without thinking, Becca reached for the bowl and helped get him set up with his breakfast. The coffee percolating scented the kitchen with its deep fragrance.

  “I will see whomever I want to see,” Kimberly threw back. “It may be Jim. It may be someone else.”

  “Do you want me to take Michael for the rest of the week, so you can rest?”

  “No. I’m going back to work tomorrow.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  Kimberly shot Bradley a glare that Becca was happy to not be on the receiving end of. Shivers ran down her spine as she watched anger build behind Kimberly’s eyes before she tamed it to a slow roil. Her icy tone echoed throughout the house. “I will be going to work tomorrow.”

  “Kimmie, you could hurt yourself even more.”

  “That is my lot to lose. I am going to work tomorrow. I may not be cooking tomorrow, but I am going to work. There is certainly enough stuff to go around that I can and will find something useful to do.”

  Bradley put his hands up in the air in surrender. “Please take it easy, though.”

  “Fine.” Kimberly put her head on her good arm on top of the kitchen island and closed her eyes.

  Becca sensed her defeat and exhaustion. There was no masking it. Bradley stepped into the kitchen proper and pulled out a mug, filling it with coffee after reaching around Becca and getting into her space. Once again, Becca refused to move, forcing him to awkwardly angle his body to circle hers. She wasn’t about to back down. When he stepped away, Kimberly watched them curiously.

  Bradley headed for the door, but Michael caught on and raced over. He grabbed Bradley’s leg and screamed, obviously not wanting him to leave. Both Kimberly and Becca stayed still while Bradley peeled Michael off him. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, bud. You’ll have all weekend with me. We can go to the movies and to the park.”