Leaving Annalise (Katie & Annalise Book 2) (10 page)

Strapped into a complicated-looking car-seat/stroller thingy, and yelling that he wanted “down, down, down” (at least that’s what I think he was saying) was a large baby. Or a small toddler. I didn’t know which. A young boy of some sort, anyway, presumably named Taylor.

I don’t know why it surprised me. Nick had told me he had to keep Taylor, but, still, I gaped. Here I was, and here he was. I waited for my maternal instinct to kick in and tell me what to do. Nothing happened.

Taylor flailed his legs and tore at his shirt. The Velcro straps on his sneakers had come undone somehow. He blinked big brown eyes under a tousled mop of hair. There were still crease marks on his cheek, probably from sleeping on the plane.

Nick said, “Taylor, this is Ms. Katie. Can you say hi and blow Ms. Katie a kiss?”

Taylor whipped his face away. This shifted the burden of communication to me. Was it normal to feel nervous about talking to a toddler?

“Hi, Taylor. Welcome to St. Marcos! I’m so glad to meet you.”

“DOWN!” he yelled at me.

Nick laughed. “In a minute, buddy.” To me, Nick said, “We’ve got a lot of bags. If I set him free, we’re going to have a hard time handling everything.”

“How old is he?” I asked.

“Sixteen months. Why?”

I guessed that meant he could walk. “Because I think I can watch him while you get the bags.”

I immediately regretted it. Who was I kidding? But I put my game face on.

“If you’re sure, that would be great,” Nick said. “He’s been cooped up all day.” He unharnessed Taylor and set him in front of me. Before I could reach down to grab hold of him, Taylor was wobbling full tilt through the crowded baggage claim area. It was shocking how fast he could motor.

“Slow down, Taylor,” I called as I chased after him in my stylish yet suddenly impractical strappy sandals.

Taylor toddled on, giggling.

I ran, apologizing. “Excuse me, pardon me.” I pushed my untethered waves of hair back and wished for a ponytail holder. “Sorry, oops.” Tourists surged back from us like a school of parrotfish. I caught Taylor by one plump arm just as he was about to climb onto the baggage carousel. I scooped him up and he turned his laughing eyes onto me. He smiled beatifically with red bow lips that would have cost a fortune in Hollywood. I wouldn’t say my heart melted, but it softened a lot.

“Hey there, speedy. Want to come to my house and meet my doggies?”

His eyes lit up at the word “doggies.” “Ruff ruff.”

“That’s right. Doggies. Ruff ruff. But we have to get your bags and go ride in my truck to get there.”

“Vroom, vroom.”

“You are such a smart boy. Yes, let’s go to the truck with the bags and go see doggies.”

I put his feet on the ground, but this time held tightly onto his hand as he continued to chant “ruff ruff” and “vroom vroom.” We made our way slowly back to Nick, whose shoulder muscles rippled under his shirt as he hefted a bag from the carousel. My stomach fluttered in response.

Down, girl.

I buckled Taylor back into the stroller with a promise of vroom vrooms and ruff ruffs.

“Cute kid,” a deep voice said behind me.

I whipped around and saw a dark blue uniform. I looked above it into a broad and familiar face. Jacoby. Being friendly. I was too startled to reply.

Nick walked up, pulling two rolling suitcases with soft-sided bags perched on top of them.

Jacoby said, “Who your friends?”

“Oh! I’m sorry. Jacoby, this is Nick, and Nick’s nephew, Taylor. Nick, this is Jacoby, Officer Darren Jacoby.”

“Nice to meet you, Officer Jacoby,” Nick said, extending his hand. Jacoby swallowed it whole with his. They shook.

“Nice to meet you. You know, she not half bad,” Jacoby said, gesturing at me with his chin. “A good afternoon to you all,” he added, then headed toward the ticketing area.

I gaped after him. Jacoby had complimented me. I felt a warmth in the center of my chest.

We started walking to the truck and Nick asked, “So why are you carrying bags? And how did you get here to pick us up so quickly?”

“I was bringing Mohammed to the mountains,” I said. “I didn’t know the big mountain and the little mountain were en route.”

“But what about Annalise?”

“Just a house,” I said, and we locked eyes and smiled, until I stumbled over a curb and nearly went down.

“Nice, Lucille Ball.”

I curtsied.

Between mine and theirs, there were a lot of bags to load into the back of my truck, but Nick wedged them all in, then put the car seat in the center of the bench seat. “Up you go,” he said, lifting Taylor in. Nick and I settled on either side of him.

And baby makes three, I thought. I sucked in a deep breath.

Nick reached over the car seat and took my hand. “Hey, beautiful, how are you over there?”

A lump formed in my throat. “Happy,” I said. “Very, very happy.” It was not a word people had used to describe me for most of my life, but I realized it was true. I was happy.

“Happy is good. I’m happy, too.”

I turned the truck’s big red nose up the bumpy road to Annalise. “How long can you stay?”

“Same as we’d planned.”

“Are you serious?”

We had planned for Nick to commute virtually and leave his return as open-ended pending never. I felt like bouncing up and down in my seat.

“If you’re OK with having us both here.”

I tore my eyes off the road for a moment to look at him. “Anything to have you here. Anything.” He squeezed my hand. “What does Teresa think about it?”

“Whoa, there,” Nick said as I veered toward the center of the road.

Woopsie. I steered us back to the left.

Nick continued. “She thinks it’s great I have Taylor out of the reach of his sperm donor.”

“Will Derek try to make you bring him back?”

Nick shook his head. “He won’t even realize he’s gone. He just wanted to control her.”

We neared the final turn into the gate, which I’d had installed on a rush job the day after my first night alone at Annalise. “Here we are.”

“I can’t wait to see your progress,” Nick said as I sped up the lane.

I didn’t answer. We both saw Bart’s car at the same time.

Nick’s face darkened. “What the hell is Bart doing here?”

“I have no idea.” I parked in the driveway. “I’m sorry, Nick. Give me a second and let me get rid of him.”

I walked over to Bart’s Pathfinder, but he wasn’t in it. I turned back toward Nick, shook my head and raised my hands outward, shrugging. I pointed at myself and then the house, then went to the side door. It was unlocked, but I’d double-checked the locks before I left. I opened the door.

“Hello?” I called into the kitchen. “Is someone here?”

No answer.

My stomach churned. “Bart, I know you’re in here. Please answer me.”

Silence. I walked through the kitchen. I could feel static emanating from the floors and walls around me. So my moody jumbie had returned, and she didn’t like whatever was up. I went into the great room and threw the balcony doors open.

“Bart?” I leaned over the rail and saw Bart below on the backyard patio. He had his feet up on the table next to red roses tied with white ribbon. His profile was to me and he didn’t turn my way at first, just sucked hard on a hand-rolled joint. Even from twenty feet above him, I could see that his eyes were blood red and his hair was, frankly, disgusting. Greasy. Dull. Kurt Cobain in his heyday, and I’m not a Nirvana fan.

“Hey,” he said, and turned toward me.

I heard the side door open behind me, then Nick’s voice, Taylor’s happy squeals, and the panting of Oso. Half of me wanted to shout for them to wait outside. The other half wanted to yell for Nick to hurry up. I did neither.

The static from the house intensified. Footfalls sounded behind me.

“You need to leave, right now,” I said to Bart.

Nick stopped beside me. He called down to Bart in frighteningly calm voice. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you get the hell out of here and never come back.”

I felt a tiny thrill. Something about the bad-boy protector in Nick turned on the bad girl in me. Or at least the girl who wanted to help him find the fastest way out of his clothes.

“Who the hell are you?” Bart asked.

“I think you can figure that out.”

Bart’s face registered the dawning of realization, which only made him look more stoned. “Hey, I thought you weren’t coming.”

Nick shot me a look.

“I haven’t talked to him in weeks,” I said. “But it’s a small island. Word gets around.”

Bart sneered. “Tell him any lie you want, Katie.”

He stood up, threw the roses into the pool, and strode toward the driveway. A few moments later I heard his engine start, then tires spinning against the rocks as he drove away.

I turned to Nick, ready to apologize again, but he didn’t look upset.

“You forgot to tell me your crazy ex-boyfriend is a stoner,” he said, and swiped my nose with his thumb.

I shook my head and sighed. “It’s a new development.”

“Two words: restraining order.”

“You may be right.”

And that was the end of it, which totally caught me by surprise. My previous really serious relationship before Nick had been the year after I’d made partner at Hailey & Hart. My boyfriend’s ex couldn’t get over him, and I couldn’t get over her. Eventually, I drove him away, not back to her but on to someone new. Was Nick really that much more centered and rational than me?

I shuddered. The last time I’d gotten all wonky, he’d stayed away for nearly a year. Maybe wonky was bad and unwonky good.

Restraint. I could learn to exercise a little restraint.

We turned around and went back into the great room, where Taylor was running around the legs of the scaffolding.

“This house is named Annalise,” I told him.

“Reese,” he said, and tumbled to the floor. His head hit the tile with a loud thwack, followed by two beats of silence, then an ear-shattering wail. I felt a keening rise up around me.

“Do you hear that?” I asked Nick.

“Hard to miss,” Nick replied. “The boy has some lungs.”

“Not Taylor. The other sound.”

“Nope. What is it?”

I smiled at him. “Annalise,” I said. “She’s wailing along with Taylor.”

Nick picked up Taylor and was rocking him back and forth as the boy screamed. “Maybe I just can’t hear her over this.”

Maybe. But I didn’t think so. Most people couldn’t. Did I care that he couldn’t? I let the thought brew for a moment. My own answer surprised me. No, I didn’t mind. I kind of liked having Annalise to myself.

When Taylor’s cries subsided, Nick said, “I need to feed him some dinner.”

“I’m not sure what I have for a little boy.”

“No problem. I packed enough for tonight. We’ll have to shop tomorrow.”

Nick brought the car seat stroller thingy into the kitchen and buckled Taylor in. He pulled out a tray attachment.

“My God, does it play ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,’ too?” I asked.

Nick laughed and spread an assortment of Cheerios, green beans, and bits of string cheese in front of Taylor. I thought the cheese might be a little stale from the trip, but I exercised my newfound restraint and didn’t say so. Taylor gobbled it down with Oso stationed close by. Taylor threw a Cheerio on the floor. Oso snapped it up. Taylor laughed and kicked. Another Cheerio hit the floor. Oso wagged his tail and ate it, too. Taylor squealed. A game.

“Uh oh,” Nick said. He put his hand over the pile of food. “No, Taylor. This is your food. Oso has his own food.”

Taylor stuck out a fat lower lip. Nick held out a Cheerio, but Taylor jerked his head away.

“This will go bad in a hurry,” Nick said to me. “Oh well, he’s not going to starve to death.” He unstrapped the boy and set him down again.

Oso walked up and licked Taylor across the whole face. Taylor lost his frown and lunged for the dog, and I panicked and raced toward them, not sure how Oso would react. But Oso didn’t flinch. He wagged his tail as Taylor cruised along his body, using fists full of fur for balance. He’d secured a best friend with two bites of Cheerios and a yummy face. I backed away.

“Can we let him play outside for a little while?” Nick asked. “He’ll wind down in an hour or so. Fresh air and exercise will help speed the process.” He winked at me and held out his hand.

I crazy love it when he winks. He could ask me to stand on my head and count to ten thousand and the answer will always be the same if he winks.

“Yes. Sounds like a great plan.”

We followed Taylor outside to meet the rest of the dogs. After a few sniffs, all of them but Oso wandered off. Nick and I sat side by side on the front steps and watched Taylor lead Oso on a chaotic exploration of the yard. Kitty, the big gray outdoor cat I’d acquired from the animal shelter that week, lifted her tail and ran for the bush.

“Is he always this busy?” I asked as I nestled my head into Nick’s shoulder.

He slipped his arm around me. “This is nothing.”

Oh, my.

The sun was setting, and a breeze picked up from the east. Nick raised his arm and ran his fingers through my hair. He lifted it up and slipped his face under it, then softly kissed his way up the back of my neck. He hit my just-the-right-spot spot, and my body’s constant thrum since his arrival ratcheted up even further.

“Is Taylor looking sleepy to you yet?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Wishful thinking. We can probably give him a bath in about half an hour. After that, I read him a book and sing him to sleep. Estimated crib touchdown in one hour.”

He kissed my neck again.

“Wow, that’s an awfully long time.” I’d always heard that couples had a hard time fitting in sex once they had kids, but I’d thought they just needed to try harder. Taylor was showing me the error of my ways in a hurry.

Nick’s phone rang. He looked at the number. “My parents,” he said. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not. Go ahead.”

He answered the phone and walked out to where Taylor was rolling in the grass, which, unbeknownst to him, was the premier spot for cell reception. I followed and sat down beside Taylor. He rolled into me with a giggle, then rolled away again.

“Slow down, Mom,” Nick said. “I can barely hear you. Can you repeat that?” His jaw clenched. “You and Dad need to file a police report. Don’t wait. I’m serious.”

“I love you guys, too.” He hung up and stared out over the tops of the mango trees in the valley before us.

“Nick? What’s up?”

He sat down in the grass beside me and his words came out low and fast through chalky lips. “Derek showed up looking for Teresa and Taylor at my parents’ place. They told him they didn’t know where they were. He said he hoped they were smarter when he came back the next time.”

I matched his half-whisper. “Your poor parents.”

Nick cupped his hand around the back of my neck. “I’m so glad Taylor is here.”

“I’m glad you guys are here, too.” And I was. Even if Taylor had taken me by surprise. “Are you OK?”

“I’m great. I’m with you, Taylor is safe, and my parents are OK. Derek won’t hurt them. It will all be fine.”

I nodded. I hoped so.

Nick stood up. “Taylor, let’s go find your bedroom.”

I hadn’t even thought about a bedroom. We headed through the front door and I led them to the office. “How about here? It’s only two doors down from us.”

“Looks good.”

We moved Taylor’s things in. “Watch this, Taylor,” Nick said, and he quickly assembled a portable playpen in the center of the floor, then clapped his hands and said, “Yay, Uncle Nick!” Taylor joined in.

I did, too, but it was an uncertain clapping on my part. The pen was pink. I leaned into Nick and whispered, “Isn’t Little Mermaid a girl thing?”

He put a finger over his lips, then moved close to my ear. “I left in a hurry. We stopped at Walmart to pick one up. They were out of Buzz Lightyear, and Taylor went nuts for Ariel. I didn’t have time to talk him out of it.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to hold in the laugh.

Nick mock-glared at me and said, “Katie, where can we have our B-A-T-H?”

My cheeks filled with heat instantaneously.

Before I could think of an answer, he laughed. “Let me restate that. His, not ours.”

“Oh!” I put the backs of my hands on my cheeks. “The only one I trust to be clean is mine. Follow me, boys.”

So Nick gave Taylor a bubble bath in my claw-foot tub. He had to stand up and lean in over its tall sides, and it looked painful to me. I’d clean one of the smaller bathtubs between the Jack and Jill bedrooms upstairs in the morning, but Taylor seemed to love my tub. He kept up a constant stream of chatter as he played with his toys, although I couldn’t understand a word of it.

Nick looked over his shoulder at me and spoke over Taylor’s voice. “My life sure has changed since Taylor moved in. It’s nonstop with this little munchkin.” He lifted the boy out of the water and wrapped him in a rainbow-striped beach towel, then carried him in to my bed and started dressing him, stopping to blow loud raspberry kisses on his belly. More squealing.

When he was done, he picked up Taylor and a picture book,
Go, Dog. Go,
and asked, “Do you have a chair that rocks?”

I didn’t have a true rocking chair, but I did have some outdoor chairs that rocked a little. “Follow me,” I said, and led him out to the great room’s balcony.

Nick and Taylor took a seat and Taylor squirmed until he found just the right spot in Nick’s lap. I sat beside them and Nick gave his chair a little test rock.

“Perfect,” he said. “And the view is great, too.”

“I love it here, especially at sunset,” I said.

“I was talking about you,” he said, and smiled at me.

My stomach did a flip-flop, and I smiled back.

I watched the fruit bats, known locally as island sparrows, come out of the eaves and sip from the pool while Nick read to Taylor. When he closed the book, Taylor turned around and put his head on Nick’s shoulder. Nick started rocking. I matched their rhythm.

“Oh, say can you see, by the dawn’s early light, what so proudly we hailed . . .” Nick sang, off-key.

I covered a smile with the back of my hand. Taylor fell asleep before the rockets’ red glare. I followed them in to the makeshift nursery and watched as Nick skillfully transferred Taylor to the playpen and covered him with a crocheted blanket. I held my breath, but Taylor only snuffled as his body settled on the mattress. Nick closed the door with barely a click.

“He goes to sleep really easily,” he said.

“You’re very good with him.”

“Thanks.”

We stared at each other. It was our first moment alone since he’d gotten there, and the quiet was abrupt.

I put a hand on a hip and tried for a Mae West voice. “Would you like to see the room where you’ll be staying, big boy?”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

As I walked into the bedroom, Nick scooted in close and put his arms around me from behind. I leaned into him and we swayed. “I love you,” he whispered in my ear. “I couldn’t stay away from you any longer.”

My heart swelled. I turned into him and said, “I feel exactly the same way.” His lips closed over mine, warm and soft.

“Wait,” I said. I switched off the bedroom light.

“Better?” he asked, laughing.

“Much.”

“I can still see you, you know.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

And then his lips found mine again, and I forgot about the light and the little boy down the hall, and was conscious only of Nick, of me, of us, of this.

Afterwards, we lay together in the dark. I held his arm in front of me and kissed all the parts I could reach.

Nick spoke, his voice low. “Are you sure this isn’t too much for you, me moving in with my nephew?”

I stopped kissing him and turned so I could see his face. He looked serious, worried.

I reached one hand into his hair. “It will be fine.” I ran the hand down his neck and over his shoulders.

Nick put his hand around my wrist. “You cannot imagine how much I’ve missed you.” His voice was suddenly rough. “I don’t want to be apart from you, ever.”

“Show me,” I said.

And he did.