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Authors: Emma Nichols

BOOK: Terms of Service
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Chapter Ten

 

The girls had been taken to preschool, the dry cleaning had been picked up, the mail had been sorted, and Hannah couldn’t stop fidgeting.  She was restless as she watched the demolition take place.  She was unsettled as the men loaded the truck to take the items selected to the Habitat for Humanity store.  Now, with nothing to do for the next several hours, she was even more bothered.

Finally, Madge could stand it no longer.  “Why don’t you just go work in the studio?”  She watched Hannah pretend to mull the idea over.  “You know that’s what you’ve been thinking about for the last several hours anyway,” she said smugly.

Turning a lovely shade of salmon, Hannah shrugged.  “I can’t help it.  I like staying busy.  Would you mind terribly if I just went down to the studio for a couple of hours?”  She glanced at the clock.  It was only one thirty and she wouldn’t be able to pick up the girls until four so as not to upset their routine.  She could work for a few hours and still have plenty of time to clean up before leaving.

Slowly she made her way to the studio.  It weighed heavy on her heart she was doing this behind Gavin’s back.  She didn’t like lying, and though some would suggest this wasn’t technically a lie, it still felt that way to her.  She frowned.  On top of that, her work would never be comparable to India’s.  Though Hannah didn’t like the pieces she had seen scattered about the house, she could recognize the imagination and ability which produced them.  No, she was nothing like India.

Leaving the doors to the studio flung wide open, Hannah invited the sun and fresh air inside.  The room had smelled stale when it was first unlocked.  After her thorough cleaning, it smelled almost medicinal.  Smiling, she nodded.  She knew how to remedy that.  Rushing from the room, she bounded up the steps and headed straight to the enormous closet in her bedroom.  She grabbed the boxes from the shelves and remembering the last time she over did, sighed, opting to take them to the studio one at a time.

Several more trips and she felt ready to get down to business.  At one time, before the twins, she had been popular on the arts and crafts circuit.  Her candles were much admired for their scent, their hand painted containers, and their longevity.  Smiling to herself, she imagined what she could accomplish in this amazing room.  Snapping out of her reverie, she smirked.   Nothing would get accomplished if all she did was stand around dreaming about it.

Slowly she unwrapped the packing from some glass containers she had already prepared.  Examining them, she heaved a sigh of relief since the designs were still intact.  She could actually have candles ready to go in a few hours.

Before long, Hannah was humming to herself.  So engrossed was she in the process she didn’t see Madge peeking around the corner as she poured the hot fragrant wax.  Once Hannah was done, she cleared her throat.  “Sorry to disturb you, but it’s about that time,” Madge warned, pointing to the clock hung over the back counter.

Nodding, Hannah pulled off the apron and hung it on a nail she found in the wall.  She was more relaxed than she had been in ages.  She knew it wasn’t just the studio.  It was everything.  Her life finally felt settled, finally made sense.  Then an unfamiliar chime interrupted her thoughts.

“Oh,” she giggled.  “My first call.”  The screen showed it was Gavin calling from the office phone.  “Are you calling to place your dinner order?”  She laughed.

 

***

 

“Alas, no,” he said seriously.  For hours, he had procrastinated about contacting her.  “I have a meeting tonight after work.  I won’t be home until later.  Please don’t wait dinner for me.”  He was eager to hang up, eager to get this meeting over with.  If he was being truly honest, he was torn about going home as well.  Seeing Hannah had somehow become the best times of his day.  Finding her smiling face and easy demeanor every morning in the keeping room before facing the rest of his dreary day was an experience only rivaled by his evenings spent with her in the study.

Leaning back in his chair, he sighed as he realized how important it was she be there, waiting on him when he returned from the office.  Her face would brighten when he entered the room, and soon they would be swapping stories about their day.  He liked sneaking up the stairs and listening to her read to the girls.  He had come to count on her sitting across from his desk reading at night.  It was so comfortable.  In such a short period of time, Hannah had succeeded in turning his house into a home.  He gulped.  He actually liked having her and the girls around.  So much for his revenge, but maybe he had a chance at something even better.

“Well, what do you think?”  Hannah asked on the other end of the phone.  There was an edge to her voice, which meant she had asked a question and he had completely missed it while lost in thought.

“I’m sorry, Hannah,” he apologized sincerely.  “I was distracted.”

Sighing loudly, she repeated the questions, “What if I feed the girls and continue their routine and I just wait to eat with you?”  She behaved as if this were the most natural question in the world.

“You would wait to eat with me?”  His voice was incredulous.  With India, he was lucky to have a plate in the oven.  He’d hunt around and eventually find her every time in her studio.

“I offered, didn’t I?”  

“I was just going to hit a drive-thru on the way home, but if you’re willing to wait, I’ll grab us something different so it’s fresh and hot.”  His mind was already spinning with the possibilities.

“Nothing too extravagant,” she warned.  “I hate when you spend money on me.”

“Fine,” he scowled.  The Ruth’s Chris take-out dream fizzled.  Instead…Long Horn?  Now he had something to look forward to, as long as his meeting went well.

Half an hour after leaving the office, Gavin found himself sitting across from none other than Amy Pendergast.  She looked particularly uptight this evening in her navy blue dress suit.  This was a woman to be taken seriously.

“I was surprised to hear from you,” Ms. Pendergast began.  “The divorce is final.  I expected our dealings would be done.”  She folded her hands on the desk.

Choosing his words carefully, Gavin finally spoke.  “Well, it has come to my attention we have someone in common.”  He waited for her reaction.

An eyebrow rose sharply.  “Someone?”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Not something?”

“Oh, most definitely someone.”  He leaned forward and watched as she slowly leaned back in her chair.

“Don’t keep me in suspense,” she said.  “Do tell.”

Swallowing, he prepared to admit the reason for his visit. “Hannah and the girls are living with me.”  Then he waited.

Amy stood abruptly and leaned over the desk. “How is it that Hannah is living with you?”  Her face clouded in anger.  

This reaction was exactly what Gavin was trying to avoid.  “Please sit,” he said warily.  He could sense her hesitancy.  “I said ‘please,’” he reminded her.  Suddenly the word had taken residence in his vocabulary.  It was becoming so commonplace he had very nearly used it when speaking to an employee at the office.

Amy sat with a thud.  “How have I wronged you?”  

“Wronged me?”  Gavin’s face lit up.  She thought he was using Hannah to punish her.  It was almost laughable.  Then a small voice in his head piped in.  Nope, it’s not about her; Hannah was supposed to be punished for being a greedy self-serving bitch.  His face darkened just as quickly.  “You never wronged me, Ms. Pendergast.”  He shook his head.  “This isn’t about you.”  He struggled with the explanation he had contrived to spout out during their discourse.

He began slowly, with great concentration, “My mother was nagging me about finding a woman.  She wanted grandchildren and there was Hannah, already with children, needing a place to stay.”  He looked her in the eyes.  “Everyone wins.”  He shrugged.  It had become the truth, but he still felt lousy since it wasn’t his intent when he moved Hannah in.  Luckily, according to the law, it wasn’t intent; it was actions people were held accountable for.  He straightened some.  He’d never hurt Hannah.

“You’re not here just to tell me that,” she said as she leaned forward to assess him with angry eyes.

Gavin cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her stare.  “No.  I just want everything to continue as it has been.  As you know, I don’t do well with change.”

Amy eyed him suspiciously for a moment as she gave his explanation some thought.  She was a shrewd woman, and if anyone could see through him, it would be her.  Hannah was too trusting.  “So, you’re not going to hurt Hannah.”

He sighed.  “No, that clumsy woman does enough damage to herself; she certainly doesn’t need my help.”

Amy laughed at the truth of his statement.  “She does have a way of getting herself into trouble,” she mused.  “I’m surprised you feel comfortable leaving her unattended in your house.”

“Well, I leased her a new car and bought her a cell phone,” he began.  “Short of baby proofing the place, there’s not much more I can do.”  He smiled slightly.

Glancing at her watch, Amy stood and motioned she was walking him to the door.  “I have another appointment,” she explained sheepishly.  Then she looked at him and heaved a visible sigh of relief.  “At least I know where she is and know she’s being well taken care of.”  She shook Gavin’s hand and then paused.  “For a moment I was afraid you had taken my advice.”

“How’s that?”  Gavin was momentarily confused.

“Oh, it’s silly, but for a moment I thought you had somehow managed to figure out how to turn Hannah into your hobby.”  She shrugged and moved away.

“Yeah, silly,” he mumbled, feeling incredibly low.

***

 

The court date snuck up on her, partially because she had been doing everything in her power to forget about it, avoid the worry, but mostly because once she had scanned and emailed Amy all of the paperwork she requested, Hannah had focused on other aspects of her life.  She had spent countless hours in the studio, and it had definitely paid off.  For one thing, she had been able to take pictures and create a website to sell her crafts.  Her walk-in closet had become the storage for her completed projects, easily accessible for when she was working online and preparing shipments.

After some contemplation, she had decided to combine some of her mediums.  In addition to the hand painted glass container candles she had produced, she was now making a series of candles in coil pots.  Smiling, Hannah admired one of her latest creations.  For her, spending hours rolling the clay and shaping it into a coil pot was therapy.  She sighed blissfully.  Truth be told, living here was therapy.

The routine they had developed worked to provide her the security she craved.  She knew every morning Gavin would join her in the keeping room for a few minutes to chat before going off to the office.  Sometimes he rattled off what he needed of her during the day, other times he simply seemed to want to visit.  She’d grown accustomed to dropping the girls off, running the necessary errands, and then creating a dinner plan before working in the studio.  The kitchen was nearly complete, so she could look forward to resuming her cooking duties in the very near future.  That, too, brought a smile to her face.

Some of her favorite times, however, were the times she was able to work uninterrupted on her crafts.  Occasionally Madge would stop by to see what she was working on, but she never hovered for long.  So, with the radio on or some of her mix CDs playing, she was left to her own devices.  The result was astonishing even to her.  Already she had sold several of the new clay pot candles.

She relaxed and her guard was down.  So when her iPhone reminded her she had to be in court during what should have been her studio time, she was shaken to her core.  Sinking down on the bed, she struggled to pull herself together.  It was just a court hearing, nothing to worry about.  Not only would Amy be there to support her, she would be fighting for her.  Hannah tried valiantly to smile at the thought, but it was a weak one at best and couldn’t mask the fear in her eyes.

 

***

 

Downstairs, Gavin was pacing.  He was used to sharing this time each morning with Hannah.  He counted on it to get through the day.  Hearing the chattering in the dining room, he hoped he might find her there.  As he peeked in, however, he was disappointed to see the girls eating alone.

They seemed to be deep in a discussion and he didn’t want to interrupt.  He had more important issues on his mind, like finding their mother.  Yet part of their conversation caught his attention.

“Don’t worry, Zoe,” Rory said quietly.  “Mommy must just be late.  That’s all.”

Playing with her cereal, Zoe looked down sadly.  “I hope so.  I hope it’s not like before, in the apartment.”  She sighed.

Laying an arm around her shoulder, Rory tried to comfort her sister.  “No.  Mommy’s better.  You know it.”

She seemed to think a moment before answering.  Her face brightened and she said, “Yup.”  Then she began munching her Honey Nut Cheerios happily.

Gavin couldn’t help it.  He had to ask.  “Was your mom sick?”  He felt his stomach clench as he awaited the answer.  He would feel even lower if he had been giving her all these tasks to accomplish and she had been ill.

Shaking her head emphatically, Zoe was the first to answer.  “No, just sad,” she explained.  She received a poke from Rory for her answer and immediately looked down, ashamed she had said too much.

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