TWELVE

Mia

It’s Sunday night when my phone rings.

I’ve stuck close to home, spending most of my day cleaning, doing my laundry in the tub, trying not to think about the fully outfitted laundry room I noticed on the other side of the lake. When that was done, I rearranged my bedroom out of boredom, since I was too restless to do any reading. I thought about going out on the lake a few times, but decided against it.

This weekend has been emotionally exhausting. First the sexual tension between Jared and me, building right across the inlet, feeling so tangible, the burn of his eyes felt like fingers stroking my skin. Knowing he had the capacity to arouse me with a few hundred yards, and a body of water separating us, left me questioning my own sanity. I barely had a chance to recover from that encounter when I let him inside my sanctuary, where his words were both a challenge and a caution, and he left me feeling out of sorts. When I finally couldn’t resist a glance across the water, I watched as another woman proprietarily put her hands on him, and I couldn’t watch anymore.

I don’t blame him, oddly enough. I’ve known exactly the kind of man he is from the first time I clapped eyes on him. No, I’m more disgusted with myself. I’d been jealous; an emotion I’d opened myself up to. I let myself spin fantasies around him. Allowed myself to be lured, well outside of my comfort zone, with sexual innuendo and visual stimulation. I needed the distance to sort myself out.

Sleep last night had been no better than the night before, with my mind spinning in every direction and the temperature in my bedroom stifling. I’d ended up on the couch on the screen porch, in an attempt to catch whatever small breeze on my clammy skin. Surprisingly, there hadn’t been any movement from the other side of the bay. None that I’ve seen.

Which is why it shocks me to see Jared’s number on my screen. We’d exchanged numbers at some point, in case of an emergency and in a feeble attempt to keep some distance, I’d entered it as neighbour in my contacts. Like that would make him less real. I consider letting it go to voicemail, but what if something is wrong with the baby?

“Hello,” I finally answer, a little out of breath.

“Mia,” Jared starts, a little abruptly. “Jordy’s been running a fever since last night. She doesn’t want to take anything because she’s nursing, but she’s cold and can’t stop shivering. It’s still fucking thirty degrees out, and she’s curled up under the covers, soaking with sweat.”

I’m already sliding my feet in some flip-flops and slap my thigh to call Griffin, who’s been snoozing in his bed in front of the fireplace. Still he gets to the door before I do.

“On my way. How’s the baby?”

“He’s a bit fussy, but not warm. I’ll turn the outside lights on, and meet you on the path.”

I tuck my phone in my back pocket, grab my flashlight, and head outside. Dusk has set in and the remaining mosquitos, hiding under the cool canopy of the trees, come out in full force, feasting on every sliver of exposed skin. Forgot to spray the damn repellent, I’ll be a pincushion by the time I get there.

I’m slapping at the buzzing cloud when I see Jared approaching from the other side, doing much the same.

“Fuck, they’re thick tonight,” he swears as we close the distance.

“Guess you didn’t spray either?” I state the obvious as we make our way toward his house.

“Didn’t think,” he mumbles, before turning to me. “She says it hurts when she nurses. Wants me to go get some formula. I was going to do that while you’re here. If you don’t mind.”

“Don’t do that yet. Let me have a quick look first.”

He slides open the door and lets Griff and me pass before following in, quickly shutting it before the bugs get in. I head directly to Jordy’s bedroom, quickly peeking inside the nursery to find Ole awake but quiet, so I leave him in his crib for now.

“Hey, honey,” I greet her, when I walk in to find just her hair sticking out from under her duvet. The temperature in the room is nice and cool, but not cold.

“Hey,” she croaks weakly.

“Let me have a look at you,” I suggest, peeling the covers down. Poor girl is drenched, but her teeth are chattering. “Let’s take this off, okay?” I pluck at her wet T-shirt and start pulling it off when I hear Ole start fussing.

“I’ve got him,” Jared’s voice comes from the doorway and seconds later can be heard over the monitor on Jordy’s nightstand.

I don’t need to look far; her right breast is red and swollen. Gentle palpitation with my fingers finds a hard disk under the surface of her skin, close to her breastbone.

“You have a breast infection, honey,” I tell her, when she winces at my touch.

“Should we take her to the clinic?” Jared asks, walking in with Ole on his arm.

“There are some things we can try before we need to do that. First order of business is to let that little bruiser drink as much as he can manage.” I smile into Ole’s curious eyes as I reach out and take the baby from Jared’s hands. “If you can grab two bowls, one with ice cold and one with hot water. Oh, and two washcloths, please,” I instruct Jared.

“It hurts when he latches on,” Jordy complains.

“I know, but what you have is likely a backed up milk duct. The more he drinks, the looser it gets. We’ll do some hot-cold compresses; hot before, to soften things up, and cold after nursing, to soothe.” I unwrap Ole while I’m talking, until he’s only in his diaper. “Roll on your side, Jordy.” I place the baby next to her on the bed, cozied up against her skin, his little mouth already searching for the nipple. When Jared walks in, I take one of the washcloths from him and wet it in the hot water, squeezing out the excess, and draping it over her breast, leaving the nipple free. “What you need to remember is that the strongest pull of his mouth is from his bottom jaw, so you want to position him with his chin in the direction of any hard spots.” I grab the edge of the duvet and tuck it under the baby’s legs and butt, so his head is angled down a bit and help him latch on.

“Should she be doing this if it hurts that much?” Jared says over my shoulder on hearing his sister’s sharp hiss and seeing the tears rolling down her face.

“Yes,” I answer resolutely when I see Ole suck deep and Jordy visibly relaxes. “Come with me,” I order Jared, pulling him out of the room behind me, straight to the kitchen. “Do you have apple cider vinegar?”

“Pantry,” he says, immediately moving in that direction.

“Good. And I’ll need a bit of honey to if you have it. If not, syrup will do for now.”

When he’s set everything on the counter, he looks up at me expectantly.

“The vinegar has anti-inflammatory and antibacterial properties, so we’re gonna use that to battle her fever from the inside. One tablespoon of that and half of one of honey to a cup of water. She needs to drink that three times a day and keep it up for a full two weeks. It’s just like antibiotics, it won’t have it’s full effect unless you finish the course,” I explain, as I mix the first batch under his watchful and dubious eye. “I also need you to run over to my place, take my flashlight, and grab me a green cabbage from the garden. They’re still small, but will do the trick.”

“You sure this is all gonna help her? Sounds more like the makings of coleslaw or something.”

“Cold cabbage leaves will bring down the swelling,” I tell him with a smile. I can see the disbelief all over his face, but I’m not worried, he’ll be a believer soon enough.

“Anything else,” he says with a hefty dose of sarcasm. “Cucumber? Tomato? Root of hemlock?”

I throw my head back and laugh. It’s not like I’ve never encountered a cynic. Plenty of them. I’ve also never encountered one who didn’t ultimately become a believer after seeing the effects of some simple home remedies. His reference to a potion, albeit jokingly, is not unusual either. Midwives were at some point in time viewed as witches, until finally common sense prevailed. Just as I’m positive Jared will come around as well.

“You’ll see,” I tell him, handing him my flashlight.

Jared

“She’s asleep and Ole is tucked in with her.”

I turn my head over the back of the couch to see Mia slowly approaching. Without a word, I pat the seat beside me, watching her come around and bend to give Griffin, who’s curled up on the other side of the coffee table, a scratch. She finally sits down, kicks off her flip-flips and tucks her feet up on the couch, leaving quite a bit of distance between us.

I’d been staring blindly at reruns of Criminal Minds, yet listening to the soft murmurs coming from Jordy’s bedroom, my thoughts on Mia. It’s like watching two different people; the confident, self-assured, composed midwife, versus the skittish, insecure, withdrawn hermit. Yet both are all Mia, which makes her even more intriguing. Her kindness, empathy, passion, and intellect are clear in both sides of her. Intriguing, complex, beautiful, and fascinatingly irresistible.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask, in an attempt to break through the fast building tension, as I watch her hands wring in her lap.

“Just water is fine,” she says on a whisper.

“I can make some tea?” I offer, getting up from my seat.

“Water’s fine. I should be getting home soon anyway.”

“Why?” flies out of my mouth before I can check it. “I mean, what if she needs you later?” I lamely add as I fill a glass with cold water. “Besides, you haven’t slept much in the heat, by your own admission. You can crash in the spare bedroom, it’s nice and cool.” I hand her the glass before sitting down beside her again. I watch her throat work as she swallows a sip, before she sets the glass down on the table and turns to me, folding her hands in her lap.

“Maybe I will,” she says so softly, I have to watch her lips form the words.

“Come here.” I watch as her eyes flash and her body goes rigid, yet she doesn’t move. She also doesn’t resist, when I lean over and pull her closer, arranging her so her back is tucked against my side, her butt pressed against my hip, and my arm is loosely curved around her shoulder. Close but not restraining. “What do you want to watch?” I ask, pointing at the TV.

“Criminal Minds is fine,” she says, her body still tense against mine.

It isn’t until a new episode comes on that she finally relaxes into my hold. About five minutes after that, her head is on my chest and she is fast asleep. The moment I lift her up, to carry her to the spare bedroom, Griffin is on his feet, his ears up and alert as he follows me down the hallway. I’ve just loosely covered her with the sheets when he jumps on the bed and curls up against her back. I leave the door open a crack, and turn on the bathroom light, so she can find her way around in the middle of the night. Then I cross the hall to my bedroom, leaving that door open as well, strip off my clothes, crawl in bed, and close my eyes.

-

A creak of a floorboard wakes me up, sometime during the night. For a second I’m disoriented, until I remember Mia across the hall. I stretch out, tuck my arms behind my head, and listen to the sound of muffled voices coming from the other side of the house. Footsteps moving around, cupboards opening and closing, and the sound of the tap running in the kitchen—before it goes silent once again. A sense of craving, deep in my gut, keeps me restlessly alert

Finally, when I hear the slight shuffle of bare feet coming down my hallway, I roll out of bed. Mia jumps when I open my door all the way, whipping around with her hand pressed between her breasts.

“God, you scared me,” she whispers, closing her eyes.

By the time she opens them, I’ve closed the distance between us. I tug her close with my hand on her hip and my other arm wrapping around the small of her back. Her eyes widen, as do her lips as I lower my head and take her mouth.

Soft, warm, and deliciously wet, with a rich flavour the brief taste of her skin a few days ago only hinted at. Her body presses closer to mine involuntarily and I release her hip, only to slide that hand up her side and around to her neck, holding her head in place as my tongue explores deeper.

She feels good. So good that if I don’t release her now, I’ll lose all control. Reluctantly, I pull back from her inviting mouth, leaving her with a soft press of my lips against hers. Her eyes, luminescent in the dim light of the hallway, are confused, but she doesn’t say a word. She moves obediently as I lead her into her bedroom, peel back the covers to let her climb in bed, and tuck them back over her.

“Get some sleep,” I tell her, leaning in to press one last kiss to her mouth before heading back to my own bed.

This time, I close my door. Not so much to keep anyone out, but more to keep myself in. Because the moment I give in to the temptation on the other side of a hall, I will lose myself.