EIGHT

Mia

It’s been a busy week.

I smile when I catch myself thinking that. I don’t think I’ve had a busy anything in a decade. It feels good, being needed, feeling useful.

I’ve spend almost every day at my neighbours’, checking up on Jordy and Ole. The baby’s getting a bit better; no longer quite as yellow and he appears to be a strong little boy. Other than the first few days, when she was sore and her boobs were leaking like faucets, Jordy’s feeling a lot better too. She’s becoming more confident and the little one seems to be able to sense that.

As for me, it feels nice to have a friend right across the bay. Especially when I only see Steffie a few times a year. My fault, clearly, since there’s no way I could envision heading to the big city any time soon. A shiver runs down my spine at the thought. Any visits are dependent on her.

I jot down eggs on the grocery note I’m compiling. I haven’t been since my little meltdown in the store and am not particularly looking forward to heading out. But Griff’s food is almost gone, and I’m down to stale crackers and homegrown veggies, which frankly, isn’t cutting it. Jordy asks me almost daily to stay for a meal, but since I brought over that chicken and salad a week ago, I’ve avoided it. It’s tempting enough to come here every day and snuggle with Ole’s little warm body, while chatting with Jordy. It’s the kind of contact I’ve been missing, which is why I have to be cautious not to latch on to them.

I haven’t seen much of Jared the past few days, he leaves before I get there, but he’s been home at night. I’ve seen his car come back—not that I am looking. Yet another reason to keep some distance; I’m not good at hiding my fascination with him.

Anyway, I promised Rueben, who is away for a few weeks visiting his daughter in Colorado, that I’d try to keep up my weekly visits to town. When I checked with Jordy yesterday, to see if she needed anything from town, she practically begged me to get some proper pads. Apparently Jared’s brought home a dozen boxes of panty liners, telling her he bought in bulk because he had no wish to repeat the experience. She didn’t want to point out panty liners wouldn’t do the trick, so instead she’d been making do...with three or four stacked at a time. She mentioned Jared was going to take her and the baby into the clinic for an appointment this morning, but she wasn’t sure if she was going to feel up to making any more stops, so I told her not to worry; I’d pick up some pads on my run.

Having delayed long enough, it’s almost noon, I tuck my list in my purse, grab my keys, and my grocery bags, and determinedly ignore the bite of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. As an afterthought, I pick up the bucket with kitchen waste, destined for the compost bin beside the shed, and step outside.

“You stay, buddy, I’ll be back soon,” I reassure Griffin, who tries to follow me outside, and quickly close and lock the door. I glance across the water to the other side to notice Jared’s car already gone, and make my way to the shed. With the waste emptied into the bin, I close the lid and leave the bucket to rinse out and take inside when I get back. I’m about to toss my bags in the car, when the crunch of gravel has me turn around to find a familiar car driving down the hill.

“Hey,” Jared calls out through the rolled down passenger side window. “Need a ride into town?” I lean down to see if Jordy is in the car with him.

“Where’s your sister?” I ask, when I see the back seat is empty.

“Back home. She and Ole are taking a nap. She was tired after her appointment,” he explains. “Anyway, when I told her I’d run out to grab some supplies, she mentioned you were heading into town. Thought I’d see if you were still here. We can save on gas.” He’s leaning over the centre console, smiling easily.

The anxiety that had been building up in my gut, eases slightly at the prospect of not having to brave town alone, but another type of tension fast takes its place. Being in his proximity is creating its own brand of anxiety, which I’m not sure I’m able to ignore. He catches my hesitation and leans even further to shove open the passenger door. Not wanting to make an ass of myself, and secretly relieved for the company he’s offering, I tuck my bags under my arm, and get in.

“What did the doctor say?” I ask, as he turns the car around and starts driving toward the road.

“The baby’s lost a little weight since birth but he says that’s normal.”

“It is,” I interrupt. “He’ll put it back on, and then some, in the coming weeks.”

“Yeah, that’s what he said. Anyway, other than that, he seemed pleased. Assured Jordy the baby looked good and said she was healing well. Was curious about you, though,” he says, and I can feel him turning his eyes on me. “He admitted never having heard of you, when Jordy mentioned you’d been taking care of her. Said he was surprised, since he knows every midwife in the region.”

I detect a hint of accusation in his comments and try not to let it sting. Of course, he has every right to question the validity of my claim, given that I’ve been in and out of his house, taking care of his family. I take a deep breath.

“I got my degree at McMaster University and practiced in Toronto for seven years before moving here.” I’m leaving out huge chunks of information, spanning about thirteen years, but what I do give him is enough to check my credentials. To my surprise, he reaches out with his free hand, covering my folded ones in my lap and gives them a light pat.

“I wasn’t doubting you,” he says, his voice dipped low, and I can’t help glancing up at him. His eyes, peeking at me from under his ball cap, hold the middle between blue and gray, and show no suspicion at all. “And I don’t think the doc was either, given the way you had things firmly in hand during the delivery. It’s just curiosity,” he assures me, and I feel compelled to give him just a little more.

“I had to give it up years ago,” I admit, turning my head to glance out the window, or maybe I just don’t want to give myself away with my eyes. “I just never knew how much I missed it.”

My words are met with silence and when I finally take a peek at him, I notice he’s staring straight ahead, his mouth in a firm line.

“Yeah, I hear you,” he finally says. “I wish I didn’t know what that feels like.”

His words intrigue me. My first reaction is to ignore it for the platitude it might appear to be, but I can tell from the look on his face he’s dead serious. He may not know my story, but he clearly has one of his own—lost something he loved as well. I’m the one curious now, but the set of his jaw keeps me from asking. I’m not ready to share—not sure if I’ll ever be—so I can hardly ask him to open up.

The rest of the drive takes place in silence, but it’s not unpleasant. Each of us is lost in our own thoughts, and I don’t even feel the familiar pounding of my heart when he pulls into a vacant parking spot in front of the grocery store.

Jared

“I, uhh...have to grab something here,” she says, nudging her head in the direction of the feminine products aisle. Her voice is tight and the fact her knuckles are white as she hangs on to her cart, like it’s her anchor, doesn’t escape me. Still, I nod for her to go, pretending to be interested in the sale items on the end display, just so I can keep an eye on her.

When Jordy mentioned Mia was planning to head into town this morning, I was hit with guilt. All week, I’ve been using and abusing her kindness by leaving Jordy in her care, while taking care of some medical appointments in Toronto and a long awaited sit-down with my agent, Brian, in Barrie. Loose ends I’d planned to take care of the last few weeks before the baby was born, but the little bugger decided to come early. It took me less than forty-eight hours to realize that with a baby in the house, time is no longer yours. I grabbed the opportunity and told myself it had nothing to do with the fact I was trying to avoid my very attractive, and confusing neighbour.

I’m not a fool. I know there is something going on when someone is confident, taking charge, one minute, and is a scared little mouse the next. I’ve seen both sides of her, and while the one intrigues me, the unpredictability of the other scares me witless. Avoiding her seemed easier. I was wrong. I may have avoided seeing her in my space, but her smell lingered, instantly triggering thoughts of her.

Seeing how frazzled she was the first time I saw her coming back from town, and how panicked she was at the hospital, I’m guessing being out in public is not easy for her. Which is part of why I swung by to pick her up. The other part being that I’m an ass for disappearing on her, when in all reality, I’d like nothing more than to find out more about her.

She took me by surprise when she spoke of her profound sense of loss since giving up her calling. The words rang true for me in a way that was uncanny. I recognize the feeling because I’ve lived it every day this past year. But this past week, tying up those loose ends, I think the finality of it ultimately hit me. Yeah, I feel that loss.

My eyes wander back to where Mia is scouring the shelves, with her eyes darting in the direction of anyone passing her in the aisle. I start moving toward her, tampons be damned, when she squeezes her eyes shut, drops her head down, and sways on her feet. Shit. She’s barely hanging on. The shallow breathing, buckling knees, and death hold on her cart tell me I’m not wrong. I quickly step up behind her, bracing her between my body and the cart. To anyone looking, we hopefully look like nothing more than a loving couple.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, with my lips against the shell of her ear. My arm wraps around her waist and bears her weight as I tuck her tight against my front. “Breathe, baby,” I encourage her, when she starts gasping for air and fighting my hold. “You’re okay. You can do this, Mia. Breathe with me.”

I quickly glance around, hoping no one saw her brief struggle and got the wrong idea, but the aisle is blissfully empty. Slowly I feel the tension sliding from her body as she struggles to match her breath to mine.

“I’m sorry,” I barely hear her say.

“Nothing to be sorry about. Now, what was it you needed here?” I try to set a normal tone when I slowly release her, making sure her legs are once again steady. She turns her head with an incredulous look on her face.

“I have to go.”

“Nope,” I say firmly. “We’re not done getting our groceries.”

“But...what if I...” Her eyes are almost panicked when she looks at me, so I lean in once again and bracket her in against her cart. This time front to front.

“What we’re going to do, is finish picking up our groceries, grab a nice couple of steaks from the butcher, and casually browse the bakery on the way to the register. And if, by chance, you feel another one of those coming on, we’re gonna breathe right through until it passes,” I enforce on her, almost nose to nose. “Now, like I said, what is it you need in this aisle?” I watch with interest as the fear in her eyes is replaced with the fire of indignant anger. Oh yeah, the lady is pissed.

“Kotex maxi pads,” she says, an evil little smirk on her face when she catches my flinch. “A small pack of heavy flow and a large package of medium flow.

They’re for your sister,” she points out with some venom. “And you can help me find the nipple shields. Her breasts are leaking through her bra.” I feel like she just nailed me in the gonads with an oversized pair of steel-toed boots.

I swear she’s snickering as she walks away, pushing her cart. At the end of the aisle she looks over her shoulder.

“I’ll be casually browsing the bakery if you need me.”

With a toss of her wild curls, she disappears from sight, leaving me to gape after her.

Nothing left to do but peruse the gazillion choices of feminine products. It takes me way too goddamn long to find what I need, so I ask a passing grocery clerk, who smiles at me sympathetically as she points me in the right direction.

The entire exercise is uncomfortable as hell, and when I find Mia at the counter in the bakery, I quickly dump that shit in her cart. I glare at her, but it doesn’t stop the corner of my mouth twitching up in a smile, when I’m met with the mischievous sparkle in those green eyes.

-

By the time I pull into her driveway after our otherwise uneventful grocery run, the trunk and back seat filled with bags, we’re chatting easily. I was stopped by a fan while we were loading up the car and had to smile at the confusion on Mia’s face, when she was asked to take a picture of us. Apparently she didn’t have a clue who I was, something I found oddly refreshing. Apparently she’s not a big hockey fan, by her own admission.

I just finished giving her a very brief synopsis of my career when I hear her gasp beside me.

“Sonofabitch,” she mutters under breath, before turning to me. “Stop the car.”

I’m about to ask why, when I see what got her attention and slam my foot on the break. Before I have a chance to react, Mia is already scrambling out of the car.

“Honk the horn,” she instructs me as she bends down, picks up a loose branch, and starts waving it in the air.

She looks fearless as she takes a few steps toward the black bear, who is taking notice. Half his body had been stuck in a bin beside her shed, but it’s big head is now turned toward Mia, who is yelling and getting a little too close for comfort. I get tangled in the damn seatbelt when I try to climb out of the car, and it takes me a second to get free.

“Horn!” she yells again, when the bear rears to its hind legs, from what I understand, not a good sign. I dive back in the car and lay on the horn. That draws his attention away from Mia as he drops down on all fours and calmly lumbers into the trees beyond, casting a last glance behind him.

I’m pissed when I stalk around the car to give her a piece of my mind.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I roar, making Mia jump a foot in the air before she swings around, dropping her stick in the process. The only thing she manages is a choked protest as I pull her tight in my arms, my focus on the tree line beyond.

“Your heart is racing,” she points out, her hands splayed on my chest, and I drop my eyes to her face.

“Ya think? You scared the crap out of me,” I admit. “What were you thinking, getting out of the goddamn car?” I’m still shouting even as she pats my chest with her hand.

“This is not my first rodeo, Jared,” she replies way to calmly. “You’ll get used to them. It’s worse in the early spring when they’re starving.” She looks back at the trees before facing me again, a reassuring smile on her face. “It’s just a little unusual he showed up in the middle of the day, but it’s my own fault. I left my compost bucket out, the scent must have drawn him in,” she says, pushing back from my hold. “Besides, he was just a young one, more brawn than brains. He doesn’t know who’s boss here.”

I’ve got nothing to say as I watch her pick up the bucket before she walks to her cottage.

It’s only then that I notice the dog frantically barking inside.

It takes me a second to get over the fact that the same woman who, less than an hour ago, was trembling in fear in the grocery store, just went head-to-head with a bear with nothing but a skinny little branch, and cojones the size of bowling balls.

She’s something all right.