41. Ellie
Chapter forty-one
Ellie
“Oh, Sweetpea, I’m gonna miss you so much.” Mom snuggles Audrey and kisses her forehead. “I was excited when your father took that job, but now I’m mad about it.”
Audrey and I are outside saying goodbye to Mom. Hunter’s loading up the last of Mom’s things, then driving her to the Asheville airport. “You know you don’t have to go back yet.”
“I know, but you know your father and I don’t like being apart. Plus, I need to get out of y’all’s hair. You’re settling in well, you don’t need me.”
“I don’t know about that. You’ve been so helpful.”
“I’m just glad you accepted my offer to help. I know we don’t always see eye to eye, but I hope I’ve really been a help and not a stressor.”
“You were not a stressor at all. We’re different, but we love each other. And it’s not like you tried to put Audrey in a cream pantsuit.”
Mom bursts out laughing and wipes a tear from her eye. “That would be far too risky.”
I grin. “I’ll miss you, Mom. I wish you could stay a bit longer.”
Mom pulls me to her, snuggling Audrey between us.
“I’m glad I could help, but this is a special time for y’all, and I don’t need to be a part of it.
” She leans back and presses a kiss to my temple.
“And I know your dad is itching to get his hands on this sweet baby, so we’ll be back before long, I’m sure. ”
“That’s everything,” Hunter says, closing the back door of his truck.
Mom passes Audrey to me. “I’ll see you soon, my girls. Love you.”
“Love you,” I say, then turn my voice into a weird baby voice, “Love you, Nana.”
She giggles. GIGGLES. I rarely see this side of my mother. I love it.
I see them off and the front door hasn’t been closed three minutes when I hear tires in the driveway. I carry Audrey to the window and peek out.
It’s Cleo. She knew mom and Hunter would be gone. She must be coming by for moral support.
“Hey, you,” I say, opening the door.
“There’s my favorite girl,” Cleo says, taking Audrey from my arms. “Oh, hey, Eleanor.”
“Ha. Ha,” I say.
I sit back in the rocking recliner, and Cleo sits across from me on the sofa. She snuggles Audrey, and kisses her forehead, then she whispers something meant for only the baby’s ears. But I hear it.
“You’re pregnant!”
Her eyes fly to me. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you! We wanted to do a whole surprise reveal thing.”
“That does sound like something Ansel would be very into and excited about,” I say knowing full well this surprise reveal thing was all Cleo.
“Okay, it was me. I made myself promise not to tell you.”
“Whispering to Audrey that she’ll have a best friend in eight months was a sweet way to surprise me, though.”
“I’m so happy you know,” Cleo laughs. “I didn’t realize you had the ears of a border collie, though.”
“I think it’s more that you have the whispering ability of a toddler.”
“Do you think it’s a redhead thing?”
“I mean, all the data I have says yes.”
“Cause I’m the data?” My redheaded friend asks with a grin.
“You usually are.”
“Hey!”
We laugh and it fills me with happiness and energy. “It’s pretty warm for January, you wanna go walk around the park? It will be Audrey’s first trip there.”
“First of thousands. Can you imagine how many times you’ll push her on those swings?”
I grin. “So, yes?”
“Yes!”
Half an hour later, Audrey, Cleo, an overfull diaper bag, and I are at Ridgeview Park. We follow the meandering sidewalk through the park to the side that butts up against Main Street. I’m hoping to step into Milky Way Café and Bookshop to get a fancy sugary coffee.
“There’s my girls.” Dylan’s voice oozes over my shoulders like a toxic sludge leak.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Why are we out here without Hunter?
“Cleo,” he says as he steps around us.
“Trash,” Cleo responds.
Dylan doesn’t acknowledge her insult or look her way. His eyes are glued to my baby sleeping peacefully in her stroller.
“Finally getting to see my baby.”
“She is not your baby!” I growl, stopping myself before accidentally mentioning he’s not on the birth certificate. I’d decided to stay silent, but him calling her his … I couldn’t help it.
“She looks a lot like baby pictures I’ve seen of myself.”
She definitely does not.
I pick up my baby and hold her to my chest. Cleo steps between us and Dylan.
“Move along, jerkwad. You know you’re not supposed to be near them.”
“I’m not supposed to be near Ellie, but that’s my baby, and she’s keeping her from me.”
I look to my right and happen to spot Asher coming out of Milky Way. I wave and he smiles, then his smile drops when he takes in the entire situation.
“There won’t always be people around to help you keep my baby from me,” Dylan says as Asher hurries over.
Asher steps into the small space between Cleo and Dylan, getting right in Dylan’s face. What if Dylan hits him with his TBI? Oh my gosh, this is a disaster.
“I suggest you move along.” Asher crosses his arms over his chest, but Dylan just stands there relaxed, and overconfident. Thankfully he doesn’t know about Asher’s injury, or I wouldn’t put it past him to take advantage of it.
“Do we need to call the police?” Asher asks him. “Cleo, can you go ahead and do that?”
“With pleasure,” Cleo replies. She never liked Dylan, even when he had me and everyone else convinced he was a great guy.
“No need for that,” Dylan says casually, as if he’s remarking on the weather.
“I’ll see you around, Ellie.” He walks toward Main Street, and we watch as he gets into his car and drives away.
Relief washes over me, quickly replaced by fear at the knowledge that this could happen again and again.
I move to one of the porch swings that litter the park and sit.
The swinging motion is as much a comfort to me as it is to Audrey who began fussing at some point during the encounter.
Cleo sits down, puts her arm around me, and kisses my temple. “You and Audrey are going to be fine. We’ll figure out how to get rid of Dylan for good.”
“That sounded like you’re wanting to make plans that could end up putting us in jail,” Asher says, eyebrows raised and a crooked grin on his face.
His hair is starting to grow out, though it’s sticking out strangely where his surgery scars are.
I silently say a prayer of thanks that Dylan didn’t notice Asher’s scars or hit him.
“I never took you for a murderer, Cleo,” Asher says.
Cleo shrugs. “I mean, who would miss him?”
“Cleo!” I say, but then I laugh. Who knew fake-plotting murder could do such a good job at lightening the mood?