31. Sterling
With Georgie asleep, I decided to take the baby monitor and go for a run on the treadmill. I had let the habit of working out slip away as taking care of Georgie had become all-encompassing. How the hell did women do it?
They took care of kids, they worked, they took care of their families, and they had to deal with the pressures of society to return to physically fit conditions. I had help, and I still hadn’t managed a regular workout in weeks.
One step at a time. I needed to get myself to some of those parenting classes. Maybe that was where the secrets to being able to manage everything plus a baby were divulged.
The lights flickered. I looked up from my thoughts and saw Wayne waiting for me to acknowledge him. I nodded and stepped off the treadmill, letting the rollers continue.
“Miss Cecelia is on her way up,” Wayne announced.
“Really? I didn’t expect her today.” I shut down the treadmill and grabbed the baby monitor before I followed Wayne upstairs.
It was late afternoon. Far too early for her to come over. She was the one who decided that she wouldn’t ever be here when there was even the slightest chance that anyone from her office could be, or the nanny. She had been very specific about that, including how her name should not appear as a contact in my phone, but I should instead use a code or a pet name for her.
She was very specific about covering tracks and not being found out.
I cut through the kitchen and checked my phone where I had left it plugged in and charging to see if she had called or texted and whether I had missed it. Something had to be wrong. My gut twisted. Feeling that things weren’t right, I went to check on Georgie, to see if she was okay. She was sound asleep. There was no reason to assume anything was wrong. I just felt the need for reassurance.
Cecelia stormed out of the elevator and was looking around as I approached. She hurled a wadded-up T-shirt at me.
“She’s been going through your things!” She looked like she had been crying.
I looked at the shirt in my hand. “Who has been going through my things?”
I lifted the shirt to my nose. It smelled clean, of the fabric softener Wayne used. I didn’t understand.
“Peggy Stanholt gave my shirt, that she found here, to my boss. I told her I probably left it here back when I was your case manager, but she didn’t believe me. She said they knew I’ve been seeing you. I never once admitted to anything. But she had information. I think they’ve had me followed or something.”
A growl escaped my throat. I didn’t like the thought of someone I was supposed to trust actively spying on me. And I was supposed to trust the agency. After all, they wanted what was best for Georgie. It didn’t mean that I did trust them, though.
“Why would they do that?”
Cecelia raged and threw her hands as she paced in a tight circle. “I wish I knew. I mean, fine, they think there is something going on between us, then fire me already. But I don’t get the whole point of removing me from the case and then spying on you.”
“Are they investigating me?” I asked.
“Not that I know of, but there is something else going on that I am not privy to. I thought they just didn’t want me getting too attached.”
I started to chuckle, but one look at her face, and the sound died in my throat. Cecelia did not find humor in the irony of that.
“Are you listening to me?” She stopped and glared at me.
“I am listening.”
“Then why don’t you say something?” she asked.
She was so distressed, she wasn’t making sense. How was I supposed to listen and still say something? I had heard her. The Stanholt woman was snooping through my belongings. I already had a list forming in my head of what to do next. I would give the agency a call and request their documentation on a background check and any insurance bonding they had on her. I would request that an internal investigation be made regarding the removal of any other belongings from my home.
I smiled slightly, not because of the extra unnecessary work this situation put me in but because of Cecelia’s influence on my life. I was making lists. I could even visualize each step in her loopy handwriting on a sheet of paper.
Pointing out that she was working herself into a frenzy wasn’t going to do anyone any favors. “I was thinking about what you said. I am listening, and this puts us at a disadvantage.”
“Disadvantage? Sterling, they’re transferring me across the state.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
She pinched her lips shut and breathed through her nose like a huffing bull ready to charge. “Apparently, it’s a temporary transfer, at least for now. They don’t even care that I have clients here who will be put at a disadvantage by my absence.”
I stared at her, still wrapping my head around what she was telling me. They were spying on me, on us.
“Okay, how temporary?”
She glared at me and stared hard. “They are sending me away!”
“I heard you. Why? Where?” I needed more answers than I was getting.
“You don’t look very upset.” Cecelia’s words were very clipped. She adjusted her shoulders and stood more upright.
“I’m still trying to make sense out of what you are telling me. No, I don’t like any of the words you’ve said so far, but I don’t have enough information to be upset yet. Trust me, I will get there.” It was hard to keep irritation out of my voice. Cecelia was frantic, and I wasn’t keeping up because she wasn’t giving me all of the pertinent details.
“I don’t have a choice. If I want to keep my job, I have to be there next week. And then they might decide to make it permanent.”
I didn’t ask, I just lifted my hands in a hopeless gesture. “Where?”
“They’re sending me to Amarillo!” she wailed.
And then the baby monitor started wailing. I was surrounded with the sirens of distressed women. Georgie shrieked. I flinched.
“Let me get her.” I started to turn to get the baby.
“That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Cecelia, I have to get the baby,” I said evenly.
“Oh, crap. Why did I even bother?” She continued to glare at me as she stepped inside the elevator and punched the buttons.
I was torn between getting Georgie and going after Cecelia. Georgie didn’t scream like that. I had to see what was wrong. I was surprised that Cecelia wasn’t following me. I turned to watch her step into the elevator.
“Cecelia, that’s not what… I meant,” But she didn’t hear me as the doors closed on my words. I stood there, still, not exactly certain how to respond.
Georgie howled again and I ran down the hallway. “What?” I barked as I crashed into her room.
Her face was red and tear-streaked, and my yell scared another high-pitched scream from her. She tried to get away from me as I approached the crib. She was sweaty and upset, and I had come in like some monster.
“Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I lifted Georgie into my arms. She was soaking wet. No wonder she was miserable.
My focus shifted. I was very aware that I needed to call Cecelia and explain myself, but right now, Georgie needed me, and Georgie was my priority.
I peeled her wet clothes off and wiped her down with baby wipes. She really needed a bath. I could imagine that it would be a disaster. She was already miserable and upset. Shoving her into a shower wouldn’t make her feel any safer. I got her dressed in something clean and dry before I carried her into the kitchen and warmed up a bottle.
It took her a long while to settle. Whatever she had dreamed about had spooked her. Or maybe waking up covered in urine was really that upsetting. She didn’t want me to put her down.
With Georgie clinging to me like a baby koala, I found my phone where I had left it in the kitchen and tried to call Cecelia. It went straight to voicemail. I suspected she hadn’t even turned the phone on for the day yet, and I doubted she was home.
She was pissed off at me and the world. She needed to calm down before I felt like I could reasonably talk to her. Moving to Amarillo wasn’t a bad idea, but only because no one would know who I was there.
I could visit her whenever I had time or wanted, and we wouldn’t have to hide. But I hadn’t said that. I hadn’t responded the way Cecelia had wanted, had needed me to respond. And then I went and barked at the baby.
I kissed Georgie on the head. “I’m sorry,” I muttered. I hadn’t treated either of my special girls very well.