When a Man Loves a Woman (Indigo) (13 page)

A.J. chuckled as he peeked around Vic and looked over at Zach. “Yes. Just wait until you and Moni add a second one.” He caressed Vic’s bottom. “Well, I guess I need to go and determine the source of this battle.”

“No, stay and finish talking with Zach and listen out for Bébé and CeCe. I’m on this one.” Vic left the dining room and headed down the hall. “All right. Now what’s the problem here, people?”

Zach watched Vic until she was well out of hearing distance. “Brother-in-law,” he whispered, leaning over, “ya don’ talked her out of leaving, right?”

A.J.’s eyes twinkled with delight as he sat, recalling the passion and love they’d shared the last several hours. Smiling, he bobbed his head up and down. “Zach, trust me, I don’t believe you have to worry about that anymore.”

Zach pushed his empty dish away, sighing with satisfaction, and rested his hand on a full stomach. “That’s good ’cause ya woman can burn. If ya ever get tired of her cooking, send her my way. Ain’t had cooking like this since I left my mama’s house.”

A.J. chuckled.

Zach’s eyes slid shut. “And ya sure she ain’t gonna move, right?”

A.J. nodded. “
Oui
.”

* * *

Vic stood in the middle of Taylor and Tyler’s bedroom with her hands on her hips. “Ladies, what’s going on in here?”

The décor of the space was French antique done in multiple shades of pink and white. The walls were sorbet pink, and the elegant floral fabrics and canopy-topped twin beds added an undeniably feminine charm.

Vic studied Taylor intently to be certain the wheezy sound she heard wasn’t another asthma attack. Satisfied that all was well, she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing out loud. Taylor and Tyler sat on their beds with their backs to each, arms folded across their little heaving chests.

Vic needed the facts, and she needed them fast. Asking Taylor was not an option because her logical way of thinking would pose a thousand other questions before she even got around to answering the initial one. So, Vic opted to query Tyler first. She’d have the hardcore truth in about two seconds flat. “All right, T-Two,” she said, looking at Tyler, “what’s going on?”

Tyler looked up at Vic and tossed her thumb over her shoulder. “She started it, Honey. She took my doll.”

“Did not,” Taylor shouted back.

“Did, too,” Tyler countered. “She took it without ’mission, Honey.”

Vic chuckled. “It’s called
permission
, T-Two.” Then she glanced over at Taylor. “T-One, is that true?”

“Uh,” Taylor hedged.

“T-One,” Vic said, “the answer is simple. It’s either yes or no. Did you take T-Two’s doll without permission?”

“Honey, she’s not playing with it. It was just sitting there, and the baby doll didn’t want to sit by herself. The baby doll needs me—”

“All right, T-One, I get the picture.” Vic hid a grin behind the back of her hand, then sat on the floor and beckoned both girls to her. She patted her lap and waited for them to settle themselves before turning her attention to Taylor. “T-One, if you want to play with something that belongs to someone else, you ask their permission. Understand?”

Taylor nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Vic smiled. “Okay, now I want you to tell T-Two you’re sorry.”

Taylor mumbled under her breath, “Sorry, T-Two.”

Vic glanced over at Tyler. “T-Two, do you accept T-One’s apology?”

“No.” Tyler huffed and turned her head away.

“T-Two…” Vic’s voice was stern, yet gentle.

“All right, I ’cept—”

“That’s
accept
, T-Two,” Vic amended.

“I accept your ’pology—”

“It’s pronounced
apology,
sweetie,” Vic corrected.

Tyler sighed. “I accept your apology, T-One.”

“That’s more like it.” Vic hugged both girls to her chest. “Listen, we are a family now, and that includes Bébé and CeCe, too. I don’t care if the world falls down around you, I expect all four of you to grab hands and hold on to one another for dear life. Understand, Honey?”

Smiling, Taylor and Tyler looked up at Vic. “Yes, ma’am.”

Taylor looped her arms around Vic’s neck. “Love you, Honey.”

“Yeah, love you, Honey,” Tyler affirmed.

Vic gave both girls a big bear hug. “Love my babies, too.”

“Honey?” Taylor said, with a quizzical look.

“What, sweet pea?”

“You not leave us, right?”

Vic blinked back tears as she shook her head. “Nope. Honey’s here to stay.”

Chapter 13

Friday morning, Vic checked in with the police officers assigned to guard Valerie when she went to Highland Hospital to visit her. She brought along a digital camera loaded with several pictures of Brianna and Chloé that she and Baptiste had taken. Afterwards, she took the elevator up to the intensive care unit to see how Nicole, the accident victim, was doing. She didn’t learn until she spoke with one the nurses that Ron had performed a difficult but successful surgery to remove Nicole’s brain tumor and the chances of Nicole pulling through had dramatically increased. As soon as she opened the door, she spotted Ron talking with Nicole’s parents by her bedside and turned to walk away.

Ron caught sight of Vic from the corner of his eye. “Vic?”

Vic halted when she heard Ron call out to her and turned to face him. “How’s Nicole doing?”

“She’s in a drug-induced coma, but she’s stable. I believe she’s going to make it.”

So much had transpired in the last forty-eight hours that Vic silently admitted she hadn’t given much thought to what she would say if she ever saw Ron again. She glanced up at Ron. “How are you doing?”

Ron swept his hand toward the waiting area. Together, he and Vic walked in silence down the corridor. After Vic settled in a seat, he sat next to her. “I’m okay.” He paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Vic, I-I just want you to know how sorry I am for the pain I put you through.”

As Vic nodded, she couldn’t help noticing the dark circles underneath his eyes. “You look tired.”

“I am,” Ron replied as a loud growl rumbled inside his stomach. He chuckled. “I guess I’m hungry, too. After I grab a bite to eat, I’m going back to my hotel room and get some sleep. My flight leaves later this evening.”

“Ron, you’re a gifted surgeon,” Vic admitted without hesitation, lacing her fingers together to control the trembling. “Thank you for helping Nicole.” Fumbling with the strap on her purse, she looped it across her shoulder, and stood. “I-I better head back down to Nicole’s room. I want to see how she and her parents are doing.”

Ron nodded, rising to his feet and started to speak, then hesitated before he finally asked, “How are you doing, Vic? Are you happy?”

With the thoughts of the family she’d always longed for now in her life via Baptiste, Taylor, and Tyler, along with Brianna and Chloé, a bright smile surfaced. “I’m good, Ron. And yes, I’m very happy.”

“You’re positive?”

“Absolutely.”

“Vic,” Ron uttered softly with his head bowed, “I hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. I was the one who made the mistake for not being honest with you, for not being honest with myself. When we first met, I was in denial about who I was.” He glanced up at her. “You deserve to be happy.”

Vic reached out and placed her hand atop his. “I am happy, Ron, more than you could ever imagine.” She wasn’t so naïve that she didn’t realize that it would take time to come to terms with the past. Nor had she forgotten that the first step toward the healing process was to open up to other people who’d gone through the same experience as she had. But she was strong enough to know that she had to release herself from the bondage of the past and move on. She held Ron’s gaze and it happened. It was just like her mother had said it would be. Looking Ron square in the eyes, remembering all the pain she’d suffered, a peace she thought she’d never feel toward him came over her.

“Ron.” Her voice was clear and strong.

“Yes?”

With tears shimmering in her eyes, she said, “I wish you well.”

* * *

Vic entered Nicole’s room a half hour later. After ending her conversation with Ron, she’d headed down to the hospital’s accounting department. The night before, she and Baptiste had discussed and agreed to make arrangements for all of Nicole’s bills to be forwarded to them.

Once she entered Nicole’s room, Vic spoke with her parents and encouraged them to go and grab a bite to eat, assuring them that she’d stay with their daughter until they returned. She settled in the chair next to the bed and spoke to Nicole even though she was in a coma. As a nurse, Vic knew there were different levels of consciousness and she hoped that by speaking to Nicole she’d be able to hear her.

A nurse came in, and seeing Vic talking to Nicole, gave her a curious look, but didn’t ask her to leave. As she checked the monitors and noted the information on Nicole’s medical chart, she glanced over at Vic, surprised. “Hmm,” she murmured, “I think our little patient here is responding to you.”

Gently rubbing the top of Nicole’s hand, Vic looked up at the nurse and smiled. “You think so?”

The nurse nodded with a smile. “Her heartbeat is stronger, and her respiration settles whenever you speak. Whatever you’re saying to her, don’t stop.”

Vic waited until the nurse left the room and repeated even more forcefully than before what she’d said to Nicole over and over from the moment she walked in. “Live.”

* * *

“Man, that’s the third bowl of cobbler you’ve eaten,” Vic teased later that evening in the dining room after she and Baptiste had settled the girls down for the night.

“I know,” A.J. acknowledged. “But nobody makes peach cobbler better than you.” He patted his lap and once Vic settled, wrapped his arms around her waist. “How’s Nicole doing?”

Vic shared with Baptiste Nicole’s reaction to her during her visit. She also told him that she planned to go back every day until Nicole regained consciousness. Finally, she ended by relating her conversation with Ron. She felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and her heart because she’d finally found the place inside of her to forgive Ron.

A.J. responded by giving her a long, passionate kiss.

Vic chuckled when she was finally able to gather her senses again. She looked at the bowl. “You bet’ not tell Zach I make my cobbler with no sugar.”

“Really?” A.J. was stunned.

“Umm-hmm. Everything I cook now is either low in fat or sugar-free.”

“Why?”

“Child, diabetes runs in my family. Plus, a few years ago, I suffered with high blood pressure from messing around with those crazy people at work. They almost had my pressure up to stroke level.” She wiggled her bottom against him. “Besides, with these big hips, I knew I needed to make a lifestyle change and lose some weight.”

“You’re not big.”

“Hey, I fill out a fourteen real good. That’s about as far up the ladder as I want to go.”

“But you’re a good-looking fourteen.”

“Yeah, right. You’re just saying that because you want me around to feed you.”

“No. I want you, period,” he answered easily.

Vic glanced at him, clamping her thighs together. The softness in his gaze made her body jerk with desire to be touched by him, soon. “I want you, too.”

He stood and grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s clean up the kitchen. It’ll probably be thirty more minutes before the girls are really asleep.”

* * *

With his arms stretched wide on the back of the Jacuzzi, A.J. let Vic settle herself between his legs. “What about you? Did you always want to be a nurse?”

She smiled. “Actually, becoming a nurse was not what I set out to do. Even though I had an excellent example in Mom, it wasn’t until I was challenged by one of my teachers at a career-day fair in high school that I decided to take the plunge.” She chuckled and glanced around at him. “It’s funny how Harrison and I followed after Mom and became healthcare professionals.”

“But you ended up in administration. Why?”

“After I graduated from nursing school, I worked in pediatric oncology for a couple of years. Took care of a little guy whose parents were like Nicole’s; they didn’t have insurance. That’s when I started to really understand the disparity between the haves and the have-nots. I literally had to fight tooth and nail to get the hospital to provide the treatment I knew he should receive.”

“Did he make it?”

Vic smiled happily. “He did, and to this day I stay in contact with him and his family. After that incident, I knew in order to change the system I had to be at the table where decisions are made.”

“Why did you quit?”

She chuckled. “The main reason was to get away from you.”

He whispered against her ear and jokingly said, “I never would have guessed that.”

She laughed. “Hush, man. No, seriously, I got tired of the cat fighting. This person, that person worried about their next promotion instead of doing their job. Plus, I had a boss who was a closet racist.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He about flipped the day I came to work with my dreads.”

Lifting them in his hand, A.J. let them fall through his fingers one by one. “I like them. So what was his problem?”

“He told me off the record that my ‘look,’ ” she explained, making quote signs with her fingers, “wasn’t conservative. The dumb dickhead wouldn’t have known what conservative was if it slapped him upside his head.”

“Honey,” A.J. said, chuckling, “I’m going to have to wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Well, it’s the truth.” She made the Girl Scout sign. “I promise from now on to watch my language around the girls.”

A.J. threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Too late,
mon amour
.”

Vic craned her neck so her vision was better aligned with his. “Whatcha mean, too late?”

“The two little women around here who can talk also know how to curse—in French.”

“What?” Vic laughed. “Who taught ’em?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet. As much as this family gossips, no one owns up to that one.”

Vic focused straight ahead, pondering a question she’d been meaning to ask for months. “Baptiste, why’d you put T-One and T-Two in separate classes at school?”

“Because I used to dress them alike and their teacher was having a really difficult time telling them apart.”

“Come on now, Baptiste. Yeah, they’re identical, but those two munchkins are as different as night and day.”

“
We
know that, but I can understand the difficulty someone else would have who doesn’t really know them all that well.”

Vic nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Ready for a shower?” he whispered in a husky tone next to her ear.

The desire in his voice caused a chill to race down her spine. “Mmm-hmm. And I’m ready for what comes after the shower, too.”

* * *

Upon Baptiste’s insistence, Vic slept in late the next morning. When she finally woke up around ten, her breakfast consisted of soggy Cheerios and half-burnt toast, courtesy of Taylor and Tyler. She cringed when she looked down at the breakfast tray Baptiste helped them bring to the bed. She hated Cheerios. But she lovingly ate every single one of them, grateful to her two girls for the gesture. In between eating her breakfast, she fed Bébé and CeCe their breakfast after first insisting they be tucked on each side of her.

Around noon, she walked into the living room with a laundry basket under her arm and noticed Baptiste sitting at the dining room table. Frowning, he stared at the stack of papers spread out in front of him.

Chuckling to herself, she walked over to the table. “Man, what’s wrong with you? You look like a bear.”

He sighed. “I’m trying to balance my checkbook.”

She lifted her brow. “Do you go into hyperventilation this way every month when you reconcile your statement?”

“No. Usually Aimee does it for me.”

Vic knew that Aimee, A.J.’s youngest sister, was a Stanford-educated CPA and usually handled all of the family finances. She placed the basket on the floor and pointed at the bank statements. “Here, if you do laundry, I’ll balance.”

A.J. stood and nodded. “Gladly.”

Vic sat and shuffled through the papers. She causally asked, “So, this is your personal checking account, right?”

A.J. picked the laundry basket off the floor. “No. It’s the household account, but the personal account needs to be balanced, too, so have at it, if you’d like.” He headed off toward the laundry room, but stopped and turned around. “Let me know what day we can go to the bank. I need to add your name to the accounts.”

“’Kay,” Vic absently mumbled, glancing over the statements. Her eyes bulged at the ending balance. She didn’t even recall the numbers in front of the six zeros she’d counted. And this was just the household account? Lord, she was scared to know the amount he had in his personal checking account.

Vic finished reconciling Baptiste’s accounts and headed toward the laundry room. Before she reached the door, she heard the sounds of muffled laughter coming from inside. She was just about to open her mouth to fuss at him for joking around and taking two hours to finish a load and a half of laundry when she saw something truly amazing.

Baptiste and the girls were atop the clothes strewn across the floor. He was using something as simple as dirty clothes to teach and observe. Each time he held up a piece of clothing, Taylor and Tyler were able to identify the colors or tell him whether it was big, medium, or small. And whenever he positioned himself behind Bébé and CeCe and made a playful razing sound, they would crawl away as fast as they could while he sat back, observing their gross motor skills.

Vic smiled at the priceless moment being shared between a father and his daughters.

What the heck? The laundry could wait.

* * *

Around three that afternoon, Vic walked past the living room and found Baptiste sitting comfortably in an old, tattered recliner, with remote in hand, waiting for the opening pitch of his favorite baseball team, the Oakland A’s.

“Baptiste…”

A.J. never took his gaze away from the television screen. “Yes,
mon amour
?”

“Man, why did you bring that raggedy chair back inside my living room?”

“Because this is where it belongs,” he answered without hesitation.

It had taken her over forty-five minutes to get it out of the living room and into the garage. With her mouth wide open, she stared at him in disbelief. “But I moved it out of here yesterday.”

“And I brought it back in today.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted.

“Baptiste…”