Hindsight

Chapter Two

What happened with Xander

It was like a classic, cheesy romantic movie cliché, the way I met Xander Davies. Pushing the stroller with one hand, trying to shove my change from my coffee purchase back into my purse, I literally ran right into him.

“Hey! Careful!”

I heard the voice, but it took me a moment to realize the stranger was talking to me. When I finally looked up, I felt my face turn to flame. The man whose foot the stroller was attempting to climb over was hot, like seriously hot.

Light blonde hair cut short but with a hint of curl, dark blue eyes with a thick fringe of lashes, a very neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. A killer smile directed at...me??

I didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything, because guys like him didn’t smile at me. Hell, they didn’t even notice me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice just the right depth, smooth, pleasant.

“I...yes, fine,” I stammered. “Are you? I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching, I had my change, the stroller is hard with one hand…” I was babbling so I just stopped talking.

He looked at me with an amused smile. “I’m fine,” he assured me. “Great, even. I rarely get run over by a beautiful woman and her adorable baby.”

“Oh!” I squeaked, yes, actually squeaked. “No, he’s not mine. He’s the nanny. I mean I’m the nanny. His nanny.” God, I’m really making a mess of this, I thought, then, Wait, did he just say I was beautiful? Me?

The man laughed but not in a mean way. He apparently enjoyed my scintillating conversation.

“My mistake,” he said easily. “Can I buy you a coffee?”

I looked at the cup in my hand then back at him, confused, but he raised his eyebrows expectantly, still smiling.

I felt myself nodding, wondering how such a crazy, chance encounter was happening to me.

It would take nearly six months before I understood there was nothing “chance” about it.

*****

I sat at one of those tiny coffee shop tables, across from this crazy-hot guy, who for whatever reason, wanted to buy me a cup of coffee. Justin slept in his stroller while I just picked up the cup and sat it back down at least fifty times, too nervous to actually drink it. I hadn’t dated much, and I’d certainly never dated anyone who looked like him so I didn’t know how to act. I felt awkward and uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to leave.

“I’m Xander, by the way,” he said, leaning back in his seat, completely at ease.

I nodded, smiling vaguely, then got the hint. “Oh, yes, okay,” I stammered (again). “I’m Claire. That’s Justin.” I indicated the sleeping boy in the stroller.

“Claire.” My name rolled off his tongue in a way I liked. “Very pretty name. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he said, winking. “You are a pretty girl. Or woman, I should say.”

I was turning red again, so I looked down at my coffee, picked it up, brought it to my lips, set it down again. I glanced around the coffee shop, anywhere but at him, reeling, trying to figure out what to do, willing myself to say something witty. “Do you like the coffee here?” I finally asked.

Xander smiled at me. “I do,” he said. “Best coffee in town. You?”

I gestured to my cup. “I’m addicted. I stop here every week after story time at the library.” Wow, I managed that sentence with no stuttering or blushing. Yay for me.

“Good to know,” Xander said, still smiling. “I’ll have to adjust my schedule. So I’ll be sure to run into you again.”

Crap, I was blushing again. “Okay,” was all I could come up with.

“I’m sorry, am I being too presumptuous?” He was more serious now. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I would love it if you’d consider having coffee with me again sometime?”

“Really?” I asked. “Why?” God, when did I become so awkward??

Xander was nonplussed. “I don’t know a lot of people. I moved here a few months ago, I work a lot. And like I said...you’re a very pretty young woman. Why wouldn’t I be interested in having coffee with you again?”

“But...um, well, okay, sure,” I was both confused and intrigued. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Xander asked. “You wouldn’t mind if I met you here next week at this time?”

“I’ll be here,” I told him. “But in the meantime, if you, you know, change your mind or meet someone else...it’s okay.”

“Claire,” Xander leaned forward. “I won’t change my mind. I’m sure of it. I need to run now, get back to work. But it was really nice meeting you. I’ll see you next week?”

I nodded, speechless. I watched him get up and leave the shop. As soon as he was out the door and around the corner, I grabbed my coffee and took a long sip. It was only a bit past warm by now but I didn’t care. The caffeine and sugar flooded my system, making me feel more like myself.

I was overwhelmed by what had happened. I didn’t attract men like him. I could count on one hand the number of guys I’d dated and still have fingers left, and none of them had been anything like this man I’d just shared coffee with. I sat for a few more moments, finishing the coffee, trying to wrap my head around it all.

I needed to talk to Kristen, Justin’s mom, my boss and friend. She and her husband were the only people I’d ever gotten so close to, true friends. I glanced at my watch. Kristen would be home from her meeting soon. I’d have enough time to get back to the house, give Justin lunch, and get him down for his afternoon nap, and then I’d get Kristen’s take on all of it.

Chapter Three

Present Day

I woke just before the alarm, not quite 6:00 a.m, like I had every morning for the last two years. I rolled over to find Henry sprawled next to me. He was making it through the night in his own bed most of the time, but he was still there sometimes when I woke. I didn’t mind. I was always more restless when he wasn’t right next to me in bed. But Agent Fielder had insisted that it was important to treat Henry, and myself for that matter, like normal people, and I understood it was a good thing he was sleeping in his own bed more and more.

I looked at the beautiful, sleeping child who was now my son. He wouldn’t wake for another hour and a half so I had time. I bent closer, kissing his cheek lightly before gently and quietly getting out of bed. I grabbed workout out clothes and headed to the spare room, where an elliptical machine and weight set resided.

I turned on the T.V., stepped onto the trainer and warmed up before doing a good run for thirty minutes. Then a quick turn with the weights, arms today, one hundred crunches and some stretches, off to shower.

I wiped the steam off the bathroom mirror and began the mantra. I still had ten minutes before Henry would wake, wanting breakfast, so I got started.

I looked at the face in the mirror. The blonde hair that wasn’t real, the brown eyes that were. Soon the blue contact lenses would go in, but for now I was staring into my own, real eyes.

“You are Claire Berkeley. Your hair is brown. Your eyes are brown. You have a degree in Education. You are twenty-eight years old. You grew up in rural Colorado. You like to be outside and you love to read. You are a runner. Justin Graves is the child you nannied since birth. He is beautiful and sweet and perfect, and now he is your son, Henry. You are a mother.”

That last had only become true within the last year. Henry had started calling me “mama” almost immediately, but I hadn’t felt like “mama” so quickly.

Luke, aka Agent Fielder, didn’t know about the mantra and I knew he wouldn’t approve, would say it was too risky. But life after Xander Davies still didn’t feel like my life. He’d taken everything from me, torn me down and forced me to rebuild myself into someone completely new, a stranger. The mantra kept me grounded. It helped me feel connected to the woman I’d been, the carefree life I’d led. The mantra helped me feel real. Risky or not, I needed it.

I wouldn’t say life was bad now, but it often felt surreal. I shook my head, smiling a bit. I looked at the fake but expensive and tasteful blonde dye job. If nothing else, I did look pretty good as a blonde. The U.S. Marshals and Luke had insisted I alter my appearance as much as possible when I assumed my new identity. I popped in the blue contact lenses and just like that, I was no longer Claire Berkeley.

Now I was Joy Wheeler, single mom to Henry, who was running, full-tilt right towards me. I laughed as he launched himself at my body, wrapped his chubby little arms around my legs.

“Mama!” he shrieked. “Can I have pancakes?”

I laughed again. This kid, food was always the first thing on his mind and at four years old, I was surprised at how much he could eat. “You bet,” I told him. “Blueberry? Or Banana?”

“Chocolate chip!” he proclaimed.

“Oh, now, you know the rule. No chocolate before lunch. Strawberry, maybe?” I offered.

Henry puffed his lips out, his version of a pout. “Okaaaay….” he agreed. He had embraced full drama the last few months.

“Good,” I told him. “But we have to get a move on. Mama has work to do today, so Mrs. Wright will be here soon. Go get dressed and I’ll start the pancakes.”

“Is Uncle Luke coming today, too?” Henry asked excitedly.

I shook my head. “Not until Saturday, remember? Today’s only Thursday.”

Again the fake pout. “Aww, man.”

I tousled his soft blonde hair. “Go. Now. Clothes.” I made as if I would tickle him. He squealed with delight and darted from my reach, running to his room to dress. “Uncle Luke said he’s taking us fishing!”

I smiled. Special Agent Luke Fielder of the FBI had an atypical role in our lives. He’d come off an undercover assignment and been immediately assigned to Henry and me. Still undercover, still watching over us, he lived here in the same town and spent a lot of time with us.

In a weird way, he’d become part of our family. He ate dinner with us about four times a week and at least twice a month, we had some sort of outing--a picnic, horseback riding, fishing. He was a regular fixture in our lives, and I was glad.

His cover as a local high school phys ed teacher suited him and enabled him to be close to us all the time. His house was only a few miles from ours.

He’d taught me a lot. Self-defense techniques, how to shoot a gun, and how to make sure I did damage with it. He’d helped me work through the times I doubted my ability to be a good parent to Henry. I don’t know if we would’ve made it without him.

And now, two years after we’d arrived here, even with no sign of Xander, Luke was still here. I knew he had to have been offered other assignments, but he’d promised he wasn’t going anywhere until Xander Davies was securely in custody or dead. I preferred the latter.

I served up strawberry pancakes with peanut butter for Henry, who always refused the real maple syrup I preferred. I ate with him, drank two cups of coffee and was just finishing the clean up when Mrs. Wright, our babysitter arrived.

She was a slightly plump woman in her late fifties who was happy to look after Henry for the small fee I paid her. Her warm smile greeted me as she came into the kitchen. I wasn’t surprised to see the small wooden puzzle she put on the table. It wasn’t uncommon for her to bring a small gift for Henry, and as most were educational, it scored huge points with me.

“Joy, you didn’t sleep well, did you?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I got enough. There’s extra pancakes and coffee. I put leftover pasta in the fridge for lunch today, there’s plenty, so help yourself. And Henry has to eat some salad or broccoli.”

“He says he doesn’t like vegetables,” Mrs. Wright commented. It was an old argument.

“Yeah, well, that’s not a thing,” I said. “He has to eat his veggies to be big and strong. He knows that. If he eats them he can have a Hershey’s Kiss after.”

Mrs. Wright sighed. “You’re much better at sticking to healthy habits than I was with my kids. I always let them eat whatever they wanted, never insisted they eat anything they didn’t. Probably why they both still live on junk food!”

I smiled. “I hardly think I can hold a candle to you as a mom.” I meant it. This woman had become a sort of surrogate mother to me since she’d come into our lives.

She waved off my compliment like she always did. “A lot of work today?” she asked.

I nodded. “At least six hours. Are you okay with that?” I worked as a virtual research assistant and had several clients. Today, I had work for three of them. It was sometimes tedious work, but I didn’t need to worry about sending Henry to daycare, and Mrs. Wright was wonderful with the home preschool curriculum I provided for her to do with Henry. I really don’t pay her enough, I thought, determined to give her a raise. I’d tried a few times but she refused to accept anything more.

“Of course,” she said. “I’ll continue with Henry’s handwriting work, and we’ll do some of the math that’s left for this week. Then a science experiment or two.”

“There’s some new pattern activities I’d like him to try. And don’t work all day. You guys should get outside. It’s supposed to be nice.”

Mrs. Wright nodded. “If I set the table out back, will you join us for lunch?”

I smiled. She always tried to make sure I was eating. I often skipped lunch on work days. “I think that sounds great.”

“Will Luke be around today?” she asked. “I can set a place for him.”

I laughed, couldn’t help it. She thought Luke was more than a friend and was always fishing for information. “No, he’s not free for lunch today or tomorrow. Just us.”

She nodded. “I’ll go fetch Henry, then.”

She went to find my son, and I headed into the small room that served as my home office. I fired up my MacBook Pro and got to work.

Chapter Four

Present Day

Yes, it was definitely a gradual thing, the shift in my relationship with Luke. I suppose spending almost everyday in the presence of each other had a lot to do with it. We both got used to how the other thought and acted. Ever so slowly, the panic attacks lessened. Therapy definitely helped, even though I complained bitterly about it.

Luke was the one who suggested I start going to a church. I’d resisted that, too, not because I didn’t believe but because I was still getting my feet under me as a mother and didn’t know if I could manage to be social with all the other changes I was dealing with.

We’d been living in town for just over a month, and Henry had started to call me Mama, but I always feared he’d forget and call me Claire, which he’d learned to say right before Xander took everything from him. Henry had often cried for his parents during the first couple of weeks after they died. The therapist who initially worked with us suggested that I not encourage him to call me Mama but rather refer to myself as Mama gradually. So that’s what I did, and by the time we’d moved into our house, he was calling me Mama most of the time. It made me feel both relieved and sad. Relieved because it helped solidify our backstory and new identities, sad because he was already forgetting his parents.

Luke pushed me out of my comfort zone regularly, trying to get me to act “normal.” I wasn’t sure I even knew what that meant anymore. But I finally stopped fighting against every suggestion he made and found that some of the things he encouraged me to do made sense.

Church was one of them. I felt welcomed without being crowded. I interacted with people, exchanged pleasantries, went to potlucks. I met another single mom, Emily, and began a very cautious friendship. Church is also where I met Mrs. Wright.

I guess, if I had to find a turning point in our relationship, a point where I realized Luke really cared about Henry and me, that he’d become a friend...well, it would have to be the day with the milk and the books.

It was ten months after we’d come to town. He’d made a habit of coming over after his job at the high school a couple of days a week. He’d stay for dinner and play with Henry for awhile. Henry adored him, and I thought it was good for him to have a strong male role model.

On that particular day, school was dismissed early because some bad winter weather was moving through the area. Luke called to let me know he’d be over a bit earlier than usual but had a couple of stops to make first.

When he showed up, he had several grocery bags with him and one bag from a department store. “This storm is going to be pretty bad and these rural roads won’t get cleared for a couple days so I brought you some extra bread, eggs, and milk. I noticed yesterday you were getting low on those. I got you some fruit, too, bananas, apples, grapes. It should last until you’re able to get back out to the market.”

I was surprised by his thoughtfulness and was about to protest the milk. But when he pulled it out of the bag, it was the organic whole milk I always bought for Henry. It was even the same brand. Luke usually debated with me about my choices concerning the food I let Henry have so I was pleased that he hadn’t brought the store brand of milk he usually suggested.

Then he pulled three Dr. Seuss books out of the department store bag. “Do you think Henry will like these?”

I looked at the books then at Luke, nodding. “He’ll love them,” I said with a smile. “Thank you. That’s very thoughtful.”

“I feel like he’s getting bored with the books he has so I wanted to get some different ones.”

“I was thinking that, too.”

Luke grinned, a real, genuine smile, something that was happening more and more often. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “We actually agree on something.”

I laughed. “I guess we do.”

From that point, things became...more natural, less forced. And eventually, we started having fun. We started having real conversations and enjoying spending time together. There were still points of contention but for the most part, we fell into a rhythm of companionship. With each new day, I became more and more comfortable with my new normal.

I wasn’t fully aware that it was happening, but I started to look forward to seeing Luke and to the time we spent together. It occurred to me a few weeks after the milk and the books that we had become friends. It was surprising and comforting, and it was real.