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It could only be one person. The armed fugitive. A thought flits into my frantic brain. Ned has a gun. But where does he keep it?
My fear escalates to panic. I’m all alone with my baby with no one and nothing to protect us.
My heart in my throat, I’m about to call 911 when one of our surveillance devices comes alive on my phone.
The Ring app.
FIVE
AVA
It’s Nurse Marley Manners. Relief flashes through me so powerfully I shudder.
I lift a wailing Isa out of her bassinet, and, holding her tight against me, I shuffle to the front door, not an easy task in my condition.
The bell rings again. “Coming!” I call out, unable to hush Isa.
Reaching the door, I manage to one-handedly unlock it and swing it open. Any trace of fear I had evaporates when I see the tall, statuesque woman standing before me. The stunning blonde-haired woman I met at Starbucks a few months ago. The lovely woman whose heartwarming photos with adorable babies in her arms grace her website.
As debilitated and frustrated and stupid as I feel, I want to jump for joy.
“Nurse Manners! Welcome! I’m so happy to see you!” The latter is an understatement given that minutes ago I thought my baby and I were going to be gunned down. If I weren’t holding screaming Isa, I’d hug her.
She beams. “I’m a little early. I hope you don’t mind.”
Almost the same height, we hover at the threshold, facing each other. Embarrassment sweeps over me. I must look like a total wreck. Exhausted, disheveled, frazzled.
She, on the other hand, looks like an immaculate professional. I actually wasn’t expecting her to wear a nurse’s uniform, but she is. A wrinkle-free, long-sleeve white dress that hugs the curves of her body and grazes her knees, along with sheer white stockings and sensible yet fashionable white leather sneakers. Her blonder-than-I-remember hair is tied back in a low, loose ponytail. She is more stunning than I remember. It’s her deep-set eyes. They’re the color of amethysts. I’ve never seen orbs like them before.
She returns my smile. Hers is wide and toothy. One that reaches her cheekbones. Her makeup is minimal…just a bit of mascara and a touch of pink lip gloss, yet she looks like a million bucks. A golden glow radiates off her flawless complexion.
“I’m so happy you remembered me,” she says.
“I kept your card. I had a gut feeling it would come in handy.”
“I had the same feeling. You know, fate or kismet, whatever they call it.”
“Totally.” I glance down. By her feet is a large black duffel. “Please come on in. I’m sorry I can’t help you with your bag.”
“No worries.” She casts her eyes over screaming Isa, and another wide smile spans her face. “And besides, you’ve got your hands full.”
I huff out a breath as I hoist Isa higher on my shoulder. “That’s for sure. She’s been fussy all day.”
She moves next to me so that she’s facing the baby. “Isa, right?”
“Wow! You have a great memory.”
“That’s one of my superpowers. I don’t forget anything.”
That used to be me until pregnancy hormones robbed me of my memory and shrouded me in a brain fog. The night nanny’s gaze stays on Isa.
“She’s absolutely beautiful.” She begins to sing, her voice as sweet as a nightingale’s. “Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Mama’s gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, Mama’s gonna…”
Remarkably, my baby’s wails reduce to whimpers as she holds her new caregiver in her sapphire-blue eyes. Is Nurse Manners really a baby whisperer?
A sudden spasm thunders through my gut. I wince in pain. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Nurse Marley. She comes inside and closes the door behind her.
“Please, let me help you.” Smiling, she deftly takes Isa from me. My eyes stay on her as she lovingly holds my baby against her chest with both hands, cupping her unstable head in one. It’s like they’re molded to hold her. Her hands are large, her fingers long and slender, the nails cut short and manicured with a layer of frosted white nail polish, not a chip in sight. I also notice she’s still not wearing any kind of band on her ring finger. Should I assume she’s not married? These days rings don’t mean a thing, and for a nanosecond, I think about the five-carat-diamond one I had to take off (along with my wedding band) because it was cutting off my circulation. Oddly, I don’t miss it and have no desire to put it back on.
