Page 45 of The History in Us

“Don’t flirt with me, Mr. Mullens. It’s of no benefit to you now.” Her arms crossed as she leaned a hip against the bar. She glared at him around me and the air thickened. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Anne had been attracted to the bad boy student after all.

“Well, this is fun, but we’ve got to go.” I didn’t plan to spend the whole night at the photography show. I downed the remainder of my whiskey. No longer wanting the bar scene, I smiled to myself thinking the sooner we attended the show, the sooner I’d return to find Katie in my apartment.

“Did you find reliable daycare?” Anne asked in a concerned tone. I’d worked things out with Mrs. Hubbard for the time being for my class schedule.

“He’s only worried about night-care,” Grant whispered loud enough for Anne to hear. I pushed off the bar and removed myself from the stool.

“Who babysat tonight, Levi?” Anne’s eyes narrowed at me.

“Katie.” The single name said it all. Anne’s eyebrows rose as her arms slipped free from the hold she had over her middle.

“I see.” I hated that tone, that look, that knowing eye of Anne’s. She was reading more into it than she should, and unfortunately, most of what she read might be correct. I wanted Katie Carter in ways I shouldn’t.

“Katie. How sweet,” Grant mocked, his eyes blinking like a school-girl. “Do you happen to know, said Katie, Professor Johnson?”

“It’s doctor, Dr. Johnson, and yes, I do. She’s sweet. One of my star students with big dreams.”

“Well, she shouldn’t be at Northeast then. That’s where dreams go to die.” Grant let the final word vibrate off his throat, sounding harsh and hissy like from a horror film.

“Yes, well, we don’t all have dreams of being president of major conglomerations one day, Mr. Mullens,” Anne retorted, without knowing that Grant didn’t hold that as his dream. Her arms re-crossed in defense of the university. “NEU is a perfectly fine establishment of higher education for those who seek to learn and improve themselves.”

Grant snorted, and I took it as my exit. I’d seen battles with less potential of bloodshed than what was about to happen between these two.

“If you’ll excuse us.” I patted Grant on the shoulder and turned Anne toward the door.

“Yes, yes, run off to the wife and kid.” As soon as he said the words, I saw him cringe, as if the thought were a dirty concept. While the idea seemed foreign to me, it was becoming more of a dream I wanted to be a reality.

* * *

It was still well before midnight when I returned to my apartment, but the place was dark. The television was on silent again, but Katie wasn’t in the living room. My space was small, so it only took a few steps to find her curled up on my bed with AJ sleeping in the center. She’d propped a pillow to the right of him, while she lay on his left. Her hair spread behind her on the pillow as her hands clasped under her cheek. Her knees bend upward, forming a second barrier of protection around AJ. They looked peaceful in their slumber, serene and angelic.

Not wishing to disturb them, my heart raced to join them. I quietly kicked off my shoes and pressed softly on the end of the bed. AJ cooed, his lips moving as if he tasted bitter food. Katie didn’t stir. I climbed up behind her, and curled around her. Breathing in her hair, reminding me of the fresh scent of snow, I took a few strands between my fingers and ran them under my nose. Her hair was the color of a haystack, but soft to the touch. Shaky fingers longed to outline her, and my hand came to rest gently on her shoulder. Swiping down her arm, she shivered in her sleep. My palm curled over her elbow and fell to her hip. She spun suddenly.

“Levi?” Her sleep-filled voice was seductive and sweet as she found me behind her. Her blue eyes blinked, focusing in the dimness of the room. “I fell asleep.” Her head shifted on the pillow, spinning back to face AJ. The tension in her body alerted me she intended to sit up. Her hands slipped to the mattress.

“Don’t move,” I whispered, husky and harsh and her head rolled back to face me. I scooted closer to her, pressing fully against her back and tucking my knees behind hers. I looked at AJ over her shoulder.

“He looks so peaceful.”

Her head shifted to face my son again and her fingers reached out to trace over his curled fist.

“He’s so sweet,” she whispered, the tone in her voice full of love and longing. My heart pinched. I had my own achy need.

“Think he can hear me?” I whispered, uncertain where the question came from. Katie nodded.

“He wears the hearing aids.” She paused. “But I think it’s more than that. He senses you. He knows who you are, and you’re here for him. You’d protect him at all cost. You aren’t going to leave.” Her words brought me shame that I’d even suggested giving up my son. I hated myself for having such negative thoughts.

“What more do you need him to hear, right now? He knows your heart beat. He feels the rhythm of your voice. He recognizes your touch.” Her finger lightly traced over his curled fist, and it opened to latch on to her finger.

“What if he never speaks?” I’d asked that question before, another fear in my long list of damage I felt I’d caused my own child.

“Then he’ll learn to sign, and have his own language,” Katie said confidently. “And you’ll learn it as well to communicate with him.” The firmness in her tone sounded very much like Anne. She wasn’t suggesting, she was telling me. I would learn a new language in order to speak with my child.

“Would you teach me?” I nearly choked on the words. Not because I was afraid to learn, but because it was so hard to ask for help. Instantly, I worried she’d reject me. Instead, she spun to look at me over her shoulder.