Chasing Stars (18 page)

“Sure. We could take her to Connecticut with us. Maritza would love to have a baby around.”

“Yeah, that would be fun. I will ask Marina,” I say.

“It will be interesting to have a baby around.” He smiles.

“Are you sure it’s OK?” I ask.

“Mmm-hmm,” he says as his lips cover mine. His fingertips probe the bare skin under my shirt, causing me to swoon. Will nuzzles the base of my neck and his breath whispers on my skin. I close my eyes, my head swims and butterflies flap their wings in my stomach.

Oh, the delicious things he can do to me.

Sitting on a blanket surrounded by luscious green grass, I delight in the warmth of the afternoon sun radiating into my skin. I grin while watching Will, lying on his back, holding Chloe in a flying position.

“Wee, who is an airplane?” he coos, lowering her to his face and blowing bubbles on her tummy. Chloe giggles and kicks her feet. Her tiny fingers grab his nose. Will sits up and flashes a smile at me.

“Can we keep her?” he asks.

The thought of sharing a child with Will sends a thrill trough my body. What is wrong with me?

“God, I hope you feel the same in the middle of the night, if she decides she misses her mommy and gives us hell.”

“She would never do that. Isn’t that right, gorgeous?” He looks at her all goo-goo.

I grab a bottle of freshly squeezed lemonade from the basket Estela prepared for our picnic and pour a glass for Will. Handing him the drink, I grab Chloe.

A whiff of her soiled diapers hits me. “Hmm, someone needs to be changed.”

“This is a nice hidden spot, how did you find?” Will’s eyes sweep the area. Sitting on a patch of grass surrounded by tall bushes, we are in a secluded area of Central Park.

“Oh. Well, when I visited with my dad, it got boring at the house, so I wandered through the park. One day I encountered this spot. It became my escape.” I fold the disposable diaper and place it in a trash bag. “A place to dream,” I add mindlessly, but Will immediately caught my longing tone.

“And where is that girl, Portia. The one who dreamed?”

“I don’t know. She grew up, I guess. There is not much use for dreams in real life.”

“I would like to have met her,” he says quietly.

I sigh, “I was a helpless dreamer, Will. And in this place, I could always dream of things I didn’t have. But one day, life happened and coerced me to wake up.”

“What kind of things did you dream, Portia?” his voice a low rumble.

“Impossible, childish things, Will.” Feigning indifference, I shrug.

“Like what?” Will pushes, and something about the intensity in his green eyes leads me to open up, revealing more than I care to share.

“A family.” I grab the warmer containing Chloe’s bottle, and her chubby hands bounce impatiently toward it. I twist the top and slide the rubber nipple into her parted lips.

Content, she wraps her tiny fingers around the bottle, and puckers her lips on the nipple. The humming of her suction fascinates me. I glance up and meet the silent scrutiny of Will’s gaze.

Perhaps, the heady combination from the heat of the sun, the exquisite scent of the baby in my arms, and the intensity of Will’s eyes unravel me because, for sure, something inside me snaps. It’s confusing.

He continues to regard me with his deep stare, and I am at a loss for words. I guess holding a vulnerable being causes one to be a bit vulnerable too, because right about now, I feel raw and exposed to the man in front of me.

“Didn’t I tell you Chloe would sleep like a baby?” I cradle Chloe in my arms. Her lips pucker around the nipple as she sucks the breast milk her mother pumped earlier. Observing Portia, my lips turn into an involuntary smile. It is Sunday, the sun is not yet up, but she is in full gear.

“Bottles, formula, car seat, diapers, extra clothing, and toys. Oh, her blanket, where is it?” Portia panics as her eyes sweep the room.

“Here,” I chuckle, waving the blanket, twisted under Chloe’s grasp.

Strewn baby toys and a portable crib give a different vibe to my space. My canvases, paints, and brushes are pushed into a corner, barricaded by sofas and a childproof gate.

“I think we have everything,” Portia says. But then I notice as she begins to check her mental list. Again.

“Relax, baby, there are stores in Connecticut. If we forget something, we will just buy it.” I smirk. She is so adorable all flustered like this.

“Really?” she frowns. “Yeah, you’re right.” She sighs, clearly relieved.

I hear her phone ringing. It is probably Chloe’s mom.

Chloe sucks the last drop from her bottle. I leap from my bed and hand the baby to Portia, who reassures Marina that Chloe is fine. I grab the car seat and the bags, and bring them to the Jeep I parked in the back earlier.

Whoa, tending to a baby is a lot of work. I smile to myself at the warm thought of Portia holding Chloe. This part of her I had not anticipated.

Focusing on securing straps, I struggle with the car seat until I hear a click that confirms the belt latched. One must have a class before attempting to install a car seat.

Hearing the muted steps of Portia behind me, I turn to take in the sight of her carrying the baby. Call me crazy. But since I met Portia, unnerving ideas rush through my mind along with a surge of feelings that I know neither of us are ready for. When I look at her, it feels as if I have found what I have been looking for my whole life. No, it is not a gut feeling. It is a knowing. Deep down, my quest is over. Does it make any sense? No? But I am too infatuated by the sight of her to analyze it.

Oddly enough, to add to the confusing emotions, flashes of my repeated nightmare invade my thoughts. With a pang of despair, I recall the faceless person vainly pleading for my help, but always dying without my being able to rescue the person. Somehow, the memory unsettles me and an eerie shiver runs through my body.

“Are you OK?” Portia hands me Chloe.

“Yeah, why?” I settle the baby in the car seat and buckle her in. I smile noticing that her lids are heavy. I turn and enlace Portia’s waist.

“I dunno. You looked at me weirdly.” Tilting her head up, she frowns.

A bleak, opaque predawn light gleams in Portia’s face. I don’t know if her incredible body pressed against mine causes the knot inside my stomach, or if it is the racing thoughts in my head. Regardless, I hold Portia tighter.

“I just remembered something. Nothing of significance, though.”

“Anyway, that was Marina checking if Chloe had a good night. There was disappointment mixed with relief when I told her how well Chloe did.” Portia’s proud eyes meet mine. “We make a good team.”

“Yes, we do, baby.” I grin. “Let’s go. We don’t want to be late for the service.”

I swing the door open. She slides in. I kiss her delicious lips, shut the door, and jog to the driver’s side.

The drive is uneventful. Because of Chloe, we skip our usual stop at the beach. Unable to avoid it, I close in on my thoughts and think about the last few weeks with Portia. If she notices, she abstains from commenting. She is too busy dividing her attention between a sleeping Chloe and me.

After church, we meet with Dan and Maritza, who are thrilled to have a baby at home.

“Hi there, son! How do you manage to bring two pretty girls home, at once?” Dan greets me.

“Look who is talking. You have two already, and might have a third on the way.” I nod to Mel’s tummy.

“God, life is hard enough with two, imagine three.” He smirks.

Heading home, I hold Chloe in one arm and hold Portia’s hand in the other as we walk up the hill. Again, strange and unbidden thoughts flood my unrestrained imagination.

“Portia, since this is such a nice day, I thought we should have lunch outside. Would you and Mel set up the patio table?” Maritza asks as we approach the house.

“Oh, sure, I’ll love to,” Portia chirps. Hell, Portia is surprisingly unnerving. She seems to be wheezing with excitement to assist with such a mundane task.

Under the warm breeze, Portia’s cheeks are tinted pink, giving her the appearance of a little girl. From time to time, her eyes meet my gaze and in them, I see the longing and the promises she reserves for when she is staring at me.

Wondering if my grin is too obvious, I lounge on a large, cushioned patio chair. I observe Portia and Mel interacting as they fix the table. When they finish, Mel offers to lend Portia a pair of shorts and they disappear into the house.

A long while later, I glance at my watch, wondering why they are taking so long to simply change a piece of clothing. After what seems like an awfully long time, they are back and I notice a subtle change in Portia’s demeanor, which I am too distracted to dwell on it. My eyes repeatedly flicker to her long, taunting legs exposed by the denim shorts.

My stomach growls and I smile, wondering if lunch is late because Maritza is providing them extra bonding time.

Dan hands Chloe to Mel. “Here, honey, let me go help your mother get the food out.”

“Chloe must be loving all the attention,” Portia says.

“You really like kids, huh?” Mel inquires of Portia.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Portia seems amused at the thought. “Have you picked names yet?”

“Tim and I have used a lot of our allotted time to come to a consensus for a name. He picked Gabriel, if it was a boy,” Mel says with longing in her voice. “But her name will be Ella.” Chloe’s chubby fingers clasp Mel’s honey curls.

“Ella, that’s beautiful. So, you know the gender already?” Portia inquires.

“Well, we haven’t had an ultrasound to confirm, but I know it is going to be a girl.”

“Yeah, I heard some moms can predict the gender,” Portia says.

“Can I feed Chloe? Mom cooked the same baby food she used to feed me. God, she is going to be one overbearing grandma.” She rolls her eyes and laughs.

“Yeah, Ella is a lucky child,” Portia says.

Portia sashays toward me. She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

I am puzzled because I thought they were getting along well. I examine Portia’s face and it reflects an uneasiness that wasn’t there before. She sinks down in the chair next to me and instinctively, I drape my arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer.

“Mel is going to be a great mom,” I remark as we watch Maritza and Mel fussing around Chloe.

“Yeah.” Portia tilts her head up and kisses my lips. Her eyes are a deep shade of unfathomable emotions.

I wonder what they talked about when they disappeared. Whatever it was, it affected Portia because, though she does not look upset, her vibe has intensified. Portia sighs and snuggles on my chest. She embraces my waist as if she is sheltering the two of us against the world.

Portia won’t admit to it, not even to herself, I suppose. But she is eager for Mel’s approval. I talked to Mel and she admitted to trying to irritate Portia. She claimed Portia is untrustworthy, but agreed to give her a chance. Today, Mel seemed to honor her word and made an effort to befriend Portia. The touching part is the thrill it gave Portia, to engage in conversation with Mel. Well, until after Portia went to borrow Mel’s shorts.