Chapter 8 Sad ...or a bit of joy

Chapter Eight

Several weeks later

Marleen, you have to be here to receive that call," Mike Matheson told her in his rush to head for the hospital where his wife, Racheal, was in labor with their third child. "It's extremely important. I've got several million dollars riding on that phone call. Inform the caller of the event, and say I'll get back with him as soon as my wife has the baby. Also, you have to pick up the kids at eleven-thirty." All this was said on the run as he and Bentley, Racheal's godfather, sprinted toward the elevator.

"How can I wait for your call and get the kids at the same time?" She yelled after their disappearing backs.

"You'll figure a way," Mike called over his shoulder with a grin.

Marleen shook her head and slumped in her chair. She looked about the office trying to decide who should go pick up the Matheson kids. Dozens of people worked there, but she couldn't think of anyone she'd trust them with except herself-but she had to wait for that telephone call.

She picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Nelson, this is Marleen. You have to pick up the Matheson kids from daycare at eleven-thirty." There wasn't a single sound on the other end of the line for several seconds. "Nelson, are you there? Did you hear me?"

"Marleen, I don't recall my job description including serving as a nanny."

"It's just this once. Racheal is having the baby, and Mike had to rush off, and I have to wait for a very important call, and there's no one I trust enough with them except you. You have to help me out, Nelson."

Nelson nodded, relenting, reluctantly. "I suppose I can pitch in under the circumstances. Where and what am I to do with them after I pick them up?" He drawled grudgingly.

Marleen gave him the address of the daycare. "Bring them back to me. I think there are enough people around here to help babysit until Mike gets back."

"Marleen, you're going to owe me for this."

"I expected I might. Just don't be late."

Nelson pulled in the parking lot at the daycare center. At the door, he knocked and waited. No one answered. He tried the doorknob. It turned in his hand so he pushed the door open and stepped inside to the noise and clamor of many children. He came to an abrupt halt, afraid he might step on one of the little people he found suddenly underfoot. He glanced about looking for someone nearly as tall as him. Upon seeing an attendant, he forged his way through the busy little bodies that showed no fear of his long legs and large feet.

"Can I help you, sir?" The voice came from among a group of children.

"Yes, I'm here to pick up the Matheson children." He glanced about the noisy pack, attempting to search out their innocent faces.

"You'll have to see Miss Clara," the attendant said, pointing in the direction of a woman who knelt on the floor next to a little girl.

"Clara, did you say?" he asked, suddenly becoming awe struck as he saw a long blond pony tail dangling down the back of the woman kneeling next to a child.

It couldn't be, he thought, she's a teacher, not a daycare attendant.

Still, his heart rate changed, beating faster and louder. He moved toward the woman, stopping just behind her and listening to her gentle crooning as she pulled a little girl into her arms. Her voice gave off a soothing quality and sounded very familiar. His nerves flooded with a warm excitement as he listened to that silky feminine voice.

"It's okay, sweetie. Don't cry. It'll stop hurting soon. I promise."

Big tears ran out of the little girls eyes and as she hugged Miss Clara tightly the tears dropped onto the folds of the woman's blouse, leaving wet little stains. "Will the boo-boo go away?" cried the child.

"Yes, it'll go away. The Band-Aid will make it better."

The little girl sniffed some more, turning her attention to her Band-Aid to examine it. Then satisfied that her scrape had stopped hurting, she eased toward a group of children who were busy coloring. The woman stood up, watching the little girl choose some crayons from a tub and a coloring sheet, her wound forgotten.

Sensing someone at her back, Clara turned while tucking her blouse in the dark slacks she wore. Her hand froze inside her waistband. At the same time she gasped, her breath suddenly catching in her throat. Remembering her hand in her waistband, she withdrew it and stared in pleasant surprise.

"You!" She blurted stupidly, her unblinking blue eyes stretched large and round, her mouth slightly ajar in surprise.

Nelson had calmed his racing heart during his wait through the soothing of the little girl's tears. With eyes sparkling and dancing, a huge smile crinkled dimples at the corners of his mouth. Having left his Coleet in his car, he stood there, so out of place, with his white shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie loosened and his collar askance, looking like a little boy not quiet able to finish dressing himself. He felt genuinely happy in that moment, and for just a second recalled how Clara felt when he held her snugly in his arms while they danced together. A strange hunger to have her in his arms again tugged at his emotions and he nearly forgot the reason why he was there. He reached up, running his darkly tanned fingers through his blonde hair, a smile flooding with warm surprise.

"Nelson?" It was Clara who finally broke the spell.

"Clara?" He echoed, absorbing her face and all of her with pleasing regard. The same strong attraction he'd felt when he first met her revved up his heart rate like a run-away engine.

While Clara's eyes were still wide in shock, her emotions underwent a metamorphosis, turning first to surprise, then from excitement to pure happiness. Her lips struck up a smile like a spring blossom opening in slow motion. She felt certain she had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. With perfect recall of the night they danced, she could still recall the effect of his strong arms about her, the hard muscle of his chest pressing against her breasts, and the sensuous warmth that exuded from his body to hers. His presence was so strong she was totally captivated by him.

"Clara?" he managed to mutter again after the first awesome wave of astonishment turned to bold fascination. "I can't get over seeing you here."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, with a probing look on her face..

"I was going to ask you that," he said, reaching for her hand subconsciously and taking it between both his as he gazed affectionately upon her lovely face. The gesture was entirely intimate, but seemed so natural and right.

A burst of happy laughter bubbled from Clara's rosy lips. "Isn't it obvious why I'm here? I work here," she replied. He still held her trembling hand, and lest she reveal her raging joy and excited nervousness at seeing him she pulled her hand away.

He looked more handsome and wonderful beneath the bright lights than she remembered. His tan was darker than she recalled, and his hair was like golden corn silk. His strong forearms protruding below his rolled up sleeves were admirably wrought with lithe muscle and sprinkled with a matting of pale blond hairs. He must have been more than six feet tall, and his shoulders blocked everything behind him from where Clara stood.

"I thought you were an elementary school teacher." Now, he wondered if he had sent roses to someone with the same name as Clara.

"I was until I came to work here," Clara replied with a slight nonchalant shrug.

Nelson started to ask her to explain, but fearing she would desert him to duty as a little girl tugged at her slacks, he jumped to another more important point. "Why did you run away from me that night we met, Clara?" he asked.

Clara lowered her eyes, seeing his slender belted waist, a flat abdomen and slim hips. But it was his arms her eyes returned to. Veins stood out like thick cords and each slight movement created a ripple through bulging, hard muscle. She had the strongest urge to touch his arm, to feel the soft blond hairs sprinkled there and the muscle beneath her fingers. His physique affected her like a heady wine that sent her senses reeling. "I had to leave," she answered evasively.

The little Matheson girl caught sight of him and pushing her way through the other children, wrapped her arms about his leg. Startled, he glanced down sharply, smiled, and placed his hand on the little girl's head. "I've been spotted," he said before answering her question. "I guess we need to continue this discussion another time."

"Do you know Joanna?" Clara asked, seeing how the little girl clung to him.

"Yes, I'm here to pick her and Jason up. Their mother is having the baby." He said this last more quietly so Joanna couldn't hear. "Quite honestly, when I saw you I forgot my reason for being here. I thought I'd never see you again."

Nelson patted Joanna on the head. She suddenly scooted away when she saw something more interesting across the room.

Clara smiled, feeling the blood crawl to her cheeks at his statement. She turned her head away for a moment, glancing at the children who played noisily with the toys on the floor. "I thought the same thing about you," she said shyly.

Nelson looked at her questionably. "Did you not receive a message from me at your school?"

Clara looked at him, puzzled, and shook her head. "I received roses, but there wasn't a message."

"I called you and left a message. Since you never called I thought you weren't interested."

Clara felt the heat in her face. "I didn't receive it. Sometimes the school secretary forgets to put those messages in the teachers' mailboxes."

"I went back to that lounge several times hoping to see you there. I suppose you don't frequent the place much?"

"No, I've only been there that once. My friends invite me out occasionally and I go where they invite me. I don't see a great deal of them since I quit teaching."

Nelson glanced about the large room. "So when did you make the switch?"

"I took over the daycare about two months ago." Noticing a child tugging on her slacks, Clara bent down and touched her shoulder. "Cindy, what do you want?" she asked softly, taking a tissue from her pocket and wiping away a flood of tears that spilled down the child's cheeks.

"Timmy took my car."

"Well, there are other cars. Let's see if we can find another. What color do you like?"

"I like green, and Timmy took the green one."

Clara glanced at Nelson and with a tiny shrug and smile went to find the child a green car. She dug through a basket and pulled out a green one, handed it to the child who stopped crying immediately and started playing with her green car, all the while surreptitiously watching Timmy with the other green car. All at once she reached out and grabbed the car from Timmy's unsuspecting hand, threw her car to him, then scooted away to a place by herself.

"That's just like a woman," Nelson chuckled.

"That's a sexist view," Clara said, smiling. "Timmy took her car first."

Nelson was looking at the little girl with a smirk on his face. She was ditching the car in favor of a doll. "Did I make my point?" he laughed good-naturedly while Clara watched, too.

Clara laughed with him, and blushed when he reached over and brushed a smudge from her cheek.

"Would you have called me if you had received my note?" Nelson asked, turning the conversation back to them.

Clara smiled, a bit timidly and thoughtful. "I'm a very busy person, Nelson, and don't have much time for dating."

"That still doesn't answer my question," he persisted.

"If I say no, it's not what you want to hear, and if I say yes, you'll wonder if you prompted the answer from me."

"Clara..."

"Okay, have it your way. Yes, I probably would have called you. The roses were beautiful, by the way. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now that we've got that out of the way, when can I see you?" He looked around at the busy little bodies. "Away from here, I mean."

Clara suddenly became nervous, realizing her situation had not changed that much. She had no one to stay with her parents while she went on a date. She could feel her hands trembling. "I... I don't know." Then before he could say more, she added, "I have to let the children wash up for lunch."

She turned her back on him, knowing she couldn't afford to get involved with Nelson. It saddened her and she hoped he would leave.

She instructed the children to put the toys away and form two lines so they could wash up. They quickly complied and she stood by the sink helping each of them while the attendant took the other line in the bathroom off the back hallway near the playground exit door.

Seeing that he wasn't prepared to leave yet, Clara handed Nelson a pack of paper towels, and he passed out paper towels for the children to dry their hands.

Nelson watched Clara appreciatively as she interacted with the kids, totally at home with them. She was just what his grandmother would consider good william stock. She had all the qualifications for helping him produce a suitable william heir. A sense of destiny in progress began unfolding. The trust fund moved into closer range of becoming his. He had met someone worthy to wear the william name and bear his children.

The hand washing went orderly and quickly, considering there were so many children of varying ages from two year olds to five year olds. All seemed to know exactly what to do, and when their hands were washed and dried they sat in little chairs at low tables. When all were sitting, Clara, Mavis, Helene, and a younger girl named Dolly, took lunch pails and brown bags from cubbyholes with the children's names on them and passed them out.

Clara observed Nelson from the corner of her eye, wondering if he intended to leave anytime soon. She found it hard to concentrate on her tasks with him watching everything she did. It was a pleasant feeling, though, and her nerves flooded with a warm glow that mellowed all though her.

"You've got this down to a science," Nelson commented on the efficiency with which they got the children served in a matter of minutes. He and Clara watched the aides open up thermos bottles and pour the contents into thermos cups.

The Matheson children had taken a position next to Nelson, observing the lunch scene. Joanna's small arms wrapped possessively around one of Nelson's long legs.

"Uncle Nelson, I'm hungry," Joanna said, her head tilted far back as she looked up at him, her big eyes brimming with tears. Racheal always picked them up before lunch, and this was their first time being present while the children ate.

"Why can't we eat, too?" Jason asked, looking nearly as left out as Joanna did.

Nelson had no idea what to tell them. He shrugged his shoulders at Clara who smiled and went to the kitchen. She was back in a minute with cookies and two cartons of milk. Making room at one of the tables, the children joined the group and happily enjoyed their cookies and milk.

Nelson couldn't keep his eyes off Clara. She was pleasant, friendly, and the children were as drawn to her as he was. In the short while he had been there, he felt complete familiarity with her as if he'd known her always. She fascinated and intrigued him with her gorgeous figure, beautiful face, and easy manner with the children. She was shy, too. Her face blushed every time he looked at her, suggesting an innocence which heated his blood.

When the Matheson children finished their milk and cookies, Nelson turned to Clara. "I have to leave now, but you're not going to get away from me so easily next time. What time do you close up shop?"

"The last parents come around six," she answered quickly without considering the implication of his asking.

"Then I'll be here at six sharp and we'll go somewhere we can talk and have dinner."

Clara experienced rising panic. Her parents were in the employee lounge waiting for their lunch, which Clara still had to heat in the microwave. Then at six she'd have to take them home and give them dinner after she closed the day-care. "I can't, Nelson. I really can't." It sounded almost like an apology, and maybe it was-to herself.

"Just give me one good reason?" he asked, following her into the small kitchen, watching as she took two wrapped containers from the refrigerator and placed them in the microwave.

"My schedule is very busy. I have no time to spare for anything."

"Ahh come on, Clara, do you expect me to believe that? Surely you allot time for yourself?"

"But you don't understand," she muttered despairingly, feeling the weight of responsibility and pressure crowding in upon her, similar to being backed into a corner with no escape.

"Then you can explain it to me this evening. I'll be back at six, Clara, and I won't take no for an answer."

Taking a desperate breath, she blurted out, "Make it seven then," thinking all at once that she shouldn't do this, but feeling a voluntary surge of gladness that she had accepted his invitation. She reasoned with herself that a simple date could not hurt, not just one.

As the microwave beeped, and she took the heated dinners out, Clara felt a moment of pure exhilaration at Nelson's nearness. He was so tall and strong and handsome.

He glanced behind him and seeing they were unobserved at the moment, he touched a quick kiss to her cheek. "I'll see you at seven, Clara," he said turning to go, his easy smile polished and gleaming. He picked up Joanna, and took Jason's hand and headed toward the door, glancing back once over his shoulder, while Clara stood watching them leave.

She hadn't felt such lighthearted joy since the time she first met Nelson.