Cynthia Kessler (Toy Obsession Series, Book 1) Page 5

  Flowers. Lots of them. Vibrant and fragrant. A dozen, maybe two. “For me?” I asked, as I entered a room fitted for romance, an oasis of candles, soft music, and dinner.

  “Yes, for you, my dear. All for you.”

  “I still don’t understand any of this. After everything that’s happened since...and now, I’m here, and we both know where this is going.”

  “Let’s not talk about any of that right now. We have dinner, some of your favorites: grilled lamb chops and asparagus, rice pilaf, pinot. Here, let me take those. Have a seat.”

  As he wished, I nestled up to the finely set table while he poured wine into our glasses.

  “Thank you for the roses,” I said before taking a sip. “They are a lovely surprise. And this room, well, you’ve never done anything like this before. We were never about this.”

  Taking his place across from me, he replied, “That’s going to change.”

  “I’m sorry, Asche, but I can’t let this go. I thought you hated me. I mean, after everything that’s happened, I just didn’t expect this. You were so angry with me. Even in class, it’s been like I’m not even there, like you’re looking right through me.”

  He reached across the table for me hands. “I know, and I’m sorry about that. We’ve both done things that we regret. I should not have broken things off like I did. I realize now that my actions caused your actions. Things were complicated at home. I reacted. Do you understand? Can you forgive me?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry, too. It’s just that it drove me crazy when you wouldn’t answer my calls or see me. I felt utterly rebuffed.” It was like I was back in high school while dating Robert Delgado, a relationship, which did not end well. Though my own insecurities lead to our breakup, here again someone had rejected me. And in my mind, it was all the same.

  “Well, that’s over now. We’re both here. We’re together. We have this wonderful dinner, this fine wine. Let’s drink to us, shall we?”

  “To us,” I said then gently clinked my glass against his.

  That evening was about reconnecting through conversation over dinner and dancing. It was about being with him and drowning out the past. We were our only focus. It’s the only thing I’d ever wanted—someone to want me as much as I wanted him. When he held me close, I knew this. When our eyes locked, I knew this. When our lips touched, I knew this. When our bodies commingled, I knew this.

  “It had to be this way.”

  “A jury’s not going to see it that way. The prosecution is going to argue that it was all premeditated, cold and calculated for selfish gains.”

  “But it wasn’t. I swear it wasn’t...I was just trying to protect—”

  “The child?” Cynthia looked startled.

  “Ms. Kessler, did you not think I’d find out?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did he know?”

  “No. I never got a chance to tell him...at least not how you might think.”

  “It doesn’t matter. The prosecution will be trying to establish motive here and say that you were attempting to trap him, that once he learned about the child, he rejected the both of you.”

  “Asche would never have done that.”

  “Then why, Ms. Kessler, what drove you to do the things that you did?”

  “I told you, Dr. Danzell, God told me to do it.”

  “Then explain. Tell me what happened that night. I’m just trying to help you, Cynthia.”

  “Okay, okay. I will. I’ll tell you everything that you need to know, right here, right now.”

  “Thank you. Please proceed.”

  “Well, I’d always believed that there would be a price he’d pay for being a workaholic. And he did...dearly,” she said while sitting across from him. “We had just had one of our rendezvous, it would be our very last. He was on his way home when—call it an act of God...or even the work of the Devil—he was struck by a mild heart attack. He crashed the car into an embankment or tree or something and ended up in a coma. It’s funny, they said there was some brain activity, enough not to declare him brain dead, but he was just there day after day, wasting away. At least, that’s how I saw it in my mind. I mean, I couldn’t go anywhere near him, but imagined him lying waste, unable to use his hands or share his brilliance with others, unable to cultivate young minds.”

  “Go on,” he said while jotting down his notes. He was finally getting somewhere with her, a sign of progress after nearly two days of trying.

  Cynthia got up from the table and walked over to the window, a natural source of light in an otherwise isolated room. She peered out into the world, a world of the civilized, who likely took such liberties for granted because they still had them. As bright rays shone her face, she closed her eyes for a moment to soak in their warmth.

  “Even months after I’d had the baby, it was like this, no change,” she continued, still standing at the window, gazing, arms folded. “I suppose she couldn’t bear to let him go. I, on the other hand, couldn’t bear the thought of him remaining, not like that. So, that’s why it had to be this way. And, yes, it was also about the child, but not in the way that you think. I was trying to protect it.”

  “What do you mean ‘protect it?’ This man was in a coma. What would this child have to fear?”

  She turned away from the pane and faced him before replying, “Everything. The child had everything to fear, especially if we were to continue.”

  Dr. Danzell placed his pencil down and looked her square in the eyes. “I don’t understand. How could you continue anything if he was in a coma, had been for several months now? Was there any chance of him coming back? And if he did, would he come back to you? Being in that state for that length of time has a way of changing people, their whole outlook on things. Do you think that if he were to have awakened, he’d have picked up with you as if the last several months of his life had never happened?”

  “Yes, I do,” she replied.

  “Why? Why do you think that?”

  “Because he wasn’t happy. Everything he told me about wanting to be faithful to her was all a lie. He’d had any number of indiscretions throughout their marriage. He stayed only for the sake of his children. He didn’t want to disappoint them. He loved them.”

  “And what made you different? You said he was unfaithful. Why would he be faithful to you?”

  “He loved me and I loved him. He wanted to be with me.”

  “He told you this?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he never knew about the child. Would he still have loved you if he knew about the child, Ms. Kessler?”

  “Why do you ask such things?”

  “Because I’m trying to understand your motives,” he replied. “I’m trying to understand you and why you did this.”

  “There was nothing good that could or would come of what the professor and I were doing. What felt good to us was only hurting others, so it had to be a sign, him having the heartache and crashing the car and being in a coma. And I made it a point not to ignore it. It was divine intervention, don’t you see? It was the only way it would ever end, the only way to protect this child from us,” she said then paused, “...protect him from our own implosion and keep him safe and me safe...everybody safe.”

  “You keep saying that, but I don’t see the danger. Why did you feel that your child needed to be protected from him, a man in coma?” he asked in cynical tone.

  “See, I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

  “I’m trying, Ms. Kessler. I am trying.”

  “That’s good, though, right?”

  “How is this a good thing that I don’t understand your motives?”

  “Because now even you really do think I’m crazy? And if you think that, you can convince a jury with your testimony.”

  The doctor released a sigh. “I think you need to finish telling me what happened.”

  “Well, the truth is I thought that I could have it all. No one would ever have to know. I’d have a little piece of him in the
child and I’d be giving the professor what I believe he would have wanted, something I was destined to do.”

  “Wait, you believe he wanted this?”

  Cynthia walked over and sat back down across from him. “Yes. He was nothing, but a shell of his former self. He would not have wanted this for himself. And if she truly knew him, she would have known this.”

  “So, that’s why you did it—to save the both of you from yourselves and carry out what you believe he would have wanted?”

  “Yes.”

  Love makes people do strange things,

  But obsession makes them do something even stranger.

  If you end up on the opposite side of the former,

  Count your blessings,

  For the latter leads only to danger...

  It had been three months since she’d given birth to her son, and there still had been little change in the professor’s state while he remained hooked up to machines and gadgets on the family’s hope for a sign, any sign. None had come. In Cynthia’s mind, the time had come for her to carry out what she had set out to do.

  First and foremost, to do it, she needed access, and it came right at the onset of summer break in the form of an ad placed in the Sunday Classifieds, now circled in red: hospital registrar needed, night shift, St. Michael’s Hospital. An impressive interview with Linda Rosenberg and she was in.

  She had been working there a little over two weeks now and had become quite acquainted with Pearl, the other lady on duty, and Freddy, a senior night custodian.

  “So, how’s little man doing?” Cynthia had just come back from break after checking in on him in the private hospital nursery.

  “Oh, he’s fine,” she said, smiling. “Sleeping like a champ, Pearl.”

  The older woman smiled back before taking a sip from her coffee mug. “It’s a shame you don’t have anyone else to keep him during your shift.”

  “Yeah, I know. All I ever had was my mother, and she passed away a little over a year ago of a brain tumor. She would have loved him. I never knew my father, so I’m pretty much all he’s got.”

  “What about the child’s father?” Pearl asked before taking another sip afterwards.

  “He’s not in his life.”

  “That’s too bad. A young girl like you shouldn’t have to raise a child alone. What’s his name again?”

  “Asher. His name is Asher.” Though Pearl was unaware, the child’s father was never far from Cynthia’s mind. This was even evident in the child’s namesake, for it was chosen in likeness to his father’s first name, Asche.

  “That’s right, Little Asher...such a cutie pie. I remember when my own were that small. Now, they are grown with children of their own.” Pearl was in her mid-sixties, a bit of a talker, and never shy about sharing family stories with her younger co-worker to whom she took a liking almost immediately. And while she had been with the hospital nearly twenty years now and had seen her share of folks come and go, she didn’t appear to be slowing down anytime soon.

  “Have you seen Freddy around?” asked Cynthia. The two had become chummy for reasons only apparent to Cynthia since she had only one truth objective for being there in the first place.

  “Yeah, he came by looking for you during your break. Said he had something to show you. I suspect that he’ll be back around, sweetie. I think he’s sweet on you,” she snickered. It wasn’t at all funny to Cynthia. The last thing she needed was a grungy old man with a baby doll complex. She befriended Freddy for one reason only: he had access to locked doors. Still, she was prepared to do whatever was required to get what she needed, even if that meant promising to do things that men like him would only dream.

  “Okay, thanks. I’m sure I’ll run into him.”

  Pearl winked. “Yes, I’m sure you will.”

  What did Freddy want to show her? Cynthia pondered this while glaring at an idle computer monitor, the hospital logo bouncing about its nineteen-inch screen. Freddy was a bit of loner, never married. When his only son was killed years ago in a car wreck, depression set in and he took on the life of a hermit, rarely leaving his home. It was only after he finally realized that he was wasting his life away that he joined the St. Michael’s staff. Never once late in nearly fifteen years.

  “Hola, bonita, ¿cómo estás?” said the familiar voice coming from behind her. Freddy loved speaking Spanish with Cynthia, something he’d picked up while stationed in Cuba during his military days as a medical emergency technician. And it was one of the few things the two of them had in common.

  Cynthia turned away from her monitor toward him. “Estoy bien. ¿Dónde has estado? He estado buscando para usted.”

  “Well, I’m here now, Ms. Cynthia. Did blabbermouth tell you that I was looking for you, too?”

  “Yeap. Said you had something to show me.”

  “Where is she, by the way?”

  “Oh, she’s on her break. I told her to check on Asher while she’s gone. She’ll be back in a while.”

  Truth be told, Freddy wasn’t some creepy old man chasing skirts, though he was much older than she. In fact, he had always been respectable. If he did fancy her, he never once showed it. He was just a friendly guy who did his job and brought a bit of sunshine into her life during her shifts. It was rather a shame she’d use him in her schemes.

  Pearl, on the other hand, was indeed a blabbermouth. She’d just love a scandal, even if it existed only in her overactive imagination.

  “Guess I’ll show her later then. Anyway, here, take a look at this.” Her salt-and-pepper-topped colleague whipped out his cell phone and pulled up a photo of a sail boat.

  “That’s beautiful, Freddy. Did you just get that?”

  “Well, it’s been a project of mine. You should have seen it a few years ago. She’s my baby,” he said while admiring the image on screen.

  “Does she have a name?”

  “Yeap. I call her Sally Girl.”

  “Let me guess, Sally was the girl that got away, right?”

  “No, actually, she was my mother.”

  “And everybody loves his mother.”

  “Yeap,” he said, winking. “So, you said you were looking for me, too. What’s up? What do you need?”

  “Listen, Freddy, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I know you don’t have any family here. So, I was thinking that maybe you’d like to come over for Sunday dinner? What do you say?”

  Tears welling in the corners of his eyes softened his entire countenance. “Wow, Ms. Cynthia. I’m touched, I really am. I mean, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll come.”

  “Yes, yes, of course, I’d love to come.”

  Cynthia smiled. “Good, good. Dinner’s at seven.”

  “Okay, seven, it is.”

  Always the strategist, Cynthia figured she’d have better success playing on Freddy’s heartstrings—adopting him as a sort of surrogate father—than trying to seduce him. Yet, even the most well-conceived plans were not always fail-proof.

  Now home, Cynthia contemplated how she might manipulate Freddy to get what she wanted. Naturally, she had to be careful moving ahead with this plan of hers. She was treading on dangerous waters, toying with people’s lives, even the life of her young son. It was he who’d now drawn her attention, as he lay swaddled in her arms, sleeping. It was for Asher that she was doing all of this, she thought to herself, the steady heave of his little chest giving her a mother’s comfort. Although he wasn’t planned, she had so much love for this baby. He was her sweet miracle. She could not regret a thing because he was the result of everything.

  As she held her child, a conversation between she and the professor resurfaced. It was during one of their secret rendezvous. The two of them had been lying in bed, basking in the afterglow, when Cynthia’s own curiosity got the better of her.

  “Do you ever wonder?” she asked, her head nestled on his chest.

  “Wonder about what?”

  “About what it would be like if
these moments, with just the two of us, were our reality?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if I was your wife and you and I had kids together?”

  “You shouldn’t be thinking like that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you are talking about something that can never be. I’m already married, and I can’t leave my family. I won’t do that to my girls.”

  “I’m not asking you to leave your family, Asche. I’m just asking you to fantasize inside this little bubble of ours for a while. Can’t you do that?”

  “I’m sorry, my love. Yes, yes, I can do that. So, you say that we have children. Do our children have names?”

  “Of course, they have names, silly. The boy has a name in your likeness and the girl’s name is Aurora.”

  “I see that you’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I know that you don’t, Asche, but my wish will always be for us to be together and have a family.”

  “My love, don’t you see? Bubbles are meant to be burst, and what is left is what is real. This is all you and I have. That is our reality.”

  As it turned out, fate had other things in store, having granted Cynthia the best part of her wish: their child, Asher. And no matter what happened, this could never be undone.

  Priest, this was my life now. I’d moved out of the dorms and into an apartment to raise my son. When school resumed from break, I’d be going into my senior year. To most, I had what was still seemingly a promising future, but it was my unwillingness to break with these machinations, which lead to my destruction. I had set down this path and I couldn’t turn back.

  CYNTHIA was busy in the kitchen finishing up dinner when she heard a knock at the door. Freddy. The man was never late, but this was one occasion she could have used a bit of extra time. Oh, well, he could keep her company while she put the last-minute touches on everything.