Almost Twins Read online

  They were traveling up the road from which the idiot who was driving the pickup truck that nearly had him killed had appeared. He hoped the driver wasn’t her “Uncle Bob.”

  “We’ll be there in less than an hour.”

  As they started up another incline, he stiffened. The curvy mountain side road they turned onto would have been treacherous at the best of times. In the snow, it was terrifying. Usually he didn’t feel chauvinistic, but he wondered why Adelle was driving this treacherous road with a baby, and why her husband wasn’t driving, instead.

  Rather than engage in meaningless conversation, Dennis kept silent so she could concentrate fully on her driving. He didn’t know how or why, but Raymond had drifted back to sleep not long after they started moving. Dennis was almost jealous of the infant, wishing he could simply close his eyes and not worry about what was happening outside the car. He had no idea where they were, but his ears popped a few times from the changes in altitude as they continued their assent up the mountain road.

  “We’re almost there.”

  She then turned onto a long, steep driveway that was not much more than a path sliced through the trees. His heart nearly stopped a couple of times as they slid, but the car recovered and continued along what Dennis hoped was the middle of the path. When they slipped one more time, he had to remind himself that she had chains on the tires. The thought buoyed his nerves enough that he released his iron grip on the door handle.

  The car slid to a stop in front of a small, rough-hewn, wooden cabin, surrounded by snow-covered pine trees. The lights were out, no smoke came from the chimney, there were no other cars, and the pristine snow surrounding the building suggested no recent activity.

  “We’re here.” Adelle said on an exhaled breath, indicating her relief at their safe arrival. “This is odd. They should have been here by now.”

  She quickly glanced at him, then lowered her head to unbuckle her baby’s car seat while Dennis unbuckled Raymond.

  With the movement, both babies began to cry. Simultaneously, they lifted both car seats out of the car, then Dennis followed her through the snow and into the small dwelling.

  The interior consisted of a large room furnished with long-ago out-of-style furniture and an old black cast iron woodstove in the center. A white fridge, circa 1950s, sat in a corner that served as a rustic kitchen area. On the other side of the room were two doors, leading to a bedroom and a bathroom. The odd combinations of age, wear, and practicality gave the place a uniquely homey feel. In addition to the relief at finally being safe, he instantly felt better when he saw a lime-green rotary dial telephone on the wall.

  They lowered the babies in their car seats to the floor, unbuckled the infants, and both stood in unison, each cradling a crying baby.

  Dennis nearly choked when she handed Rachel to him, leaving him with two fussing babies in his arms.

  “It’s so cold in here. I have to start a fire quickly,” she said as she stripped off her gloves and stomped the snow off her boots. “This will only take a minute.”

  The door of the old woodstove creaked when she unlatched and opened it. She crumpled some newspaper, tossed in some kindling, a few logs, and lit it. Dennis felt warmer just watching the paper catch fire.

  She removed her baby from his arm.

  “How can I heat up a bottle?” he asked, over the squalling.

  She shuffled her baby from her arm to her hip as she walked into the kitchen. She removed a pot out of the bottom cupboard, then set it under the tap.

  “The facilities here are rather limited. We’re on well water and septic tank, and since my aunt and uncle aren’t here, the hot water tank isn’t turned on yet. I’ll pump some water for you, and you’ll have to wait for it to heat up.” She placed the pot of water on the stove, pulled a barbecue lighter out of the drawer, turned the knob for the propane burner, and lit it.

  Dennis swayed back and forth, holding the now-screeching Raymond as comfortably as he could. “I don’t know how to heat a bottle without a microwave. Can’t we do both bottles together?”

  Her cheeks reddened. Instead of making eye contact, she focused on her baby’s head. “Rachel doesn’t take a bottle.”

  “No bottle? But how. . .” Dennis felt his face heat with the realization of what she meant. “Oh,” he mumbled.

  Without further comment, she hurried into the bedroom and shut the door. Rachel stopped crying almost instantly, but Raymond continued to screech in his ear.

  With one hand, Dennis fumbled with the zipper on the diaper bag to remove a bottle of formula. While Raymond screamed, he tried to figure out how to open a bottle with one hand. The words of the public health nurse echoed in his head, instructing him that there was nothing wrong with putting a baby on the floor, as well as her lame joke about a baby never falling off the floor. How he wished that dear woman was with him now.

  Carefully, Dennis lowered the open bottle into the center of the pot of water while Raymond continued to holler in his ear, then he waited.

  And waited. And waited.

  He learned the hard way the true meaning of the cliché, a watched pot never boils.

  Countless times, he dipped one finger into the open bottle to test it. When the formula was at a barely acceptable temperature, he screwed the nipple on and stuck it in Raymond’s gaping mouth.

  Instant quiet filled the room, except for the ringing in his ears. He walked slowly to the couch and sat down on the side closest to the woodstove while Raymond greedily sucked on the bottle.

  The fire slowly heated the surrounding area, but with his clothing wet, even wearing his leather jacket, Dennis was still chilled to the bone. Another shudder wracked his body, and he clenched his teeth and stiffened in an attempt to control the chill. Unfortunately, he couldn’t move until Raymond finished his bottle.

  On Christmas Day, Raymond would be exactly one month old. Dennis wondered how old babies had to be to hold their own bottles.

  A loud burp drifted from the bedroom. The door opened and Adelle walked out with Rachel propped against her. She sat beside him with a happy Rachel cradled in her arms. “When you’re finished you can use the phone over there and call your wife to let her know you’re okay, so she won’t be worried about you and your baby.”

  He smiled down at Raymond, who was still greedily sucking down his formula. “There’s no rush. I’m not married, and Raymond isn’t mine.”

  Two

  Adelle stiffened and she scooted back on the couch. She didn’t know a lot about babies herself, being a relatively new mother, but from the awkward way Dennis held Raymond, it appeared he knew less than she did, which supported his remark about not being the baby’s father. She tried to think of a reason why a single man would be alone on a country road with a baby who wasn’t his and in no rush to contact the parents. She couldn’t think of anything except for a kidnapping.

  She tried to stifle her fear and convince herself that she was being unreasonable. She didn’t know anything about him except that he was stranded and, unless she picked him up, both he and the baby would have frozen to death in the blizzard.

  She wanted to do the Christian thing and give him the benefit of the doubt. He did see to the baby’s needs before his own, and he seemed much too nice to be a kidnapper, but then again, she had never met a kidnapper before. She didn’t know anything about him, including if he was telling the truth about his name. She had thought that Shawn was nice, too, and she had never been more wrong about anything in her life.

  The wind howled outside, reminding her that she needed to go gather some firewood, but now she didn’t want to leave Rachel unattended with him.

  Adelle shook her head and stood. Dennis wasn’t going anywhere. Nor was she. The force of the wind had increased and the snow was coming down harder than ever. The drive to the cabin had been more difficult than she had anticipated and now it would be impossible to get out until the storm abated. Realistically, it would be days, maybe even a week, before they would
be able to dig out.

  The wood in the fire popped, again drawing Adelle’s attention to the fact that there was only one log inside the cabin. With conditions continuing to worsen she would need to gather a large enough supply of wood to last the length of the storm, however long that might be. The longer she waited, the worse it would be and she only wanted to go outside once. In addition to the wood, she also had to bring in the groceries, her suitcase, and the baby supplies from the car before nightfall. Already, the sky had darkened, and it would be pitch black within an hour.

  She laid Rachel down in the car seat and tucked a flannel blanket around her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get everything inside while I still have the chance.”

  He looked down to Raymond and the bottle, which was still half full. “I can do that. It’s okay.”

  Adelle shook her head. “I’m dressed for these conditions, you’re not. Besides, Raymond hasn’t finished his bottle, and I have to do it right away, before the groceries freeze.”

  She slipped her boots back on, fastened her coat, donned her hat, scarf, and gloves, and stepped outside, needing to get away from Dennis so she could think without being too near him.

  The force of the wind made her stagger until she braced herself against it and forged through the knee-high snow. Instead of thinking about her problem, all she could think about was protecting herself from the cold and carrying as much as she could each time.

  The first few trips back and forth from the car to the cabin were the most difficult, but once she created a path for herself as she plowed through the snow, the trek became easier. First she brought in the groceries, which were half of what she and her family would have needed without going back to the city for two weeks. Now, Aunt Min and Uncle Bob weren’t here, and she had a second mouth to feed. While she was in the kitchen, she flipped on the fridge and hot water tank, and went back outside to get everything else.

  The suitcases were easy to carry, but Adelle struggled with the playpen, the only baby accessory she brought. She planned to set it up near the woodstove to provide a safe and warm place for Rachel to sleep.

  After emptying her car, she plowed through the snow to the woodpile stacked against the tool shed. The mountain snow was powder fine, but it had been drifting against the building and had already covered the wood. She worked hard to dig through it and filled her arms with the limit of what she could carry. The snow was now past her knees, making it difficult for Adelle to trudge through as she made a new path back to the cabin carrying the extra weight.

  She didn’t care that she was panting when she reached the door. Her only thoughts focused on how many more trips she had to make. She nudged the door with her foot to open it, just as she had done when unloading the car. But this time, it didn’t budge.

  She squeezed her eyes shut. She had been careful not to fully close the door so that she could get back in easily. The wind must have clicked the latch shut.

  A fresh gust of wind sent a frigid blast beneath her coat and whipped her scarf into her face. Despite the heavy wool coat, Adelle shivered. Rather than drop her armload, she kicked the door a few times and waited.

  Inside, Dennis called out that he was coming. Through the closed door, she heard the old springs of the couch creaking, followed by muffled footsteps. Instead of the door opening, she heard the thunk of a bottle hitting the wood floor, followed by a barely audible “oops,” and the start of baby whimpers.

  The door squeaked open. Adelle shuffled in and pushed it closed with her foot. Dennis stood to the side, struggling to cradle Raymond with one arm. In his free hand, he held the bottle at a most awkward angle.

  “You’re making me feel so guilty. I should be doing that,” he said, then returned to the couch, where he began to lower himself by just bending his knees, not using either hand to support himself, as he was still feeding Raymond. In the process, he lost his balance and flopped down, struggling not to jostle the baby as he landed.

  Adelle stomped the snow off her boots, piled the wood against the wall, and then left the cabin for another load. Again, she left the door slightly ajar and prayed that, this time, it would remain unlatched.

  Fortunately, when she returned, the door was as she left it. The bottle lay on the floor empty. Dennis sat with Raymond in his lap half perched on his knee, but mostly leaning crooked against his chest, and he was diligently patting the baby on the back.

  She’d never seen anyone try to burp a baby like that, but kept her thoughts to herself.

  Along with the burp, Raymond spit up all down the front of Dennis’s shirt. Dennis froze, staring at the smelly white trail oozing down his shirt. His face paled and his chest jerked as he inhaled sharply then held his breath.

  “Let me get something to wipe that with,” Adelle mumbled as she tried to quickly empty the logs from her arms. When he gulped for air, his color worsened. Adelle let the logs drop and ran to the kitchen to find the roll of paper towels. Quickly, she ripped open the plastic wrap, tore off a wad of paper towels, and ran across the room.

  The closer she got, the more rancid the odor became. She arrived in front of him just as he started to gag. She reached for the baby and handed him the paper towels in one motion. In trying to wipe the mess, he only smeared it worse.

  Even more color drained from his face. He looked up, his face white and his teeth chattering. “I think I need some fresh air,” he mumbled.

  In the blink of an eye, he ran out the door, without his jacket. Except for the odd crackle from inside the woodstove all was silent inside the cabin, but outside, over the howl of the wind, she could hear Dennis retching. Between the lingering stench of the baby spit-up and having to listen to what was happening outside, Adelle’s own stomach churned.

  She couldn’t force her feet to move, so she simply stood in one spot, holding Raymond.

  After a few minutes the door burst open. Dennis strode in without a shirt, visibly shaking. Without a word and barely slowing his pace, he grabbed his suitcase and strode into the washroom. The door closed behind him with a bang.

  Rather than stare at the closed door, Adelle lowered Raymond to his car seat and tucked one of Rachel’s flannel blankets around him, then removed her coat and headed to the kitchen.

  Fortunately, he hadn’t dumped the water he used to heat the bottle. Until the hot water tank finished the cycle, it was all the warm water they had. She began to wipe down the counter so she wouldn’t have to set the groceries into the dust that had accumulated since the cabin was last used.

  Dennis emerged from the washroom wearing a sweatshirt and jeans.

  He shivered again, rested his suitcase beside the washroom door, and walked to the woodstove, where he set out his wet sneakers and a pair of socks. He then ran his fingers through his hair and approached Raymond in the car seat, bent as if to pick him up, then halted. Raymond gurgled, but didn’t cry.

  Dennis straightened with his arms empty, looked down at the baby, and rammed his hands into his pockets. He stared for a few seconds out the window, then turned back to her.

  “He seems okay, so I think I’m going to leave him there. I’m not very good at this baby stuff,” he mumbled, staring at a blank spot on the wall.

  For the first time since she picked Dennis up, Adelle had a chance to really look at him.

  He was quite a handsome man, now that his color had returned. She figured he was around thirty years old, and since she’d seen him without a shirt, however briefly, she knew he was trim and reasonably fit. His dark brown hair was slightly wavy, and the color almost perfectly matched the color of his eyes. Together with his long, straight nose and strong eyebrows, the combination gave him quite a regal appearance.

  She couldn’t think of a thing to say.

  “Need some help? I don’t want to stand here doing nothing.”

  Adelle nodded as she began to empty the contents of the grocery bags onto the counter. “I’ve put a bunch of stuff that has to go into the fridge over there.” She pointed t
o the section of counter nearest the fridge. “Can you put it in for me?”

  He picked up a package of frozen meat, and smiled hesitantly at her. Adelle nearly dropped the spaghetti. When he smiled, she wanted to trust him, but logic told her that she knew nothing about him. She didn’t know if she was being an accessory to some crime by having him at the cabin.

  He tucked a few packages of frozen food into the freezer. “This seems so strange. The freezer motor is still running, but it’s colder outside than it is in there.”

  Adelle forced herself to nod and concentrated intently on stacking the canned goods before she loaded them into the cupboard. “I just turned the fridge on a few minutes ago. I thought of putting the frozen stuff outside, but I worried that it wouldn’t be too long and I’d never find anything again. It’s snowing even heavier than it was an hour ago.” She also thought of his soiled shirt, which he’d discarded outside, and wondered what her aunt and uncle would think when they found a man’s shirt in the yard when the spring thaw came. Especially if, by that time, she was dead by mysterious causes.

  “Do you have a radio? Maybe they’ll have some kind of idea how long this will last.”

  She crossed the room to the corner designated for the living room and turned on the radio, which was the only form of entertainment available besides the portable CD player she had brought.

  Before she returned to the kitchen, Adelle parted the curtain and looked out the window. The night was pitch black, with no moon or stars visible through the heavy storm clouds or blowing snow. The force of the wind had increased again, and every once in a while a branch hit the cabin’s outer walls. “It’s getting worse,” she muttered to herself more than to Dennis, who was still on the other side of the room, in the kitchen.