Page 68 of Aaron's Patience
“She died. Poor thing.”
I looked to Emma. “I knew she died in childbirth. Why’re you showing this to me.”
“There’s more.” Another touch to my forehead and we were now in what I recognized as Thiers’ home. The same one he’d raised Patience in. We were at the doorway of a nursery.
“I’m so sorry,” Thiers cried, standing over a crib.
I glanced down and my heart stopped. Stepping closer, I saw a baby girl in the crib. She couldn’t have been more than a few days old.
“Don’t get too close,” Emma warned, grabbing me by the arm. “Observe from a distance.”
I stepped back just as an older black woman entered the nursery.
“Ms. Ryan, thank you for coming.” Thiers stood, wiping his eyes.
“You’re so welcome. When Jeanette contacted me a few weeks ago to help her nanny I had no idea it would end like this.” The woman shook her head just as cries from the crib began. She picked the baby up. “This little one is hungry.” She patted her back and bounced a little with the baby in her arms. “You want to feed her bottle to her?” Ms. Ryan asked Thiers.
He looked at the bottle in her free hand and started to reach for it but then hesitated. “No, you go on ahead. I-I’ve got some work to do.” He rushed out of the room.
My eyes trailed him as he hurried down the stairs.
“He loved her so much, but the pain of losing his wife…”
My jaw flexed. “That’s why he treated her as he did.” It was a pitiful reason. Patience lost a mother the same day he’d lost a wife.
“Not the only reason.”
Again a palm to my forehead and we were standing in a new location within the blink of an eye. I looked around.
“Buona Sera,” I uttered. We were in the middle of the dining area of the restaurant. “This feels familiar.”
“It should,” Emma spoke over my shoulder, pointing me toward the door as Patience walked in. She was wearing the exact outfit she had on that first night I spent with her. I followed her steps and sure enough, she stopped at the table that held her father and myself. The whole scene played out as I remembered it. I couldn’t take my eyes off her from the moment she arrived. Something happened the first time our eyes clashed. A warning. A signal. Love. I don’t know but it was there from the first instant.
“You two were so cute,” Emma gushed. “Oh, pay attention. Not to Patience,” she insisted as I watched Patience as she headed in the direction of the restroom. “To Thiers.” Emma turned my head back to the table.
Thiers and I had both risen. The younger version of me looked down at the wallet I’d dug out of my pocket. But from my present angle I watched as Thiers’ eyes grew wide as he stared out the window. I pivoted my gaze out the window and saw a man standing in front of a dark Lincoln. It looked similar to my town car but wasn’t mine. The man shifted, putting his hand in his pocket, moving his jacket aside just enough that I could make out the butt of a nine millimeter. Abruptly, Thiers turned to my younger self, asking if I could tell Patience that he had to leave. He didn’t wait for my response. Instead, he threw a couple of bills on the table and made a beeline for the door.
“What was that?” I asked Emma.
“Thatwas Thiers keeping his daughter away from the ugly part of his life.”
I turned to her.
“Thiers had secrets. He wasn’t successful in business on good merit alone. He dabbled in the underworld. More than dabbled, honestly. But he never wanted Patience to be a part of it. He did his best to keep them separated. So, what to you looked like neglect was his form of protection.”
By the time Emma finished, we were in front of Thiers’ gravesite. His headstone hadn’t been put in yet but it had been marked.
“What was he into?” I questioned, my gaze fixed on the grave.
“All types of things. Gambling, money laundering, weapons sales here and there. As you’d imagine, that involved some pretty unsavory people. People who had no qualms about going after someone’s child if they were crossed.”
“My father–”
“No. Robert had nothing to do with that part of Thiers’ life. Though he knew about it.”
“He kept her away from his business, but that night my father and I went to his home for dinner…”
“That was my doing,” Emma stated with pride.
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