Two hours later, Christophe arrived by seaplane.
“Marley, my gorgeous goddess.” His passionate kiss prompted a long, low whistle from the pilot who was readying for his next flight. “He’s jealous.” Christophe winked and slung his bag over his shoulder. “Oh, you know what we should do this weekend?”
The man launched into his list of suggestions as we strolled toward the SeaBus terminal. “I heard that—”
A shriek split the air, a small boy who looked barely two bursting into one of those screams that developed into a full-blown tantrum, complete with stomping feet and a full body sprawl across the sidewalk. “Hungry, Mommy!”
“Shh, buddy.” The woman jiggled a stroller as the occupant’s tiny whimpers escalated into a full-on wail. She ducked her head, her face reddening at the blatant stares coming from all directions. “We’ll be home soon. Please, get up, or we’ll miss the SeaBus.”
“Oh, man.” Christophe rolled his eyes. “Keep it under control, lady.”
I smacked his arm. “Have some compassion.”
The young mother struggled to lift the screeching toddler to his feet while peering over the canopy at the baby, continually shooting anxious glances toward the boat that was less than five minutes from docking.
“Maybe she should keep them home.”
I heaved a sigh and pulled free of his grasp, heading toward the unfolding chaos. “Hi, I’m Amara,” I said as I approached. “I work at the hospital in North Van.”
“Sorry, sorry, it’s just that …”
“Don’t apologize. Managing two little people is challenging. Can I help?”
She stared at me wide eyed, her head bobbing slightly. “It’s been the worst day. We missed lunch and nap time.”
“Can I?” I motioned to the stroller, waiting for her nod before I lifted the screaming baby, draping her blanket over my shoulder before cradling the tiny girl against my chest. “Shush, darling. It’s okay.” I rocked, adding a tiny bounce as I rubbed her back.
The woman, keeping her eye on me, retrieved a granola bar from her overflowing bag and crouched beside the boy, offering him a chunk as the baby’s cries turned to hiccupping sobs. “We’ll miss the boat, buddy. Can you get up?”
The boy frowned and folded his arms across his chest, but then reached for the offered snack.
“Up. Let’s go.” His mother wrangled him to his feet, brushing dust from his pants. “Ugh, meltdowns. They’re the worst.”
“They sure are.”
“How many kids do you have?”
“None,” I said, shrugging, “but I love them. One day soon, I hope.” I motioned to the terminal. “We’re headed your way.”
The woman’s shoulders sagged as she took charge of the stroller and her red-faced boy, tugging his hand to set him in motion. “You’re an angel,” she said as we walked toward the terminal as the loaded water taxi pulled away from the wharf. “Sorry, you missed your ride.”
“We’ll catch the next one.” I smiled, still cuddling the sweet little baby.
“I’m Laney. I almost lost my mind back there.” She glanced toward Christophe who’d fallen into step beside me.
“How old?” I peeked at the baby in my arms.
“Six weeks.” A smile brightened her features. “Tyler the terror”—she motioned to her son—“turns two next week.”
“You poor thing,” Christophe muttered.
I glared at him before turning to Laney. “Ignore him. What does he know, anyway?”
“Enough.” He winked at me.
“I won’t keep you, but thanks …?” Laney raised her brows.
“Amara.” I transferred her child into her arms. “You have a lovely family.” With a wave at Tyler, I caught Christophe’s hand, and we continued our journey.
“You’re too much,” he said, squeezing my fingers, “but in a good way. I never would have considered stopping.” The man grimaced. “The rugrat left a little something,” he said, flicking my shoulder.
“Oh?” I scrunched my nose at the smear of milky drool, laughing softly as I fished a tissue from my bag. “Wipe it for me?”
“Eww, no. That’s just … yuck. No offence, but you smell a little gross.”
A snicker escaped. “Unsanitary conditions in third world countries and photographing guerrillas are routine, but baby drool is offensive?”
“It’s about my perfect record.” He lifted his chin, a rather proud grin appearing. “I’ve never wiped drool, sopped up baby puke, or changed a nasty diaper. Life. Is. Good.”
“Sounds like you need some practice for the future.”
“Hell no! Have you seen the state of the world? No way will I bring a child into a society that can barely handle the humans already in existence. There are too many orphans and neglected kiddies already.”
My heart sank a little. “What if it happened, though?”
Christophe shrugged. “It never will. It’s been taken care of with a quick snippety-snip. Medical marvel, that.”
A heaviness settled over me. “What about adoption? Taking care of one of those orphaned or neglected kiddies?”
“Who me?” The man shook his head. “I’m a nomad, Marley, and I like it that way. Babies suck the life out of you, demanding all your energy. You and I, we could travel the world, living new adventures every single day. Doesn’t that sound better than diapers, preschools and white picket fences?”
I forced a smile. “You forgot to add the sleepless nights.”
“I did not, because those I enjoy, as long as they don’t involve whining, puking two year olds.”
We paused as the next vessel docked, then we boarded, selecting two seats by the window.
“What’s going on in there?” The man tapped my forehead. “Do I want to know?”
I bit my lip, considering the combined upheaval and excitement of the past six weeks. “We never discuss the future.”
“We are now.” He took my hands in his. “I’m serious, Marley. Anytime you like, join me on a trip. Check out the world. Broaden those horizons.”
“Maybe.” Travelling with Christophe would take me to unimaginable heights, launching me into the ultimate adventure, but was it the one I wanted? Committing to this man meant veering away from my intended path, leaving my
