His mistaken Identity

Chapter 13

The smell of fried eggs, fresh warm bread, and strong coffee was very hard to ignore no matter how much she still wanted to enjoy the warm, comfortable bed and soft sheets.

As though he too could smell the food calling and wanted some of it, she felt Tony stir next to her and make enough noise to notify his mother he was awake without screaming his lungs out. If Jane wanted to avoid an unpleasant morning involving calming a very upset, energetic small baby, she had to get him now. But gosh, the bed felt so good. After spending so long in places that made her skin crawl just by thinking about them, this was heaven.

The sheets didn’t smell of too much bleach, as though they had been rescued from a bloody crime scene. And the bed didn’t have lumps that dug into her body and made it impossible to be comfortable. Even the pillow had just enough fluff to support her head without straining her neck.

She reluctantly opened one eye and peeked at her son. Tony was already staring at her expectantly. He threw his hands up a little for emphasis. For a baby, he was very smart and determined to get his way.

Jane chuckled, closed her eyes, and buried her face in the pillow with a moan for a few seconds, then she exhaled and sat up to attend to her son.

“Was it the smell of food that woke you up as well?” she asked her son, even though she knew he wouldn’t respond. She had gotten used to these one-sided conversations. Basically, Tony had been the only person there to talk to for months, even before he was born.

He was a great listener. He always smiled while she spoke and made small sounds as though he completely understood what his mother said. His smiles were the best, though. So many times, they had lifted her spirit when she felt dejected and couldn’t go on.

Jane smiled down at him, enjoying their brief moment of warmth and peace when the rest of the world was shut out. “Do you think it’s safe to go to the kitchen again? I hope he is wearing more clothes this morning,” Jane murmured as she changed his diaper. Her cheeks heated when she remembered the small, tight boxers he’d had on last night. She quickly gave herself a mental shake; that was a terrible direction for her thoughts this early in the morning.

“Okay… all clean and dry,” she announced as she picked Tony up off the bed and made for the door. “Let’s go see if your father is more himself this morning and done playing mind games.”

She really hoped he was. Jane couldn’t take any more confusion. She just wanted him to acknowledge what he had done, then she would move on. Wasn’t that what closure was all about? Confronting the painful truth in order to finally leave it all behind? She damn hoped so.

Once she opened the door, she realized the smell of food was even more mouth-watering than she thought. It was either that, or her body was making up for all the many missed meals over the past weeks.

Although hungry, she reluctantly made her way to the kitchen before coming to a stop at the threshold. Enock could cook. She knew this, which bachelor couldn’t? But he had never been that free and relaxed in the kitchen. He had always looked like someone was forcing him at gunpoint to get the job done. Sometimes, it had been a miracle the food was edible.

In contrast to her memory, the man she now watched for a moment without him realizing it, looked like he was very much at home at the stove. There was even an apron tied around his waist. Adding to the strange performance, soft music played from somewhere she couldn’t determine. There were already plates laid out with toast on the kitchen island.

Last night when he cooked for her, Jane had put little thought to it. Besides, she had been weak and very pissed. The fact that the food had tasted great had just been a point minor enough to overlook. Now she watched him work the spatula expertly before he turned around with a pan full of scrambled eggs, ready to dish out onto the waiting plates.

Tony chose that very moment to announce their presence. The little traitor.

Christopher looked up suddenly startled, but thankfully he did not drop the pan or its contents on the floor.

“You should start coughing or something when you get into a room. Maybe even singing if that’s your thing,” he complained.

He lifted the pan a little, so she had a better view of its contents. Yellow fluffy scrambled eggs filled two-thirds of the pan. “I hope you are hungry.”

“I am,” she readily agreed and walked further into the kitchen before she sat down.

Christopher finished serving their breakfast and set a full plate in front of her before grabbing his own and sitting down on the other side.

He looked at Tony in her arms. “And how is the little man this morning?”

Jane looked up and glared. Whatever tentative peace had existed for half a minute evaporated like a drop of water in the scorching desert. “You care?”

“Please, let us not start on such a note,” he begged. “I only asked how he was… I just want to know if you both had a good night’s rest.”

She frowned, then looked down at her plate. “It was fine.”

“Great. That’s all I wanted to know.”

They ate in silence for a while. Christopher barely tasted the eggs or the toast. He only chewed and swallowed for the sake of filling his stomach and nothing else. His mind was preoccupied with the woman across the table and the circumstances that had brought her and her son to his doorstep.

“We need to talk,” he finally said.

“Are you still claiming your loss of memory?” she responded in a bitter tone.

Christopher placed his fork down next to his plate. “I never claimed to have memory loss. There is a misunderstanding here. I am sure of this.”

“Oh, you are sure, are you?” The sarcasm was thick in her voice.

“Clearly a good night of rest has recharged you to full capacity for an argument.”

“Eno… Christopher… Whatever, look, I have known you too long to suddenly fall for this trick you are trying to play.”

Christopher frowned. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you known Enock?”

Jane opened her mouth, then paused, closed it, and frowned. She stared at him a moment, as though trying to determine if he deserved an answer to his question. It took another minute before she spoke. “We met almost three years ago.”

Christopher shook his head. “Three years ago, I was just arriving in this country and trying to establish myself. I had no time to meet young women such as yourself.”

“Arriving from where?” Her tone of voice was as disbelieving as the expression on her face.

“The States where I grew up.”

Her head was already shaking. “You have to be joking. Now you are claiming you are not from this country?”

“No. Hear me out before you shoot. I am from here. I was born here, but I was adopted by my parents who took me to the States. I grew up there and only left after my parents died.”

“Oh wow, what a convenient story”

“It is not a story… I am telling you my life history. I never met you three years ago. In fact, I never met you before yesterday in the parking structure of my office. And before that, I only saw your photo with the threatening letter I had received weeks ago.”

“And I am just supposed to believe that?”

“You can believe whatever you like… It won’t change the facts.” He was beginning to lose patience and his voice rose.

Just then Tony began to cry and quite insistently, for that matter, as though the tension and raised voices disturbed him.

Christopher blinked, a little alarmed. “What’s wrong with him?”

Jane adjusted Tony in her arms. “He’s hungry.”

“Well, feed him then.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do with my son.”

“Clearly,” he deadpanned.

Tony continued to wail. His little face had already turned a darker shade even as his small, round cheeks got wet with tears. He was definitely not a happy baby. And for such a small baby, he had an impressive pair of lungs.

Jane moved him closer to her chest. After a moment of hesitation where she considered returning to the guest room to do this, she pulled up her shirt and exposed her bra and breast to feed her son.

The baby fell instantly silent the moment her n****e entered his mouth. But it did not last long. After a handful of seconds, he was crying again. This time, more upset than before.

“What’s wrong now?” Christopher asked, even as he tried really hard not to look at the soft pale boob on display.

Jane looked very uncomfortable. She didn’t look up at him.

She continued to try to convince Tony to take her n****e, but it seemed her son had no intention of cooperating.

“I don’t have enough milk,” she finally answered with a defeated sigh. “Actually… I think I am not making any right now.”

Christopher knew nothing about breastfeeding, but common sense told him a mother with a small baby should have enough milk to feed her child. “I don’t understand. Aren’t recently pregnant women like milk factories or something?”

Jane glared at him. “It’s not like I told my body to stop producing!”

He looked at the very upset baby in her arms. “Ok… so what now? What will he eat?”

“He needs milk.”

“Which you don’t have.”

“It’s not my fault.”

He sighed and stood up. “I am more concerned about the hungry baby than about throwing around accusations. I have some powdered milk in the house.”

She looked up at him in total disbelief. “He is a two-month-old baby!”

She said it like it was supposed to mean something, but Christopher had no clue what it meant. He shrugged. “I don’t own an encyclopedia on babies… just tell me what he needs.”

“Formula.”

“I don’t have that.”

She snorted. “Of course, you don’t.”

Christopher ignored her response. “I will go out and buy you some. Do you need anything else? Maybe just make a quick list.” He was already looking around the kitchen for some paper she could use.

Jane was dumbfounded by the sincerity and concern in his voice. It seemed he really wanted to help.

By now, Jane was forced to stand up in an attempt to calm her son. Tony didn’t seem to care whether she was standing or sitting, however. He cried and twisted his tiny body in his mother’s arms angrily.

As much as Jane would have loved to tell the man she didn’t need his help, there was no way she was going to make Tony suffer for her pride.

He found a piece of paper and a pen on top of his fridge. Then he expectantly placed them in front of her and waited.

More and more, Christopher’s actions were puzzling her. It was like meeting a totally different man. A man who seemed more patient and willing to help her and her son. Not a man that had faked his death and abandoned her. Even before Enock’s death, he had never shown such a measure of patience.

She released the air in her lungs and tried to remember it was all for her son and she shouldn’t read into anything. She adjusted Tony in her arms and grabbed the pen. “Okay.”