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That’s the final push I need and the orgasm I’ve been desperate for explodes my body into a million pieces.
***
“Welcome everybody to our first childbirth class. My name is Vanessa Allen and this is my partner and fellow childbirth educator, Eva Davis,” I say looking around at the students. I go on to tell them our qualifications and other details on how to get in touch with us if they have questions after the class. We kick off with introductions from the ten couples who make up our class.
Logan sneaks into my thoughts and I find myself worrying about him. His truck wasn’t outside when I left an hour earlier to drop off Ivy at my sister’s. She’d assured me though that all the firefighters were okay, just working nonstop, which apparently was something that happened when big fires occurred.
I shake off thoughts of Logan. He’s been doing this for a long time and as his tenant, it’s not my job to worry about him.
For the next hour, the class proceeds, and time just rushes by as it does when you’re having fun. When it’s over, some of the couples hang around to chat.
“That went well,” Eva says as we tidy up.
“It did.” We rehash the class and when the room is neat, we sit down to draw up our schedules.
Later, I leave for the day, pleased at how early it is. I make a leisurely grocery run and then go home rather than pick up Lexi as it’s her nap time. I’m going to enjoy running the business if it’s going to leave me as relaxed as I feel. I compare it to the rush of working twelve hours for five days a week and beam.
I park my car and I’m relieved to see Logan’s truck in the driveway. I carry my groceries to the cottage and at the door, I fumble with my key. I push the door and as I step in, I grind to a halt, shell-shocked.
“Oh my God!”
Water. Everywhere. My house resembles a stream with all sorts of things floating on the water. I stare at the mess in mounting horror. I want to cry and lash out in fury. How could this have happened? No faucet was leaking and all of them were tightly turned off. I know this because I have a bit of an obsession with checking faucets before leaving the house. Then another scary thought hits me; Electricity. Water and electricity don’t make the best companions.
I step back, place the groceries outside and run to Logan’s house. I pound on the back door as my mind conjures up visions of the cottage burning to the ground.
The door flies open, and Logan stands there in shorts and a t-shirt. “What is it?” he says. “Is Ivy okay?”
“She’s at my sister’s,” I tell him, touched that his first thought is for my daughter’s safety. “The cottage is full of water. It’s flooded.”
He lets out a stream of curses and without another word, he steps past me and hurries to the cottage. I wait outside as he goes to the side of the cottage to turn off the mains.
The seriousness of the situation hits me, and tears flood my eyes and roll down my cheeks. Our things are ruined. I don’t know how much damage the water has done. All my electricals are probably ruined. Even worse, the cottage will be unlivable for an indefinite period of time. Where will Ivy and I go? I can’t find another house on such short notice. Just when things were falling into place and then this.
Logan returns holding his phone. “The electricity is off, and I’ve called a plumbing company to come and pump out the water. We’ll see what can be salvaged.”
His words break the last vestige of control I have, and I burst out crying.
He quickly comes to me and folds his arms around me. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, I promise,” he says. “Everything in that cottage is replaceable, Vanessa, except for you and Ivy and you’re both fine.”
His words begin to penetrate my brain.
“It’s my fault,” he says. “I probably didn’t do a good job with the sink and I’m really sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I sniff and pull back. “You’re right, though. What matters is that we’re safe. I’ll go and stay with my sister until the cottage is livable again.”
“No, please, this is all my fault and it’s my responsibility as the landlord to provide alternative housing to you,” Logan says. He sees the stubborn look on my face that I’ve been accused of several times. “Please.”
“Okay fine. Where will we stay?” I follow his gaze to his house and understanding dawns. “No, we couldn’t possibly.”
“Do you have any idea how big my house is?” he says.
“Why do you need such a big house?” It’s really none of my business but I need time to think.
