Chapter 2 Wife By Benefits

Chapter One

OLIVIA'S WEAK CRIES stirred Nathaniel from his light sleep. He blinked a couple of times and rubbed a hand down his weary face. The midnight feedings were the worst, especially those on Friday nights.

Life has fallen into a dismal pattern since Natasha's funeral. He'd never worked harder in his life than in the past two months. Keeping up with the kids and the house and his job left room for little else. The demands seemed endless.

Nathaniel's family had pitched in, helping in every way they could. Between his mother and sisters, he was making it. But the awareness of appearing like he was dependent on them made things uncomfortable for him.

Olivia screamed again through the monitor, and Nathaniel tossed aside the cover and sat on the edge of the king-size bed. Blindly, he searched with his feet for his slippers before he stood and slipped on his night robe, tying the knot around.

His daughter Olivia slept a room away from him to make his work easier. He reached for her, gently placing his infant daughter over his shoulder.

"Just a minute, sweetie," he said, walking in a circle around the room, searching for a diaper in one of the wardrobes.

All thanks to Samantha, Natasha's younger sister who came every day to help with the kids' laundry and meals. Her helping hands made things a little easier for Nathaniel. But the idea of her help didn't sit well with him and his beliefs.

He could still remember Samantha's reaction at the news of her sister's death. She left California for Arizona five years ago. At the news of her sister's death, Samantha moved back to California. Her rage for him increased at not receiving the news of her sister's accident. She still blamed him for not letting him see her breathing face for the last time before her death.

But her continuous help was sincerely appreciated. Not that Nathaniel would openly say so; that would only boost her ego.

Settling down with Olivia on the swing in his balcony, Nathaniel carefully placed the rubber nipple on her lips. The baby's tiny lips parted and sucked hungrily.

His hands brushed the soft blond wisps of hair from her sweet face. Her resemblance to Natasha haunted him every day.

He sat staring at nothing as he gently swung on the swing, not wanting to startle the little child as she sucked the contents of the bottle.

Once Olivia had finished the bottle, Nathaniel placed her over his shoulder and tenderly rubbed her back. Gently rocking back and forth, he closed his eyes. He'd rest just for a moment--he promised himself.

Just for a little moment.

SAMANTHA LET HERSELF into the quiet house that had once been a noisy, joyful one only to find her brother-in-law asleep on the swing, his arms gently cradling Olivia's little frame.

She hesitated, not wanting to disturb him in his sleep. He looked so tired in the past few months she'd been here. They both were.

Too tired to grieve, too tired to cry out.

Even after months of knowing of her sister's death, Samantha still had trouble accepting the permanence of the situation. The thought of no going back, no rectifying the mistake of leaving that particular night. Natasha's death left a deep hole of pain on everyone's heart.

Samantha never planned on staying behind and helping Nathaniel with the children in California. Her plan was that after the funeral, she would purchase the earliest flight back to Arizona, burning with anger at Nathaniel for his lack of information concerning her sister's deadly situation, but she was unable to.

The night before she was to leave, a dream stopped her from doing so. She never told anyone about it. That dream was her reason for staying.

The dream haunted Samantha for months. She'd kept her promise to Natasha and was doing everything she possibly could to help Nathaniel with the children, even if he didn't deserve it. But the gesture seemed too little.

To his credit, Nathaniel was holding up well. He was such a good father, once was a good husband too. But frankly, Samantha wondered just how much longer would he be able to continue under the strain. He'd been the strong one, reassuring her, reassuring his children, his parents, and everyone else. Strong and capable.

Samantha didn't know how he did it. But she was grateful. His confidence was the glue that held everything together. Not that she would tell him so; his pride was already larger than the whole house. It was better to keep it to herself to avoid it from getting any bigger.

"Mommy?" three-year-old Kenneth came out from the bedroom, sleepily rubbing his eyes as he placed his thumb in his mouth.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Samantha said, automatically lifting the warm cuddly body into her arms.

"I want my mommy," Kenneth's arms tightly gripped her as he buried his face in Samantha's neck.

"I know," her heart pinched at his words.

"When will she be home?"

"Your mommy's in heaven now, remember?"

Unexpected tears filled Samantha's eyes. "She won't....don't you remember what your daddy said?"

"But I want her."

"I do too." It was difficult to make Kenneth understand. She was having difficulty understanding it herself. And it didn't seem to be getting any easier.

If death had to steal a life, then it should have been her that the Grim Reaper had sought. Natasha had a responsibility, a husband and children.

Her sister had been gentle and sweet, full of energy and life. Everything about her screamed joy. Samantha was the complete opposite. She was a plain brunette with brown eyes, crooked nose and thin lips. Natasha was 5'9 inches in height; couldn't be compared with her 5'3.

Natasha was her only family after their parents abandoned them in an orphanage. They both swore to never search for them ever in their lives. Now Natasha's heartbroken children were Samantha's only family left.

"Are you hungry?" Samantha asked Kenneth, turning the conversation away from the painful subject of Natasha.

Kenneth's head was buried in her shoulder. He sniffed and nodded. "Can you make mommy's special banana pancake?"

"Ehm..." Samantha hesitated. She didn't have a clue on how to make such flavor. "Okay, but you have to tell me how."

"Sure," Kenneth brightened a little. "First you put the flour then banana, mix and fry."

"Ah..." once again Samantha hesitated. She was going to need more instructions than that. Natasha had an active imagination; she could make the lamest situation into a funny one.

Using both hands, Kenneth scooted up the kitchen chair, then curled up into a ball on the seat holding onto Mr. Dess, his teddy bear.

"Samantha you're here," Nathaniel stood in the kitchen doorway with Olivia still sleeping soundly in his arms.

"Aunty Samantha is making mommy's banana pancake recipe," Kenneth explained cheerfully.

"You are?" Nathaniel raised his left brow up in surprise.

"Yeah, I am but I need help on how to make it," she muttered under her breath.

"It's the same as making pancakes, only there is banana flour added to it. It's at the top of the cupboard behind you at your right," he spoke between

yawns as he pressed his hands to his mouth to suppress his loud yawn.

"Thank you."

"Why are you here?"

Samantha glanced at him briefly then began her task of making the pancake. "I came to help and at the same time to discuss an important matter with you."

Not liking where the conversation was heading, Nathaniel frowned before moving over to the refrigerator, taking a carton of milk and drinking it directly from the carton.

Samantha resisted the urge to scold him for his action. She resumed stirring the flour together with the ingredients needed for it.

"What could that be?"

"Once I'm done with cooking I'll tell you."

Dropping the topic for the meantime she made the pancake, serving it to Kenneth. Nathaniel seemed busy calming a fuzzy Olivia who had woken up from her sleep.

"I'll heat up her bottle," she offered to cut off his disapproval courtesy of his pride and independent ways.

Nathaniel looked haggard. She'd purposely dropped by early so he could have a portion of the day to himself. The guy was running himself ragged. They all were. But for Samantha, there was an escape. At the end of the day, she returned to her own apartment, free from the demands of the two small, needy children. A place of her own where she could find a few moments' peace and serenity. Nathaniel had no such deliverance.

After finishing their meal, Kenneth went back to his room, while Samantha took on the plates for washing leaving Nathaniel tucking the baby to bed.

Placing the plates in the sink, Samantha went down to the task of washing the dishes.

"You're ruining your social life," Nathaniel spoke behind her resting his back on the wall.

"I'm not. There isn't a social life to begin with," Samantha replied still washing the plates, with her focus half on it while the other was on Nathaniel.

"You should have gone out last night."

"I wasn't in the mood." She placed the dishes on the rack as she turned to stare at him.

"Samantha please don't. I already feel guilty knowing what this is doing to my parents," he said, his eyes holding hers captive. "Please don't sacrifice yourself for me too."

"It's not for you," she countered smoothly. "It's for Kenneth and Olivia. And it isn't a sacrifice. If the situation was reversed, Natasha wouldn't think twice about doing the same for me. It's what she expected."

Nathaniel closed his eyes and nodded, his face grim. "I don't feel good about this." Samantha knew it went against Nathaniel's pride to rely on his family or anyone else so heavily. He didn't have any choice, but he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"I have come up with a decision." At her comment, Nathaniel's eyes snapped open. "I've decided to move in with you and the kids."