She's My Baby
Still concerned about the crying baby, he followed. “Who’s Sam?” he asked.
“My soon-to-be-deceased sister.” She entered the house. “Okay, little baby,” she cooed awkwardly. “You can stop crying now. Everything is going to be all right…I hope.”
Garrick frowned. “Ma’am. Is everything all right? Do you need me to call someone for you?”
“Call someone. That’s a good idea. I can call someone to come and help me with…uh—this baby.” She stopped in the foyer and then squeezed the large bassinette onto a slim table. “But who? Everyone is gone for the holidays.”
The baby wailed at full volume.
“Okay. Okay. I can do this,” she affirmed and reached for the baby.
Garrick still didn’t know what to make of any of this.
The baby, dressed in all pink, flailed tiny hands and feet as the screaming continued.
Dumbfounded, Garrick eyed the bizarre woman as she held the child away from her body as if the child were a stick of dynamite. “Have you ever held a baby before?”
“Uh, yeah—but never when one was crying like this. I think something is wrong with it.”
It? “I take it this is not your child?”
“Good heavens, no.” Her face twisted. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she assured the child.
Garrick wasn’t too sure about that and apparently neither was the baby—if the screaming was any indication.
“Why won’t it stop crying?” the lady asked in obvious distress.
It again. “First, I’m guessing by all the pink that it’s a girl,” he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Second, I’m thinking you would want to hold her a little closer to your body if you’re trying to comfort her.”
The lady looked as if he’d told her to jump off a cliff; but in the next second, she was bobbing her head in agreement. “Okay, okay. I can do that.”
She nearly did, too—until an unmistakable sound alerted them that the baby had just unloaded half her body weight into her diaper.
“Oh-my-God,” the woman croaked, stretching her arms farther out from her body. “Did you hear that?”
The corners of Garrick’s lips twitched into a smile. “Yeah, I heard.” He reached for the baby. This wasn’t exactly the kind of emergency he’d had in mind when he’d bolted over here, but it was a job that still needed to be done.
Garrick nestled the little girl in the crook of his arm. As he swayed back and forth, the baby quieted down. “That’s a good girl,” he cooed, smiling down at the chubby-cheeked baby. She was actually adorable with her nest of curly hair and sweet brown eyes. Still, he couldn’t imagine who was insane enough to leave their baby with this woman.
“How did you do that?” his neighbor asked, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
“I’ve been told I’m a natural with babies and animals,” he boasted proudly.
“You’re a godsend.”
The woman raked her fingers through her hair—something she should stop doing, he noted.
“Yeah, well, I guess if you just get us a new diaper, I can help you change her and get out of your hair.” He didn’t mean to mention her hair, but it had a way of drawing the eye.
She blinked. “A diaper?”
“You do have diapers, right?”
“Uh.” She turned back toward the bassinette and searched inside it, but the only thing she pulled out was a thin envelope.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“It’s from Sam,” she said with a note of dread, and then lifted her large, sad brown eyes up at him. “It could only mean bad news.”
Chapter 3
On the porch of her Sea Symphony Villa, Roslyn stared out at Barbados’s powdery white sand, turquoise sea, cerulean sky and wanted to pinch herself. Everything was postcard perfect—and yet she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back home.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Patrick eased his arms around her waist and nibbled on her exposed shoulder.
Though his lips were pleasure, they failed to draw Roslyn from her troubled thoughts. “I was thinking about Samantha,” she answered honestly.
Her husband groaned and laid his head against her shoulder. “This is supposed to be our vacation.”
“It is.” Roslyn turned in his arms and fluttered a smile at him. “I was just hoping everything is okay, you know? This time of year is always hard for her.”
Patrick nodded, but his gaze inspected her. “This time of year is also hard on you…and Leila.”
Instant tears welled in Roslyn’s eyes and she lowered her gaze to stare at the span of his broad chest.
Gently, he lifted her head again so their eyes met. “All I’m saying is…you can’t fix your sister. Everyone has demons to fight. Samantha is going to have to fight her own.”
“It’s not that easy.” Roslyn pushed out of his arms and shook her head. “Samantha isn’t strong. She’s not like Leila—who can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’. And she’s not like me.” She took Patrick’s hand. “I have an incredible man who I can lean on and who can pick up the pieces when I fall apart.”
Patrick bowed his head.
“I know you’ve never cared for my baby sister.”
His head jerked up again. “That’s not true.” He hedged as he selected his next words. “I just don’t like how she emotionally blackmails you…or anyone who tries to get too close.”
“And what if Ms. Friedman is right? What if she has had a baby? Do you think that she’s emotionally stable to raise a child?”
“We don’t know—”
“Hypothetically?”
Patrick drew a deep breath and gave the questions careful consideration. “I honestly don’t know.”
Roslyn nodded and returned to his arms. “Neither do I.”
“Your sister abandoned her baby?” Garrick asked, mentally snapping pieces of the puzzle together.
“Looks that way.” Leila ripped open the thin envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter. “Dear Leila, I’m sorry.” She stopped and closed her eyes to pray for strength.
“Is that all it says?” Garrick asked, bouncing and patting the baby’s back.
Slowly, the child’s wails teetered off to soft coos.
Amazed, Leila glanced up. “How are you doing that?”
“It’s like I said—” he cocked his head with a disarming smile “—I’m a natural.”
At that moment, the little girl released a high-pitched squeal to contradict his claim.
A smug smile curved Leila’s lips.
“Any chance I can get that diaper?” he asked.
“Oh.” Leila’s brain kicked into gear. “I think I saw a bag in the kitchen. Hopefully there’s one in there.” She rushed to the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted an unmistakable pink diaper bag on the table. “Bingo! I found it.”
She unzipped the bag and found a stockpile of tiny diapers, bottled milk, plastic toys and singing stuffed frogs.
Garrick strolled into the kitchen while making funny noises to Leila’s new niece. “She’s adorable,” he said, taking one of the diapers. “What’s her name?”
“No clue.”
“You never even met her before?”
“What can I say? Not every family is like the Huxtables,” Leila huffed, and then remembered the letter she still clasped in her hand.
Her new neighbor quickly changed the subject. “Where should I change her?”
Leila lowered the letter again and glanced around. “Uh, I guess we can do it in the living room?”
“Okay.” He carved out a smile. “Lead the way.”
Since her house was not exactly equipped with a baby-changing station, Leila settled on him lying the baby down on the sofa. Even then, she cringed at the potential mess he could make on the furniture’s expensive fabric.
“Any wipes or baby powder?”
Leila blinked as if he spoke a foreign language.
“Could you check the bag?” he asked.
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Leila hid her embarrassment by pivoting and racing back to the kitchen. He had to think she was a complete idiot. In ten minutes, he’d learned that she didn’t know how to hold a baby, calm a baby, or even change a baby. Yet, here she was—with a baby.
“I’ll never forgive her for this,” Leila mumbled under her breath as she grabbed the diaper bag. When she returned to the living room, once again, she watched him coo and blubber a bunch of gibberish. All of which her niece found entertaining.
“Here you go.” She handed over the bag.
“Thanks.” He quickly pulled out the items he needed. “You better pay close attention, seeing you’re going to have to do this about seven to ten times a day.”
Leila’s eyebrows leaped up. “That much?”
“Give or take.” He flashed her a dimpled smile.
Her stomach clenched and she tightened the belt on her robe before, once again, remembering the letter. She unfolded it and read. “Dear Leila. I’m sorry. I know my leaving your new six-month-old niece will be a mild inconvenience…” Leila glanced up. “A mild inconvenience?”
Garrick looked at her but said nothing.
Leila rolled her eyes and returned her attention back to the letter. “Like me, motherhood was never a part of your plans. However, unlike me, your decision wasn’t based on the fact that you would make a lousy mother, but simply because you’re married to your career. I, on the other hand, am a screwup. I always have been.”
Leila’s voice softened. “Since little Emma came into my life, I’m seized by the fear that I’m going to screw her up as well. That’s the last thing I want to do. Emma deserves all the things I can’t give her, but I know that you can. Please don’t hate me for doing this. But I believe I’m doing what’s best for my daughter. Take care of her and love her as your own. Both of you will always be in my thoughts and in my heart. Love, Sam.”
Leila crumpled the letter in her hand. “Give me a break.”
Garrick cast another sidelong glance in her direction.
“Trust me,” she said, folding her arms. “My sister is a piece of work. Every time things get tough, she gets going.”
“But there’s a little girl caught in the middle,” Garrick said.
“Yeah.” Leila fell silent as she stared down at Emma. She could see hints of Sam in the shape of the child’s face and nose.
“Well,” Garrick said, folding up the used diaper. “I’m all done here. You have someplace I can put this?”
Panic seized her. “You’re leaving?”
“Well. There’s no real reason for me to stick around.”
Emma kicked and giggled to herself.
“Besides,” Garrick chuckled and smiled, “I don’t think this little lady will be giving you any more trouble.” He tickled the child’s sides and was rewarded with another burst of giggles. “She’s adorable.”
“But—but. I didn’t see how you did the diaper thingy,” Leila said.
“Trust me.” He laughed as he stood. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.” He tried to hand the used diaper over.
Leila turned up her nose and waved the odorous thing away. “Hold on.” She turned and bolted back toward the kitchen. When she returned, she carried her large stainless-steel garbage can with her. “Drop it in here.”
Garrick’s brows dipped in confusion, but he did as she asked. “Um, is there anyone you can call to help you with her?” He reached down and picked up the rolling child before she fell off the sofa.
Leila shook her head and set the garbage can down.
“Another family member…or friend?”
She snapped her fingers and raced over to the cordless phone on the end table. “Ciara!”
Garrick brightened. “There you go. Problem solved.”
“You’re so right. Ciara totally knows about this whole baby thing. I can pawn Ms. Emma off on her for a few hours while I hunt down my mentally handicapped sister.” She punched in the number.
He frowned. “Do you think that’s a wise idea?”
She listened as the phone rang. “What do you mean?”
“Well, apparently your sister is, uh, a little unstable at the moment. Maybe it’s not the right time to force her to take care of Emma. You know, I read an article the other day on postpartum depression—”
“What are you, a shrink?”
“No—”
“Tom Cruise?”
He chuckled. “Definitely not.”
Suddenly, Ciara’s voice filtered onto the line. “Hello.”
“Ciara! Thank God you’re home.”
“You’ve reached the Winstons’ residence. Sorry, we’re not able to come to the phone right now.”
“Damn it!” She slammed the phone down onto its cradle.
“Uh, there’s a baby in the room.” Garrick’s expression twisted as he attempted to cover Emma’s ears.
Leila waved him off. “She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”
Garrick drew a deep, patient breath. “Children are like sponges. They absorb everything.”
“Uh-huh.” Leila folded her arms and scrutinized him carefully. “I take it you have children?”
He shifted Emma to his other arm. “Not exactly.”
Her eyebrows dipped to the center of her forehead. “It’s a yes or no question.”
“Then the answer is no.” He walked over to her. “But I’m a highly qualified uncle—who incidentally understands the Gerber baby meal plan, knows the difference between a hungry wail and a teething wail, and I am pretty skilled in the diaper-changing arena.” He tried to hand over Emma.
“Wait a minute…I don’t—”
“Come on. You can do it.” He slid Emma into Leila’s arms and proceeded to instruct her on the proper way to hold the child. “There. You already have the hang of it.” He turned and exited out of the living room.
“Wait. Where are you going?”
“Home.” He strode across the foyer.
“But you can’t go,” she reasoned, giving chase.
He laughed, but refused to stop. “Why can’t I?”
“Because I need you.” She reached out and grabbed him by the arm. “I don’t know anything about babies. What if—What if I—?”
“What if you what?” Garrick turned and glanced back at her.
Leila’s mind went blank. “I don’t know. What if I break her…or scar her for life or something? That happens a lot in my family.”
When he chuckled, she snatched back her hand and struggled to extinguish a spark of anger.
He sensed he’d offended her and turned toward her with another breathtaking smile. “You’re going to be fine,” he reassured. “Women have been taking care of babies since Adam and Eve. That’s what they were put on this earth for. It’s in your nature.”
“What?”
“It’s in your nature,” he repeated.
Leila stared at him. “What kind of sexist pig are you?”
Garrick blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It’s in our nature?” She stepped back. “Is that the best you can do? I’m standing here telling you that I could potentially emotionally scar a little girl and your response is a flippant ‘It’s in my nature’?”
“Well—”
“You know. Never mind.” She marched over to the door and held it open. “Thanks for your so-called help.”
He stared at her; but when she lifted her head and refused to meet his gaze again, he shrugged and strolled toward the door. When he reached it, he stopped and contemplated whether he needed to apologize; but there was something about the firm line of her jaw and the height of her nose that made him reconsider.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, and walked out.
The door slammed as soon as he crossed the threshold. Garrick looked back and shook his head. “At least Scrooge was sane.”
Chapter 4
Samantha Owens sobbed behind the wheel of her fifteen-year-old beat-up sedan. Her guilt weighed down her shoulders while the hole in her heart expanded. It had been nearly thirty minutes since she’d left Emma at her sister’s house—the longest thirty minutes of her life.
“You did the right thing,” the devil on her shoulder repeated—or was it the angel? She was so mixed up, she couldn’t tell them apart anymore. Frustrated, she dropped her head against the center of the steering wheel, and then jumped when the horn blared.
She sat up and glanced around Leila’s quiet neighborhood. Leila’s front door jerked open and for a moment, Samantha feared the worst. Instead, a handsome stranger emerged and then jumped when the front door slammed behind him.
A classic Leila move.
However, the neighbor seemed more amused than angry as he strolled with a confident swagger across the street. He was quite a specimen and she wondered whether he and her sister were more than just neighbors.
Sam dispelled the notion and refocused her attention on Leila’s McMansion. “I did the right thing,” she concluded, starting the car. “Bye, Emma. Mommy loves you.”
Garrick returned home and made a beeline to the kitchen for a pot of coffee; but after a morning with the unforgettable Leila Owens, maybe he needed something with a little more kick.
“Was a simple ‘thank you’ too much to ask for?” He shook his head and reached for his favorite can of Santo Domingo coffee. “Come to think of it, she probably never said the words before.
“She’ll need me again,” he assured himself. “Undoubtedly needing help warming a baby’s bottle. Career women.” He shook his head.
The doorbell rang.
He stopped and turned with a smug smile. “Surprise, surprise,” he mumbled as he donned a sweatshirt. He headed toward the front door and opened it with a flourish. “And what can I do for you now, Leila?”
“Merry Christmas!” Orlando and his family shouted at him with armloads of wrapped gifts.
Startled, Garrick jerked back in surprise. “Oh, uh, Merry Christmas to you, too. Uh, come on in.” He stepped back and watched them enter one by one.
“Uncle Garrick, were you surprised?” his three-year-old niece, Omara, asked.
Garrick knelt down to her level. “I sure was, honey. I can’t believe you were able to keep a secret from me. It must have been hard.”
“Real hard.” Omara blinked her long, black, curly lashes and slid her arms around his neck. “I got a ’nother surprise for you.”
“You do?” He gathered her into his arms and stood. “What kind of surprise?” He closed the door.
“I gotcha a present.”
“Oh?” Garrick rounded his eyes as wide as he could get them. “I looovve presents.”
Omara giggled.
“Uh, who is Leila?” Tamara asked, sliding out of her coat.
“What?”
Tamara glanced at her husband. “Isn’t that what he said when he answered the door?”
Orlando shrugged. “I didn’t catch the name.”
“Well, I did.” She walked over to her brother-in-law and met his gaze with her hands firmly jammed onto her hips. “Who is she? And think twice before lying to me. You know I have my ways of finding the truth.”
Garrick chuckled at Tamara aka the human lie detector. “Calm down. It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“You don’t,” Orlando piped in. “Nobody does. Nobody wants to know.”
Tamara turned her narrowed eyes toward him.
“Just trying to help my brother out.” He shrugged and returned his gaze to Garrick. “You’re on your own, bro.”
“I just want to make sure there isn’t another woman in the picture before I send him out on a date with one of my best friends. That’s all.”
“Then you can relax.” Garrick led them out of the foyer and toward the living room. “Leila is just my crazy neighbor across the street.”
Tamara perked. “You’ve already met your neighbors?”
“Just the one…and I’m already regretting it.”
Leila was ready to pull her hair out by the roots. Who knew something so tiny could be so loud…for so long? “Give me a few more minutes and your bottle will be ready,” she reassured.
She practiced bouncing the baby and patting her back the same way Garrick had, but it wasn’t working. Neither were her sorry attempts to warm up a freakin’ bottle. She’d warmed one up in the microwave with disastrous results, and she quickly learned leaving a bottle to heat for more than ten minutes on the stove caused the milky stuff to separate from the watery stuff.
Now she was on the quest to discover the perfect time for a baby bottle to warm. Meanwhile, Emma hollered as though she hadn’t eaten since Philip had passed the bread at the last supper.
“Okay. Okay, Emma,” she cooed. “I think this is going to be it.” Leila removed the bottle. “So far so good.”
Belatedly, she remembered seeing Roslyn test a bottle by squirting milk onto the back of her hand to double check the temperature, and she followed suit. However, the top wasn’t screwed on tight enough and it popped off the moment she turned the bottle over on her hand.
“Damn it!” She jumped back and managed not to drop the baby.
Emma screamed and nearly pierced Leila’s eardrum.
“What? Why are you screaming? I’m the one scalded.”
Her niece didn’t seem to care as she sucked more oxygen into her lungs and let it rip a second time.
Tears welled in the back of Leila’s eyes as her frustration reached an all-time high. She simply wasn’t made out for this sort of thing, but what choice did she have but to trudge through it?
“Okay. Okay. Please stop crying. Auntie Leila is doing the best she can.” She bounced and patted her some more as she made her way back to the diaper bag. “I’m sure we have another bottle in the bag.”
She was wrong.
“Oh, no. No. No.” She searched every inch of the bag at least ten times. “Please, God. Say this isn’t happening.”
But it was.
“Okay. I have to think.” However, Emma’s screams made it impossible.
Maybe her next-door neighbor…
Leila shook the rogue thought from her head. She couldn’t go back over there after the way she’d behaved—and she’d behaved badly. She still held in her defense that she’d practically begged the man for help, but he’d been so damn determined to bolt out of there that she…Okay, so there was really no excuse for her behavior.
Exhaling, Leila dug back through the bag and found small glass jars of baby food. “Oh, thank God.” She exhaled. “Let’s see what we have in here.” She returned to the stove, but once again was plagued with how long it took to warm up food.
Her stomach rumbled and reminded her that she, too, needed breakfast. “One thing at a time,” she told herself. “Okay, we have some very interesting-looking chicken and beef here.”
Emma bucked in her arms and grabbed a healthy portion of Leila’s hair.
“Ouch, you little spoiled brat.” Leila dropped one of the glass jars and ignored it when it shattered at her feet. “Let go.” She tugged for Emma to release her hold. Instead, the child yanked harder and intensified Leila’s mountainous headache. With one last pull, she finally let go.
“Oh, I give up.” Leila spun around and marched out of the kitchen. “Pride be damned. I can’t do this.”
Now dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a T-shirt, Garrick returned to the sparsely decorated living room with a six-inch tabletop Christmas tree that easily made Charlie Brown’s worthy for Times Square.
As he entered, Omara shrieked with joy at the sight of the armload of gifts he’d purchased.
Tamara rolled her eyes and shook her head. “We’d agreed on just one gift.”
“You said one gift, but I never agreed to it,” he reminded her with a soft smile and set the gifts down in the center of the floor.
His niece squealed in delight as she flew from her father’s lap to the packages.
“You two do nothing but spoil her,” Tamara complained.
Garrick laughed. “That’s what you’re supposed to do with little girls.”
“She knows,” Orlando said, winking at his wife. “She’s nothing but a big daddy’s girl herself.” He returned his attention to his brother. “Every time I see her father, he’s cleaning his gun.”
“I don’t blame him. She could’ve done better.”
Orlando’s brows dipped. “Hey!”
“What?” Garrick jabbed a thumb at his chest. “I was available.”
“You stay away from my wife, bro.” Orlando looped an arm around her waist. “I mean it. You play too much.”
“Daddy, look!” Omara tottered over to showcase her latest baby doll. “It cries just like a real baby!”
“Oh, joy.” Orlando smote his brother with a narrowed gaze.
“Hey, anything for the kids.” Garrick chuckled.
“That’s all right,” Tamara said, patting her husband’s leg. “Revenge will be ours when he finally has children.”