A Vow, a Ring, a Baby Swing

by Teresa Southwick

“What am I going to name her?” Rosie said again, looking at him in a panic. “I was so sure she was going to be a boy.”

  Steve congratulated himself. Not once did he wince at the “I’s” in those two sentences. Not even a twitch. He’d given up the right to be part of her life. He would never forget the anger in her eyes when she’d said he had hard-copy proof that no man wanted her. Every fiber of his being vibrated with the need to tell her how much—how long—he’d wanted her. Now she wouldn’t believe him, and the shadow of hurt he’d seen in Rosie’s face would haunt him forever.

  “Is she all right?” He stood beside the bed, staring down at the baby.

  “The pediatrician says she’s fine.” Rosie looked up at him, her beautiful eyes glowing with excitement. “You went into the newborn nursery while they checked her over. What did they say?”

  He stuck his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “That she’s perfect. But I thought—” He shrugged.

  He was still half afraid that there would be repercussions for Rosie and the baby from going into labor before her due date.

  “What? They have no reason to lie to you.”

  Unlike some people. Meaning him. She didn’t say it in so many words, but he heard it.

  “I’ve never been this close to a baby. If this ever gets out, I’ll deny it, but that little girl scares me to death.”

  Rosie smiled down at the sweet bundle in her arms. He wanted to tell her why he’d kept the pictures from

  That thought sent pain careening through him. He had never wished to be a better man more than he did right now. Rosie’s struggle to bring a new life into the world had taught him the meaning of the word respect. No matter how much it would hurt, he would disappear and let her find someone who was her equal.

  The privacy curtain around Rosie’s bed moved slightly and Steve saw Liz Anderson, the short, dark-haired obstetrics nurse who had guided them through labor and delivery. Wearing rose-colored hospital scrubs, she studied mother and baby and nodded with satisfaction.

  She looked at him. “There are three burly men out here who stated categorically that designated visiting hours are for everyone but them. They threatened to pick me up bodily and lock me in the broom closet.”

  Rosie laughed. “Their name doesn’t happen to be Marchetti, does it?”

  The woman nodded. “One of them thinks he’s very charming.”

  “Joe?” Rosie and Steve asked together.

  “That’s the one,” the nurse said, laughing.

  Rosie tucked her curly hair behind her ear. “He’s harmless.”

  “That’s what I told him.” Then her grin disappeared and she was all business again. “I’ll bend the rules since I have a feeling it would take the National Guard to keep them out.” She half turned, then shot

  “Aren’t there laws against eavesdropping?”

  “A hospital is a law unto itself,” she said loftily.

  Rosie grinned. “Send in the burlies.”

  Liz nodded and left. Moments later Alex, Joe, and Luke Marchetti stood shoulder to shoulder on one side of their sister. Rosie angled her elbow and her body slightly forward so they could get a good look at their new niece.

  Alex met his gaze across the bed. “Congratulations, Pop. How does it feel to be a dad?”

  “Pretty amazing,” Steve answered truthfully. That was no lie, no act. He couldn’t imagine feeling more protective, more anxious, or more love if the baby had been his own.

  “What are you going to name her?” Joe asked. “You might want to give some thought to Josephine.”

  “What about Lucinda?” Luke said. “I think it has a nice ring to it.”

  Alex loosely draped his arm across his younger brother’s shoulders. “What do you think of Alexandra Josephine—”

  “Florence Thomasina?” Rosie laughed. “She’s no bigger than a minute and that’s a lot of name to pin on her.”

  “No problem. She’s a Marchetti,” Alex said. “Ma said she looks just like you when you were a baby.”

  Luke met Steve’s gaze. “She’s a Schafer, too.”

  “Yeah,” Steve said, seeing something he didn’t understand in the other man’s eyes. In every way that counts, this baby is mine, he thought.

  “I haven’t decided on a name yet,” Rosie said. “But you guys will be the first to know when I do.” Frowning, she looked past them. “Where’s Nick? Does he know about her?”

  The three men exchanged uncomfortable looks. Alex finally spoke up. “He knows. But there’s a business crisis. He made sure you and the munchkin were all right, and said he’ll see you when he can.”

  “Oh,.”

  There was a world of hurt in that one small word and Steve knew he was responsible for it. Rosie and Nick had always had a special bond. Her oldest brother had shared all the major events in her life. It didn’t get more major than giving birth, and Nick wasn’t there.

  Steve knew no business crisis in the world could have kept Nick away. It was him, Steve. It had everything to do with who he was and where he came from. He would give anything if he could change that. Rosie was his wife and today she had made them a family. This is what life was all about. He had come to need her more than he thought possible.

  The nurse came around the curtain again. “Visiting hours are over. Time for the Marchetti marauders to hit the road.”

  Joe elbowed past Luke and Alex to stand over the petite nurse. He stooped slightly to read her name tag. “Ms. E. Anderson.”

  She looked up at him and arched a brow. “Impressive.”

  He grinned. “Think so?”

  “I do. Reading is an underrated skill. You should do it more often.”

  “Look,” he said, frowning, “we’d like to spend a little more time with our new niece. She’s the first—”

  “No. You look, Marchetti. This is a hospital. There are rules. Rules are for everyone. Including you. Either go quietly—”

  “Or you’ll call security?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t have to.” In the blink of an eye, she reached up and snagged his ear, yanking firmly. Joe yelped, but she didn’t let go. “Now follow me.”

  “‘Bye, sis. Nice-lookin’ kid....” His voice faded as he left the room.

  The last two Marchetti brothers grinned as they shook Steve’s hand. Alex said. “I guess it’s time to go.”

  Luke bent and kissed Rosie’s cheek. “We’ll see you when the pit bull goes off duty.”

  Rosie nodded. “Thanks for coming. I love you.”

  “Same here, sis,” they said together.

  Then Steve was alone with Rosie. He watched her shift uncomfortably in the bed.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Just tired. And sore,” she answered. She looked at him uncertainly.

  “What, Ro?”

  “Could you put the baby in her little isolette for me?”

  Steve hadn’t held her yet. He’d taken parenting classes with Rosie, but now was his baptism of fire.

  She felt so sweet and small and warm—a living, breathing miracle. The lump of emotion was back. The feelings were so big, so powerful, so profound that he was caught off guard. With his free hand, he rubbed his eyes. He swung away and set the baby in her little square bed, on her side, as they’d been taught.

  “Do you think she’s comfortable in this thing?” he asked. When he turned to Rosie, he saw that she was looking at him strangely, smiling slightly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I was just wondering what the Macho Men of America would say about breaking the cardinal rule. You remember, number one or two, the one about tears in your eyes.”

  “I wasn’t—It’s not what you—”

  “Sell it somewhere else, Schafer. It’s exactly what I think, and just about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,” she finished, her own voice catching with emotion.

  “Okay. There’s a corollary to the rule book. During and immediately following a life-altering experience such as birth, all rules
are null and void.”

  Rosie had never loved him more. She was still mad at him, but she couldn’t help loving him. She always had and always would. Her own eyes filled with tears, of sadness and joy. In front of her brothers, he had claimed her child as his own. His unselfishness had never meant more than it did at this moment.

  He gave his heart freely, simply and purely for the sake of a child. She knew this because he could have

  “I wouldn’t have made it without you, Steve.”

  He sat in the chair by the bed and hesitated before taking her hand. “I didn’t do anything.”

  She shook her head. “I was ready to give up. Then you made me look at you and told me I could do this. You made me believe.”

  He glanced at the sleeping infant. “I like it when I’m right.”

  “I will always be grateful to you for my child.”

  He would leave soon and the baby was all she would have.

  A few hours later, smiling from ear to ear, Flo Marchetti breezed into her hospital room. While she looked at the peacefully sleeping baby in the isolette, Rosie tried to hide the tears streaming down her face. But she should have known better. Mama Marchetti sees all, knows all, and what she doesn’t see and know, she guesses with amazing accuracy.

  Flo pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat. “Tell your mother what’s wrong.”

  “Hormones.”

  “Body chemistry does not work against you when your life is perfect.” The older woman shook her head. “You have everything you always wanted. A beautiful, healthy baby girl. She looks just like you did when you were a baby. My granddaughter—But I digress. You have a man who adores you.” She stopped and stared. “Which part of what I just said are you looking at me like that for?”

  “The part where the man adores me.” Rosie

  Her mother touched a finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture. “Let me guess. You and Steve married because you were pregnant. And he’s not the father.”

  Rosie’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

  “That Tahoe wedding had ‘shotgun’ written all over it. But I wasn’t certain until you told us about the pregnancy. Then the pieces fell into place.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

  “You always accuse me of meddling.” She shrugged. “It was a matter of pride.”

  “Does Daddy know?” Rosie asked.

  Flo shook her head. “And I see no point in telling him, or your brothers, either.”

  “Why?”

  “For the same reason Steve let us believe the conclusion we jumped to about him being the baby’s father. Protecting the Marchetti men from themselves.”

  “Is there anything you don’t know?” Rosie asked.

  Her mother nodded. “I have no idea why you’re crying.”

  “Steve doesn’t love me.”

  “You’re so wrong.”

  Rosie vehemently shook her head. “You’re mistaking love for pity. Those pictures of Wayne and the bimbo prove it.”

  “They prove I was right to send Steve to stop the wedding. The real question is why he had them in the first place.”

  “You hired him to check out Wayne.”

  This time her mother vehemently shook her head.

  “Why?”

  “Rosemarie, you are not stupid. I don’t understand why this is so hard for you. He loves you.”

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong, Ma. Not once has he said those words to me.”

  “Have you told him you love him?”

  “Well...” At her mother’s narrow-eyed look she squirmed, then blurted, “No.”

  “Have you given him a hint about how you feel?”

  “No.”

  “So you ran away because he can’t read your mind.”

  “I haven’t run anywhere, Mother.”

  Flo waved a hand. “That was a figure of speech. You are the spoiled youngest of five children. On top of that, the other four are boys who adore you. All your life you’ve gotten everything you wanted, without asking. The few times you didn’t, you went to your room and pouted. It’s quite unattractive, dear.”

  “I’m not doing that.”

  “Emotionally you are.” She folded her hands in her lap and leaned forward earnestly. “Why should he put himself out there if you won’t?”

  “Because he’s the guy.”

  “He’s a guy who’s been rejected by the people who should have loved him the most, his parents. May their souls burn in hell,” she said angrily. “He can’t risk putting his feelings on the line with you. If you throw him away, too, it would destroy him.”

  “I would never hurt him,” Rosie said indignantly. Then she pulled her legs toward her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “And I don’t think

  “I’m losing my patience, Rosemarie. If he didn’t love you, no way in hell would he have married you and led everyone to believe he’s the father of your baby. You have to fight for him.” She leaned forward. “I’m going to tell you a secret. Before I married your father, he was dating someone else. I knew he was the man I wanted to marry, so I told him to drop the bimbo because I loved him more than she ever could.”

  “Ma, your language!”

  “The point is, you have to fight for your man. Steve needs to know you love him as much as he loves you.” When Rosie shook her head, her mother’s look turned stern. “The truth has been staring you in the face for years. Do you remember when he beat up Timmy Henderson for pushing you off your bike? Or when you were ten and he rigged up the flashlight in your room so we wouldn’t know you were reading after lights-out? As far as you were concerned, the word no wasn’t in his vocabulary. He would do anything to make you happy. He loves you, Rosie. He always has.”

  Somehow, hearing her mother say the words put everything into perspective. “I guess I always knew, but I’ve been afraid to believe. It hurt so much over the years, you know?” Her mother nodded sympathetically. “Every time I put myself on the line with him, I was turned away.”

  Flo looked thoughtful. “That has something to do with Nick. I’m not sure what. But my next mission is to find out and patch those two up.”

  “I can save you the trouble, Ma.”

  Rosie saw Nick holding the privacy curtain aside as he stood at the foot of her hospital bed. “How long have you been there?” she asked.

  “Long enough to know that I’m a narrow-minded moron.”

  “That’s being kind, son.” Flo looked at him. “I can’t tell you what you really are in front of your sister, my daughter, who’s just recovering from childbirth. Suffice it to say it’s the rear of a very large animal—”

  “I get the picture, Ma.” Nick looked at the baby, sound asleep in the isolette. “She’s a stunner, my niece.”

  Rosie smiled softly at her daughter. “How does it feel?”

  “Unclehood?” he asked. “Feels great. How long till she’s big enough for amusement parks—”

  “No. I meant being wrong. It so seldom happens to you. I just wondered how you’d handle it.”

  “The same way I do everything, with dignity, nobility, style, et cetera.”

  Rosie shot him a wicked look. “I want viscerals that include words like slime, pond scum, lower than a snake’s belly, whatever that stuff is on the underside of rocks at the bottom of lakes where there’s no water current to wash it off—”

  “Jeez, sis.” He held fingertips to palm for a time-out. He looked at his mother. “Isn’t it your job to protect and defend your firstborn?”

  “Not this time.”

  “You’ve both made your point.” His look turned serious before he bent to kiss his mother, then Rosie. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “On a mission,” he said.

  Chapter Twelve

  Steve looked around his condo wondering why he’d come here instead of the apartment after leaving the hospital. The tri-level had been professionally decorated. On the main floor
was the kitchen, living room, and dining area. Half a flight up were four bedrooms, and six steps down was a large family room that he almost never used. He wondered why the place no longer felt familiar and comfortable. The answer was simple.

  Rosie.

  She made anywhere home to him, and she hadn’t been here. Except the night she’d dropped in and found him with another woman. He’d seen in her eyes then that she would leave him in the dust. That explained why he’d bypassed the apartment. He was already disconnecting, or trying to. Maybe he should have agreed to her suggestion to live here. He would never have brought up the subject of her moving out and she might have just stayed—in spite of marrying

  The doorbell sounded and his first thought was that bad things came in threes. He’d already listed number one and two and wasn’t sure he wanted to face the third.

  A vision of Rosie holding the baby flashed into his mind. Before the image of her could draw emotional blood, he opened the door. Surprise didn’t quite do justice to what he felt seeing Nick there.

  Steve stood in the center of the doorway, blocking it. “What do you want?”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Steve shrugged and stepped aside, then shut the door. It would muffle some of the noise for his neighbors if Nick decided to take his shot now.

  “How did you know where to find me?” Steve asked.

  “You weren’t at the apartment, I figured you’d be here.”

  So Nick had put some effort into hunting for him. When a guy wanted to hide, it was a disadvantage for someone to know him as well as Nick did. Steve watched his friend reach into the pocket of his suit coat and pull out a cigar.

  “What’s that for?” he asked, completely mystified.

  “It’s a good thing you’ve got me to initiate you into the rituals of fatherhood. When you have a baby, it’s customary to hand out cigars to one’s friends, acquaintances, brothers-in-law—”

  “Fatherhood?”

  “Since you dropped the ball on this one, I figured the godfather could pick up the slack and do the cigar bit.”

  “You’re the baby’s godfather? Rosie didn’t say anything.”

  “She doesn’t know yet. But as the eldest sibling I decided—”