The Baby Quest

by Pat Warren

  Rachel smiled. “I promise.”

  After she left, Rachel went in to clean up the kitchen. Finishing, she hoped she’d have time to take a quick shower before Alyssa woke up. But as she walked into her bedroom, she heard the baby crying her hungry cry.

  “No rest for the weary,” Rachel said out loud as she walked back into the kitchen to heat a bottle.

  Jack locked the door to his office in a high-rise office building a couple blocks off Sunset Boulevard, thinking he should be feeling elated. He’d wrapped up a very difficult case he’d been working on for months, begun weeks before his trips to Whitehorn. The client had been most appreciative, handing him a generous check. Ronnie Drake, his partner who’d worked with him less than a year, had also scored big this afternoon, closing out an ongoing case.

  Ronnie had asked him to leave early with him and they’d go celebrate. Jack had begged off. Despite the fact that the business was doing very well, thank you, he didn’t feel like celebrating.

  Where was the pleasure, the satisfaction, in jobs well done, in succeeding? Damned if he knew.

  Frowning, he pushed the button for the elevator and waited impatiently. Why was he so impatient lately? He asked himself. He had nothing to run home to, no one waiting, no dinner that would be ruined if he stayed out half the night. Which is the way he liked it, he reminded himself.

  The elevator doors slid silently open and he got on, distracted by his errant thoughts.

  “Hello, Jack,” a warm feminine voice from behind greeted him.

  Turning, he recognized Sharon What’s-her-name, a lovely blonde he’d dated occasionally last year. He gave her a smile while he tried to remember her last name. “Hi. How’s it going?”

  “Not bad. How are things with you?” She was lovely, model-thin, her hair pulled back in some sleek hairdo that showed off her wonderful cheekbones. She wore gorgeous clothes, today’s outfit in forest green, expensive-looking. She was exactly like dozens of others he’d dated over the years. Beautiful, stylish, undemanding.

  “Fine, fine.” Jack cleared his throat, realizing he had absolutely nothing more he wanted to say to Sharon.

  The elevator stopped at another floor and more people boarded. Jack and Sharon stepped back.

  “I haven’t seen you around much,” she purred.

  “I’ve been out of town quite a bit on a case.” He sent her a quick, apologetic glance, then faced the front.

  The elevator doors slid open on the main floor. Always a gentleman, Jack waited until everyone else got off, then stepped out. He saw that she’d lingered and wished she hadn’t.

  “Have you got plans tonight?” Sharon asked, silky smooth. “We could stop in P.J.’s for a drink. For old times’ sake.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got an appointment,” he lied. “Rain check?” he asked, hoping to salvage her pride.

  “Sure.” Cool and seemingly unaffected, she smiled. “See you later.” Leaving a trail of expensive cologne, she left through the double glass doors.

  Jack heaved a sigh of relief as he walked over and bought a newspaper from the newsstand in the lobby. Leaving the building, he walked two blocks to the lot where his BMW was parked, got in and headed for his west side condo, too lost in thought to be annoyed at the usual rush-hour congestion. Or to notice the warmth of the winter day, the weather still in the seventies.

  Twenty minutes later, he eased his car into the underground parking garage, got out and took the elevator up to the twelfth floor. Digging in his pocket, he found his keys, then stood staring at the gold-and-onyx keychain Rachel had given him. Why was it so many things reminded him of her, each time throwing him off balance?

  Stopping in front of No. 1214, he was about to enter when a woman got off the elevator carrying a baby. Normally, Jack would have barely spared a glance toward a mother and child, but something made him smile and say hello as she approached.

  She stopped, friendly-like. “Hello.” She was attractive, somewhere in her mid-twenties with light brown hair and freckles on her nose.

  Jack’s gaze went to the baby in the pink blanket, a round-faced little girl without a hair on her head. “How old is she?” he asked, surprising himself.

  “Five months yesterday,” the woman told him proudly. “She’s already got a tooth.” With a finger, she parted the baby’s little lips and showed off the new acquisition.

  She was cute, but not nearly as pretty as Alyssa, Jack thought. Nor was the mother anywhere close to being as attractive as Rachel. Knowing she was waiting for a comment, he obliged. “A tooth already? I didn’t know babies had teeth at five months.” Alyssa was the same age. Was she teething already?

  “Some do, some don’t.” The woman shifted her heavy bundle and, with a smile, said goodbye and walked down the hallway past Jack’s place.

  Inserting his key at last, he went inside and flipped on a light. His housekeeper had been in today and the place smelled of lemon polish, not unpleasant. Taking off his jacket and tie as he walked to the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and took out the orange juice. He poured himself a tall glass, drinking it as he looked around. A designer kitchen, it had all the amenities he’d felt he needed, yet seldom used. He could cook, had had to learn at an early age. But mostly, he ate out or brought in takeout.

  He opened the refrigerator again, feeling slightly hungry, wondering what to fix, but seeing nothing that appealed to him. As if in flashback, he remembered the great meals Rachel used to make. Pot roast, a chicken-and-rice dish, shrimp and pasta. He’d eaten like a king in that little nine-by-twelve kitchen. He shut the refrigerator door, his appetite leaving him.

  He walked back into his living room. “Oatmeal” the decorator had called the color of the carpeting throughout his condo. The walls were champagne. Colors it would seem were all connected to food or drink these days. His oversize mocha-brown leather couch faced a ceiling-to-floor bank of windows that looked out on the lights of L.A. In the corner was a fireplace he’d never used. Looking around, he saw that every toss pillow was placed just so, every book on the shelves was neatly in place, spine facing out. The lighting was subdued and, with the flick of a button, he could activate his stereo and music would fill each room.

  Walking to his bedroom, he stared at his king-size bed that he’d been tossing and turning in all alone for the past couple of weeks. Here again was a perfect room designed for the professional that he was, the president of his own company, earning well into six figures at age thirty-five. He entered his walk-in closet where suits and shirts hung on one side, casual attire on the other. Below were his shoes, from formal to sportswear, all polished, ready for any activity he chose. Above were some hats, a Stetson that Gina had given him for standing up in her wedding, baseball hats, fun hats for a fun guy.

  A fun guy was something he hadn’t been in a long while. Jack drained his juice, set the glass on his nightstand and lay back on his bed, kicking off his tassel loafers. He was living the American dream, successful, monied, with all the grown-up toys his income could buy. He’d worked hard, paid his dues and was now prepared to reap the rewards.

  Only his list of rewards had grown stale and so had he.

  Raising his arms, he placed both hands under his head and stared at the ceiling. Do you know what you want? Rachel had asked him. And Jack had thought he did. He wanted what he had, with no demands on his time he wasn’t willing to give, no commitments to others, no ties except to his sister and, occasionally, his mother. He had the perfect life, the good life.

  So then, what in hell was he unhappy about?

  Closing his eyes, he saw himself painting Alyssa’s bedroom, putting together her crib, laughing with Rachel when he’d put the wheels on backward. They’d laughed a lot—when shopping for groceries, cleaning up after dinner together, or sitting in front of the fire eating pizza off paper plates. He remembered Alyssa’s wide eyes when they’d driven around to look at the Christmas lights. But most of all, he relived in his mind the magical hours he’d spent in the
four-poster with Rachel.

  Rachel. His heart skipped several beats at the very thought of her. What had she done to him? She’d ruined his perfect life. If she wasn’t in it, it was no longer perfect. Plain and simple. But how could he protect her from himself? Wasn’t it kinder to leave her now rather than later when the wanderlust he’d inherited from his father took over?

  Or was he using that as an excuse, as Rachel had said, because he truly was afraid of marriage and all that entailed? Why can’t you be honest, at least? she’d asked. Quit blaming your father for everything. He had been doing that, hadn’t he?

  Disgusted with himself, with this line of thinking, Jack sat up, found the remote and clicked on the big-screen TV opposite the bed. It took him a few moments to realize they were playing a documentary on Montana. Annoyed, he turned the set off.

  He needed to think things through. But first, a jog on the beach to clear his mind. He was stripped down to his briefs when the phone rang. He grabbed the bedroom extension. “Hello?”

  “Jack, it’s Gina.”

  Her voice sounded odd. “Gina, are you all right? Is the baby…?”

  “We’re both fine. I haven’t talked to you in a while, so I’m just calling to see how you are.”

  “I’m fine. Busy. Wrapped up a big case today. I was just going out to jog on the beach. It’s seventy here. I’ll bet you’re freezing your fanny over there.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t giving her monosyllabic answers. “Yeah, it’s pretty cold.” She saw no reason to beat around the bush. “Have you talked with Rachel lately?”

  Jack sat on the bed. He’d been avoiding calls from his sister for this very reason. “No, should I have?”

  “Yeah, I think you should. I was over to see her and Alyssa yesterday and—”

  “How are they?” The question had slipped out.

  Aha! Gotcha! Gina smiled. “Alyssa’s teething. Rachel looks wonderful. She’s expecting a guest.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

  “Oh? Who might that be?”

  Gina shot a glance heavenward, hoping she’d be forgiven a white lie for a good cause. “You remember hearing about Richard Montrose, the man she was engaged to? Well, he’s back from Italy and a big success with his paintings. He called her, asking her to forgive him, and said he’s planning on visiting her in Whitehorn.” Fingers crossed, she waited for her brother’s response.

  Jack was silent, thinking that over. “You don’t say. I got the impression she didn’t have any feelings left for him.”

  “Oh, she says she doesn’t, but she’s letting him come anyhow.” Gina waited, but he was quiet, probably thinking hard. “You know, you could change all that, Jack.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, come now. Let’s remember who you’re talking with here. I may be your younger sister, but I can read you like a book. You care about Rachel very deeply. I know you went home to think about things. Well, Jack, do you think you have unlimited chances, unlimited time to figure things out?”

  Still no reply, so she went on. “Look at your life there, Jack. You go to bed alone, wake up alone, eat alone. Sure, you have friends and probably lots of dates, if you want them. But do any of those women mean anything to you? Is this how you pictured your ideal life? I know, you’re a big successful businessman. But money ain’t everything, sweetie. It’s damn hard to snuggle up to cold, hard cash on a winter’s night.”

  “All right, I get the picture. Do you really think this guy has a chance with her? I mean, it’s been years and—”

  “You never know. Rachel’s the forgiving sort. Besides, if she winds up with full custody of Alyssa, she may well remain in Whitehorn and she’ll need help raising her. How do you feel about that baby?” This was a loaded question, but one Gina had to know the answer to.

  “I’m surprised to say I fell in love with her. She’s so happy all the time, so responsive, you know.” He cleared his throat, realizing what he’d just said. Yet realizing he meant it.

  “Jack,” Gina said, her voice softening, “answer something for me. Were you happy here with Rachel?” After all, she really didn’t want to push him into something he’d regret.

  Happy? It wasn’t even hard to admit that he’d never been that happy before or since. Then what had he run from? Jack asked himself. Probably the only real and lasting happiness he’d ever known, came the answer. “Yeah, I was.”

  “I know you’re afraid you’ll turn out as irresponsible as Dad was. But look at the facts, Jack. You’ve never done an irresponsible thing in your life. You took care of Mom and me, you gave up your youth and fun years for us. You took me into the company and always looked after me. What makes you think you’ll change suddenly into this irresponsible jerk?”

  “Okay, okay. When you’re right, you’re right.”

  Gina couldn’t help smiling. “Does that mean you’re coming here to see Rachel?”

  “When is Richard arriving?” Suddenly it occurred to Jack that he might be too late.

  “Not for a while. You’ve got time, but not a lot. Don’t drive. Catch a plane and I’ll meet you.”

  “No, I’ll rent a car like before. I’ll call for reservations right now.”

  “Good. You won’t regret this, Jack.”

  “I know, and thanks. I love you. See you soon.”

  “I love you, too.” Gina hung up the phone and let out a whoop of delight. Then she went to search out Trent to tell him what she’d done.

  Rachel carried Alyssa to her bed and put her down for her afternoon nap. Fortunately, the tooth had broken through and the baby was once more her smiling self. Sighing, she walked back into the living room and lit the fire she’d laid before leaving for her doctor’s appointment. Even though she was wearing a white turtleneck and her gray wool slacks, she was chilled. Small wonder since it was well below freezing outside. The Montana winter was in full swing with about six inches of fresh snow on the ground from yesterday’s storm.

  Kicking off the slippers she’d put on after removing her boots, she reached for the afghan on the back of the couch and snuggled down under it. Alyssa would sleep for a good two hours, giving Rachel time to rest, as well. The doctor had told her to take it easy and he’d given her a huge bottle of prenatal vitamins. Otherwise, he’d said, she was a very healthy woman and there was no reason to believe she wouldn’t deliver a healthy baby.

  Pregnant. It was stunning news, even though she’d been fairly certain she was. A tiny boy or girl. Who would the baby look like? A boy who looked like Jack might be difficult to handle, a constant reminder of the man who’d walked away. Yet at least she’d have a little something of him with her.

  Yesterday she’d called Kaleidoscope and talked with Pete Ambrose. He’d sounded genuinely sorry she was quitting, but he said he understood, though he really didn’t, certain she was nuts for moving to a small town in Montana after years in the big city. However, Rachel knew she was staying for all the right reasons. Not for Alyssa, though the baby would have a home with her for as long as she needed one. Not for Jack, either. For herself.

  Perhaps there really was no place like home. And you could go home again, if you were ready. Rachel thought she was ready. No more rat race in the world of graphic design. She’d also called Donna Hines, the children’s book editor she’d met, and been enormously pleased that the woman remembered her. She said she’d love to see her new project.

  It was a start and it was something she’d always wanted to do. The type of work she could do anywhere, really. But being back in Montana felt right. Maybe, in time, Dad would come around. She needed to make more of an effort with Max, hopefully to rekindle what they’d once had. Then there was Gina, who was turning out to be a marvelous friend. They had a lot in common. And perhaps she’d look up some of her other friends from the past, Rachel thought.

  In the spring, she’d look for a house to buy. Meanwhile, she had Alyssa and her work. She still missed Jack, but she was trying to accept his departure. She would learn in
time to be happy without him.

  Stretching out, she just got comfortable and closed her eyes when she heard a knock at the door. Thinking it was probably Gina who knew she’d had a doctor’s appointment today, Rachel got up and went to open the door.

  He stood there in a sheepskin jacket, wearing a hesitant smile, blue jeans and boots, and on his head a black Stetson. Her heart skidded and skipped before settling to a fast beat. He looked so damned good, she was speechless.

  Jack took off his hat, held it in hands none too steady. “It’s pretty cold out here. Do you think I could come in?” She was every bit as beautiful as he’d been remembering in his restless dreams. Her dark hair just brushed the shoulders of her sweater, her blue eyes were suspicious and her mouth was unsmiling. He’d change all that, he vowed.

  Rachel stepped back to let him in, then closed the door, leaning against it for support. Why had he come back? That was the big question. “Did you miss the snow? Is that why you’re back?”

  “It wasn’t the snow I missed.” He stomped the white stuff off his boots before removing his jacket. Stepping close to her, he met her unwavering stare. “It’s you. I missed you.”

  She pressed her back into the door, knowing if he touched her she’d be lost. “For how long this time, Jack?”

  She wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Forever, if you’ll have me.” He took her hand, found it stiff and unyielding. “The thing is, I have this great life in L.A., work I enjoy, a racy little sportscar, a terrific office, a beautifully decorated condo, everything I’d ever thought I wanted.” He leaned closer, still not touching anywhere but her hand. “Then I met you and it all became meaningless. I realized none of it’s any good without you. Those things, they’re the icing on the cake. But you, Rachel, you’re the cake.” He watched her eyes, saw that she was still wary, but softening a little.

  “And this came to you suddenly one morning?”

  “No. It came to me after weeks of suddenly realizing my life there is shallow, that I can’t enjoy it because there’s something missing. You.” He dared to place his hands on her waist. “You make it all come together for me, if that doesn’t sound too corny. All I did was sit around thinking, remembering all the good things we had here, the fun, the laughter. The love.” He’d played the ace card and waited.