by Nikki Duvall
“How come they didn’t take him away? The cops. How come they left him here with you?”
Halee shrugged. “They sent Bobby. He knew Social Services was on the way over.”
“They’re coming tonight?”
“I told him I’d wait thirty minutes at the office, and then he could find me here.”
“Good for you.”
Halee put Ty down on a blanket she’d spread over the worn carpet and sighed. “What am I gonna do, Rita?”
“Give him back, that’s what you’re gonna do.”
“To whom? Someone who leaves him cold and soaked in urine in a downtown building? He’s lucky I stopped in. He could have been there until Monday morning without food or water. He could have died.”
“He didn’t die, Halee. He’s fine. He’s going to be fine. I called Frank.”
“What for?”
“Because you need a lawyer.”
“Not Frank.”
“You can barely feed yourself and you’re turning down a pro bono attorney. Frank’s a jerk but he’s a good attorney.”
“I’m just afraid of what you have to do to make it up to him.”
“So I’ll bake him his favorite lasagna. I had him draw up temporary custody papers, just in case. I still think you should give him back.”
Halee sighed. “I love this child, Rita. I can’t stand the thought of giving him back.”
Rita rubbed Halee’s arm. “You might have to, Hun. You want to catch a shower? I’ll watch the kid.”
Halee looked like she wanted to cry. “You would do that?”
“Of course!”
“I’ll be quick, I swear.” She backed slowly from the room. Ty screamed in protest. She hesitated.
“Just go,” said Rita, pushing her toward the shower. “You give in now, you’ll never be able to put him down.”
Halee’s face twisted with guilt.
“Go!”
She turned and ran toward the bathroom. In another minute she stood under the hottest water the old plumbing would deliver and tried to forget for one minute that someone had left her a baby to raise.
Halee hadn’t been in the shower more than five minutes when the doorbell rang. Rita peered through the peephole at a short dark haired man in a raincoat holding a clipboard.
She opened the door.
The man peered past her and did a quick assessment of the situation. “Social Services.”
“Yeh, I figured. Let me see some i.d.”
Sanchez held up the badge at the end of a lanyard hanging from his neck without making eye contact, walked past Rita and stopped by the blanket.
“This is the child?”
“Yup.”
He took out his clipboard and began marking a checklist, circling the child like a statue in a museum. “Age?”
“How do I know?” asked Rita. “I just got here.”
“You are?”
Rita crossed her arms. “A friend.”
Sanchez grunted.
“You gonna find his mother?”
“Who is his mother?”
“I figured you might recognize him. I’m pretty sure his mother uses your services.”
“What services?”
“You know. Food stamps, that kind of shit.”
“I don’t do food stamps,” said Sanchez, making another mark on his form.
The doorbell rang again. Rita peered through the peephole and broke into a grin. She flung the door wide open.
“Well, look who’s here! I thought you were gone to New York.”
“Pert near.” J.D. stuck his head in the door. “How you been, Rita?” He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Damn, you smell nice. What’s that, Armani or something?”
J.D. shrugged. “Some stuff they put in the locker room. Halee home?”
“Her and half of Chicago. Sunflowers!” she exclaimed. “Halee’s favorite. I’ll put them in water.”
Sanchez approached. “You are?”
“Shaw.” He extended his hand. “J.D. Shaw.”
Sanchez squeezed his hand as hard as he could. “The baseball player,” he said with the most enthusiasm he’d displayed all evening.
“That’s right.”
“You live here?”
J.D. hesitated. “No…”
“You are Halee McCarthy’s boyfriend?”
“I didn’t catch your name,” said J.D., glancing between Sanchez and Ty.
“Ricardo Sanchez, Social Services. You want to adopt a baby with Miss McCarthy?”
“No, he does not.” J.D. turned and watched as Halee strolled toward him, her wet hair wrapped high in a pink towel. She’d dressed in a Cubs tee shirt and a pair of jogging shorts, her long legs still glistening with beads of water. The look on her face spelled trouble.
J.D.’s jaw slackened. A line of sweat beads formed on his forehead. His mouth curled at the corners.
“Maybe he does,” Rita suggested with a smirk.
“What in the world are you doing here?” muttered Halee.
“We need to talk,” said J.D.
“I’m busy right now.”
J.D. glanced at the baby. “So it seems.”
“It’s about time you showed up,” she said, turning toward Sanchez. “Ty was hungry and cold three hours ago. Seems to me you make a living refusing to do your job.”
“You are not my only case, Miss McCarthy.”
“Heaven help us.”
J.D. moved to the kitchen for a better view. So Halee had the fight in her, after all. This was a side of her he hadn’t seen before, and he wasn’t complaining. He didn’t know who this Sanchez fellow was, but he didn’t seem like he had good intentions. And it looked like he’d met his match.
“The baby goes with me,” said Sanchez. “Sign here.”
Halee pulled the form from Sanchez’s clipboard and slowly tore it in half, keeping her eyes glued on his. “Over my dead body.”
J.D. grinned.
“That’s a federal offense.”
“I doubt it. Besides, the boys in blue were already here. They said I could keep him.”
Rita stepped forward and shoved a piece of paper into Sanchez’s chest. “My lawyer drew up temporary custody papers. The baby stays here.”
Sanchez muttered something, and then reached for Ty. Ty screamed.
“Don’t touch him!” Halee tried to pull Ty from Sanchez’s arms. The pink towel fell from her head, allowing a mass of unruly damp curls to spill out onto her shoulders.
“He goes with me. This apartment is not suitable!”
J.D. stepped forward, inserting himself between Sanchez and Halee. “Halee, stop,” he said in a calming voice. “You’re going to hurt the baby. What’s going on here, anyway?”
Halee began to cry. “I found this baby in my office, cold and starving,” she said, clutching the child to her chest. “His mother gave him to me. This man is trying to take him away.”
J.D. turned toward Sanchez. “Is that right?”
“She failed her test.”
J.D. frowned. “What test?”
“Halee wants to adopt a kid,” said Rita. “Sanchez won’t let her.”
“She has no bedroom, no food!” cried Sanchez. “No husband, no boyfriend!”
J.D. watched Halee pace back and forth across the tiny apartment, her face streaked with tears. She held the screaming child to her chest as if she were clinging to life itself.
“She has me.”
A hush fell over the room. Sanchez peered at J.D. with suspicion. “You are the boyfriend?”
“That’s right.” J.D. focused on Halee’s beautiful face and felt his throat tighten. He fumbled with the ring box in his pocket, approaching her slowly, as if any sudden move might spook her. She stared at him warily through tired eyes and held her breath.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Baby,” he said, getting down on one knee.
Rita gasped.
“J.D., no.” Halee began to shake. Rita s
lid the baby from her arms.
“I know we agreed to wait, Honey,” said J.D., opening the ring box and carefully lifting the two carat diamond. Gently, he slid the band onto her slim finger and kissed her hand. “I know I ain’t good enough for ya.”
Halee stood speechless. J.D. rose and pulled her into his arms until she stopped shaking. “Look happy,” he whispered against her ear, lost in the smell of her hair.
Rita glared at Sanchez. “Satisfied?”
“Mr. Sanchez,” said J.D., “there must be a shortage of foster homes out there. Halee and I will take good care of Ty until the matter is settled.”
“There is paperwork…”
“Yes, I’m sure there is. I’ll call you in the morning. You can come by the penthouse and inspect all you like.”
“Penthouse?”
“North Michigan Avenue.” J.D. reached into his wallet and handed Sanchez his business card.
“My lawyer will be contacting you,” said Rita, showing Sanchez to the door.
Sanchez glanced one more time at the couple over his shoulder, mumbled something in Spanish, then retreated down the sidewalk to his car. Rita placed the infant, now on the verge of peaceful slumber, back on his blanket and slipped out behind him.
J.D. held Halee in his arms for what seemed like hours before she finally spoke. “Why did you do that?”
“The baby likes you,” said J.D. “I figured I’d help him out.”
“So the ring is for…”
“The fiancé.”
Halee wiped her eyes and chuckled, as if she’d just read the disappointing ending to a romance novel. For one moment she had hoped beyond hope…foolish, foolish girl. But this ending wasn’t up to her. The pages had already been written.
“Lies always come back to haunt you, you know. You’re heading down a slippery slope.”
“Did I lie?” J.D. nibbled on her ear, fogging her judgment.
“Just a little bit.”
“Remind me.”
“The boyfriend part, for one.”
“I reckon I could defend that statement.”
“I reckon not. One night on a boat doth no boyfriend make.”
“Some night, huh?” said J.D with a grin. “I think we should try and relive that.” He reached down to kiss her. She pushed away.
“And what about the proposal?” she said. “I thought Rita was going to have a heart attack."
His face grew soft, his eyes thoughtful. He reached up and played with a damp curl dangling over her eye. “It’s crossed my mind a time or two.”
She backed up.
He pulled her back into his arms. “Maybe we can help each other.”
“Uh uh.” She wiggled out of his embrace. “I told you, I don’t want any part of your contract scheme.” She slipped the ring from her finger and folded it into his palm. “I’d like to help you, I just…”
He took her hand and slid the heavy ring back on. “I don’t think Sanchez is through with you, Honey. You’ll need to wear this a little longer. Unless you’re done lying.”
Halee sighed and closed her eyes. “What a mess I’m in.”
“I imagine he’s worth it.”
She gazed on the sleeping child and smiled. “This is the part where you’re supposed to tell me I’m crazy to take on a child when I can barely take care of myself.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Everybody else does.”
“I ain’t everybody else. And you take care of yourself just fine.”
Halee shook her head. “What do I do now?”
“You tell me.”
“Sanchez won’t let me have him unless I get a new place to live.”
“Looks like you’re moving in.”
“Yeh, right.”
“I’m serious.”
She stood speechless for a moment. “You’d do that?”
“I’m moving to New York, remember? You’ll have the place all to yourself.”
“I can’t afford a penthouse, J.D.”
“The team owns it. I’ll tell them I need a place to stay for the rest of the season.”
“No… I can’t…”
He took her small hand and turned the diamond upward to catch the light. “It looks pretty on you,” he murmured.
Halee swallowed hard. “I didn’t expect to get a baby so soon,” she confessed. “I don’t even have a bed for him.”
“Somebody on the team will have an extra. I’ll call around tomorrow.”
Halee gazed at her knight with a soft smile. “You can fix anything, can’t you?”
He grinned. “J.D. Shaw at your service. Now go pack your things and load that baby in my car. You’re coming home with me.”
~ELEVEN~
Halee woke in the guest bedroom of the penthouse, Ty snuggled closely up against her under the thick comforter. The air conditioner was set to one degree above freezing, just the way J.D. liked it, and she and Ty had nestled together under ten inches of down, deliriously happy to have escaped the heat and humidity of Halee’s studio apartment. It had been a long time since she’d had such a restful night. Maybe it was the silence of the penthouse, the only noise the constant soft hum of the air conditioner fan, or maybe it was the fact that J.D. was sleeping right down the hall, a brawny sentinel fixed between her new baby and danger. J.D. always made her feel safe.
She dozed off again, then woke an hour later to the sound of men’s voices in the kitchen. Someone was laughing and the smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the air.
“Cat’s gonna be real mad at you, my man,” said a male voice. “You gave away the rock. You ain’t gonna get away with that.”
“Two chicks at once,” said another man. “That’s what we call a double play!”
“I’ll get the ring back,” said J.D. “This is just a temporary favor.”
“You hear that, Wiley? He thinks this is temporary.”
A third man cackled. “Hand me that wrench. Yeah, that one over there.”
“You’re thinking with your dick,” said the first man. “This chick is a survivor. She knows gold when she sees it.”
“You got it all wrong.”
“You gonna throw a baby out on the street? I didn’t think so. Help me lift this thing. There you go. Little Carlos’ crib all ready for Johnny Junior.” The men laughed again.
“Here’s a little advice from a guy who’s been around the block,” said one of the men. “Rent, don’t buy. Marriage is some kind of slow hell.”
Halee felt the first rush of adrenaline ignite her pounding chest. Survivor? Is that what J.D. thought of her? A woman out to get what she could from him, then toss him to the curb? Poor J.D. He’d underestimated his house guest. Tucking two pillows up against a slumbering Ty, she pulled a lacy robe from her suitcase and closed the door behind her.
Stopping by the guest bathroom, she combed out her hair, washed her face, and unbuttoned her pink rosebud nightgown to a dangerous level, then sprayed a bit of the perfume J.D. loved so well. “Beauty is power,” she reminded the face in the mirror. “Go show ‘em what you’ve got.”
“Good morning, Gentlemen.” Halee posed against a wall and wrapped her arms around her middle, forcing her full cleavage even higher. All laughter subsided. “How are you all doing today?”
A short dark skinned man in a Cubs hat whistled softly. A skinny blonde dressed in a muscle shirt that showed off big biceps and a farmer’s tan dropped his fork and grinned ear to ear. J.D. cleared his throat.
“Good morning, Halee,” said J.D. His face showed more than a measure of appreciation and he fumbled with the spatula in his hand. He leaned back absent-mindedly against the hot stove. “Sonofa…”
“Good morning,” mumbled the other men.
Halee sidled up to a counter stool and perched herself on top, crossing her long legs and allowing her nightgown to ride high along her naked hip. Someone sighed.
“Don’t let me interrupt your conversation,” she said with a flirty smile. “You
were saying something about J.D. thinking with his… what was it you said? Thinking with his dick?”
“I gotta run,” said the dark skinned man. “The wife has a long list waiting for me.” He waved quickly to his friends and backed down the hall to the penthouse door. “Pleasure to meet you,” he said, cocking his head around the corner to get one last glimpse of skin.
The skinny man didn’t budge. He refilled his plate and then took the chair next to hers. “Name’s Wiley,” he said, offering a work worn hand.
“Wiley Coyote,” Halee purred. She held his hand a little too long. “Trickster.”
Wiley grinned. “You might say that.”
“I take it you’re a Titan.”
Wiley nodded. “How’d you know that?”
“You have the body of an athlete, Wiley,” she said, running her fingers appreciatively over his biceps.
“Wiley,” J.D. warned.
Wiley ignored him. “Your body ain’t too bad, either, Miss.”
J.D. came around the counter and placed one hand on Wiley’s shoulder. “Got somewhere you need to be, Partner?”
“No.” Wiley continued to gaze into Halee’s emerald eyes.
J.D. squeezed a little tighter. “I think you do.”
Wiley snapped out of his trance and looked up.
“Practice?”
Something clicked in Wiley’s thick brain and he rose from his stool. “Pleasure to meet you, Ma’am,” he said with a wicked grin. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, but J.D. pulled in the other direction.
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Halee cooed.
J.D. groaned and dragged his friend to the door by the arm. She heard some hushed conversation and the door closing. J.D. returned alone.
“You want to explain yourself?” he demanded.
“Meaning?”
J.D. shook his head. “You might want to button up your nightgown.”
“You don’t like my breasts?”
He gathered up the dirty dishes and turned toward the sink. “Sanchez called this morning. He’ll be here in an hour to inspect the place.”
“No problem,” said Halee in a sultry voice, still in character. “The place looks great. We have plenty of time for other things.”
J.D. turned on the faucet to rinse the dishes.
She slipped off her stool and came up behind him. “Baby’s still asleep,” she whispered. She leaned her head against his warm back and ran her hands along his slim hips. “I’m cold.” She moved her hands lower and slid his zipper down. “You can warm me up, can’t you, J.D.?”
