The Baby Consultant

by Anne Marie Winston

  Randy and Gloria had loved the little scrap of life with every fiber of their beings; he’d heard it in Randy’s voice when he’d called to share the news of Alexa’s birth. He, Jack, could do no less. He still got choked up when he thought about his brother and his wife. One week, they’d been celebrating Alexa Dianne Ferris’s birth. The next, they were dead and Lex was an orphan.

  Sometimes life really sucked.

  He was still chewing on the baby-sitter problem when he arrived at Frannie’s house an hour later. As he stood on the doorstep, he decided to widen his search—

  The door swung open and Frannie appeared before him. “Hi.”

  She was wearing casual clothing, a denim skirt short enough to show him those legs he spent way too much time dreaming of. With it, she’d paired a snug-fitting shortsleeved sweater that clung to her shoulders, blossomed over her breasts, nipped in at her waist and lovingly settled over the beginning curves of her slender hips. He’d die a happy man if he were that lucky sweater.

  “Hi,” he said, forcing himself to converse like a normal human being. Which he knew he was because his body was telling him so in no uncertain terms. It was going to be a long evening.

  She had prepared chicken shish kabobs, which were just about the best thing he’d ever tasted. Marinated, she explained, to give them flavor. She asked him a question about his business and they spent most of the meal discussing various forms of advertising.

  Afterward, she rose and began to clear the table. Lex was happy for the moment in her seat, so he helped, scraping plates and loading the dishwasher while she washed pots and pans.

  . “You’re pretty good at this,” she observed.

  “Necessity. I’ve lived alone for a long time.”

  “I haven’t.” She paused reflectively, then shrugged her shoulders. “It’s certainly much easier to keep the house clean, but I miss the sounds of other people. Do you know what I mean?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I was used to it before, but if Lex wasn’t there now, I’d think the place was a tomb. Speaking of whom—” He glanced over at the baby, waving her fists diligently in the infant seat. “I hate to eat and run, but I’d better get going. This is about the time she usually gets her bath.”

  “If you like, I could bathe her for you. I have some mild skin cleanser that would be safe.” Her eyes were eager and he grinned.

  “You just want to get your hands on my baby, don’t you?”

  She smiled back, holding up her arms in mock surrender. “I confess.” As she lifted Lex out of the seat and cradled her in her arms, she said, “There is nothing in the world quite as wonderful as the feel and smell and sight of a baby.”

  He was still thinking about the blissful look on her face ten minutes later while he caught the news. She had insisted he relax for a few minutes, and truthfully, he was grateful.

  In the kitchen, her telephone rang. She was in the bathroom with the baby, and he knew she couldn’t hear it. Her machine could pick it up. After a ten-second debate with himself, he rose and went to answer it.

  “Hello?”

  “Who’s this?” The male voice was clearly startled and less than happy.

  “This is Jack Ferris. Who’s this?”

  “I must have a wrong number.” The note in the man’s tone became apologetic.

  “If you’re calling Frannie Brooks, you’ve got the right one. Can I tell her who’s calling?”

  “Where is she?” The guy really sounded disgruntled now, and apparently he had no intention of giving Jack his name.

  Well, two could do this dance. “Frannie’s got her hands full at the moment—” literally “—but I can take a message.”

  “No. I need to talk to her.” The man didn’t sound happy at all to find he had competition. Jack could sympathize—he hadn’t known Frannie had another man in her life. But when it came right down to it, he didn’t know very much at all about her. It was a state of affairs he intended to correct.

  Frannie came down the stairs, carrying Alexa wrapped in a big towel. The infant was squawking; he knew she hated to be taken out of her bath. “Who is it?” She approached the phone and Jack switched receiver for child with her.

  Jack shrugged. “A man. He wouldn’t tell me his name.” He found the pacifier, and Lex immediately lowered her volume to an occasional sucking sound as she gave the small item a good workout while he stuffed her into a sleep suit and brushed her shock of fine hair to one side.

  “Hello?... Oh, hi, Robert...Jack’s a friend and that’s not your concern.” Her voice was warm and affectionate, but he recognized a note of warning layered beneath. “So how are the twins? Tell them Aunt Frannie misses them.”

  Twins? Aunt Frannie? He suddenly felt a hundred pounds lighter. Not competition. A brother. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have any other relationships, he cautioned himself. But he couldn’t keep from grinning stupidly down at Lex, snuggled in his arms.

  “Yes, you heard a baby.” She didn’t elaborate. “The twenty-ninth? I don’t know. It’s in the middle of the week. I’m not really sure I can get away. I’m already keeping all the kids for both of you guys on the seventh, remember?”

  Another silence. This time, when she spoke, her voice was cool. “Robert, you know the answer to that I’m just not available for baby-sitting now. My shop is doing better than I ever expected—I’m swamped with work... That’s silly. The twins are old enough to get along quite well with another baby-sitter.”

  She listened again and laughed, although to his ear, the sound was a bit strained. “You’re not talking me into it. Don’t count on me for the twenty-ninth. I have to go. I love you. ’Bye.”

  He heard the little beep, which signaled she had disconnected practically before the farewell was out of her mouth.

  “Brothers.” She shook her head and set down the hand unit with a noticeable thump. He noticed she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, as if she were making an effort to contain her temper. After a moment her shoulders relaxed and she came over to fold herself into a pretzel on the blanket where Alexa was bicycling in place.

  He was stretched out on his side with his head propped on one hand, one ankle crossed over the other. He tried to sound casual as he asked, “Problems?” He sensed that this part of her life was a key to unwrapping her reserve, at least to a degree, and he was dying to know why she’d looked as if she wanted to take a bite out of her brother.

  “Not really.” She picked up a two-inch sock that had come off Alexa’s foot and replaced it, wrestling with the vigorously moving little limbs. “The boys can’t get used to the fact that I’ve actually started a successful business.” Then she glanced at him across the blanket, and the sweet smile she tossed his way wiped all coherent thought from his head, stirring the male longing he’d kept under wraps since she’d opened the door. “Robert shifted into interrogation mode when he heard you and Lex. I won’t be surprised if he wants a copy of your medical records, your birth certificate and your rabies vaccination.”

  “Protective sort, is he?”

  She laughed. “Any man I speak to is a candidate for marriage. The two older boys consider it their duty to keep an eye on me.”

  Marriage. Her words shocked him more than they should have. He was unsettled by the wave of possessiveness that rolled through him at the thought of her marrying some other man. “I take it they’ve tried to marry you off.”

  A shadow passed across her expression. “Unsuccessfully.” Then she smiled. “I think they’re afraid I’m going to be an old maid.”

  He grinned at her wry tone. “Hardly. How old are you?”

  She looked startled. “That’s not an acceptable question for a gentleman to ask a lady.” She smiled, and a dimple flashed in her cheek. “But since I’m not sensitive about it...I’m thirty-two.”

  Now he was the one who was startled. He’d figured she was somewhere around twenty-five or twenty-six. Obviously she’d left out a few details in her life history. He did a little quick math.
If she’d only started her business a year ago, and she’d gone to the standard four-year college, that meant she hadn’t even started higher education until she was twenty-seven. What had happened to her twenties?

  “I didn’t mean to shock you speechless.”

  He recognized that slightly defensive look in her eyes. If he questioned her directly, she’d evade him. He made up his mind to ask Deirdre to spill everything she knew about Frannie the next time he saw her. “You didn’t. I was just thinking that I wish I were thirty-two again, instead of thirty-five.”

  “Yes, thirty-five is so-o much older than thirty-two.”

  “Ha, ha.” He reached over and tweaked her nose. “If I were thirty-two, I’d still have three more years to play lacrosse.”

  “You’re quitting after this year?”

  He grimaced. “I prefer the term, ‘retiring.’ I’ve been playing since I was a kid.”

  “If you still enjoy it, why are you qu—retiring?”

  It was a hard question to answer, and his response was slow. He put his hand over Alexa’s stomach, absently noting the contrast between his huge paw and her fragile baby bones. “Several reasons. First of all, it takes up too much of my time now that I have a child. I want to be there when she’s awake, when she takes her first step, and starts jabbering away. Second, now that I have Lex I can’t afford broken bones. Lacrosse is one of the roughest contact sports in the world.” He shot her a rueful grin. “I want to get out while I’m still the one delivering the contact. And the third reason is that I’d have to find a baby-sitter several times a week for the whole season. Even longer if we go to the championships. I’m having a hard enough time finding someone to watch her during the day.”

  She was nodding. “Good reasons.”

  “Speaking of baby-sitting...relax. I’m not trying to talk you into anything.”

  She had drawn back and was frowning at him as if she expected him to ask her to keep Alexa again. At his final words she smiled. “Sorry.”

  He told her about his difficulty finding a day care setting he was happy with, about how many people he’d interviewed and how many places he’d visited. “Maybe it’s me,” he said finally. “Maybe I’m being too picky.”

  Frannie shook her head, and he was momentarily distracted by the silky fall of her dark hair sliding against her cheek. “You can’t be too careful about your child care provider,” she said. “If you feel uncomfortable with someone or someplace, trust your instincts. Women don’t have a corner on intuition, you know.”

  “The trouble is that my instincts warn me about everybody.”

  She laughed. “There are some wonderful people out there. Keep looking.”

  “I’ll have to. This can’t happen fast enough.”

  “Taking her to your office isn’t working?”

  He felt his good spirits deflating. “That’s an understatement. My office manager doesn’t do babies.”

  Frannie licked her lips, and though he was certain she wasn’t even aware she’d done it, the sight of that small pink tongue sent a serious surge of blood coursing through his body. He had to concentrate to remember what he was talking about.

  “Lex seems to have a knack for fussing during my most important client meetings. I wish I could make it work, but I can see it’s only going to get more and more difficult as she gets livelier.”

  Frannie nodded. “You’re right about that.”

  Silence fell between them for a moment, then Frannie began talking to Alexa. Lex’s little mouth worked, as if she were trying to mimic the motions, then her face crinkled into a wide, toothless grin and she squawked.

  Frannie was delighted. “She smiled at me!” She was bent over the baby, and he swept his gaze over the graceful curve of her back. The urge to reach out and lay his hand along her spine was almost irresistible. To slide his palm beneath the short sweater and indulge himself in her soft, silky skin, to simply feel the life in her, warm and vital under his hand.

  But he knew any such action would send her dancing backward ten paces in their relationship. To get his mind off her body, he blurted out the first thought that came to mind. “So why haven’t you married? You’re great with kids.”

  She straightened, slowly taking her hands away from the baby, and the animation that had played across her face a moment ago went out like a birthday candle being extinguished with a single breath. “That’s exactly why I haven’t married,” she said in a dull, quiet tone.

  What did she mean by that cryptic comment? He was about to question her further when she rose and picked up their empty iced-tea glasses, carrying them to the kitchen, where he heard ice rattling into the sink, followed by the dishwasher opening and closing. A hint that the evening was over.

  “Frannie?” He rose, too, and followed her. Meeting her in the doorway, he deliberately kept his tone light. “I didn’t mean to ruin the party. Can we just erase that last question from the computer logs?”

  She made an effort to smile, and he pretended he didn’t see what an effort it was. “I’m sorry. You hit a nerve.”

  He forced a hearty laugh. “Sorry. I was just making conversation. Tell me about your brothers...if that’s a safe topic.”

  “It’s safe.” She tucked her hair behind one ear. “What do you want to know?”

  “What was it like, raising three little brothers? Didn’t it cramp your style?”

  She considered the question. “I didn’t think so at the time because I didn’t know anything different. Looking back, I’d have to say I probably missed out on a lot of the fun, silly things most teenage girls do.” She shrugged and smiled, looking at Alexa. “I’d do it again the same way, though.”

  “I know you told me you didn’t go to college right away, but what did you do with your brothers when you finally started school?”

  “I didn’t.” Her tone was so flat it startled him.

  This sounded like a conversation that was going to get intense, so he deliberately phrased an outrageous question to lighten the atmosphere. “So that framed diploma on the wall of your workroom is a lie?”

  “Of course not!” Too late, she saw his smile. “I did go to school. Just not right away. And did you know that you’re a terrible snoop?”

  He grinned. “You just had to sneak that in there, didn’t your?”

  She pulled her face into exaggerated lines of mock seriousness. “I apologize profusely.”

  “I accept.” He looked down at Lex, who had fallen asleep in his arms. “Looks like somebody winked out. I suppose I’d better get her home to her own little bed.”

  “Yes.” She glanced at the clock over the sink. “I hate to have to throw you out, but it’s getting late and I have a big day tomorrow.”

  “No problem. I am nothing if not flexible.” He turned toward the living room and began gathering up the baby’s items. “And you’re right. It’s getting late for us, too.”

  Ten minutes later he was out the door and heading for home, with Lex snoozing in her infant seat behind him. It had been an educational evening in more ways than one, he mused. He’d learned that Frannie was fiercely protective of her privacy, even with her family. And he knew there was a huge unexplained chunk of time that she hadn’t mentioned in her past—a time when she was...doing what? He’d find that out another time, he promised himself, smiling a little. But the smile died half-born as he recalled the way the evening had ended. She was so good with Lex, and she seemed to enjoy her so much that he’d assumed she wanted kids of her own some day.

  But it was looking pretty certain that liking them and wanting her own were two very different things in her head.

  And, of course, that was fine with him. He enjoyed spending time with Frannie, but it wasn’t like he was planning to many her. Although it was true he had thought about marriage again since Lex had come along, it was still an amorphous cloud of half-formed ideas in his head. He sure wasn’t taking applications yet. No, when he spoke wedding vows again, it would be solely to secure a goo
d mother for Lex, perhaps someone who would give him a child or two of his own, a companion who had a life of her own that would mesh with his without demanding anything more than warm friendship and physical intimacy. Lannette had shown him how foolish it was to need a woman; he didn’t have to be shown twice how stupid he’d been.

  She’d done him a favor when she left, though he hadn’t seen it that way at the time. He’d considered marriage to be a permanent state, and even though his had some serious cracks in its outwardly smooth surface, he’d have stayed married—miserable, but married—for the rest of his life. Lannette had taken that choice from him, and in doing so, had given him a second chance.

  Somewhere out there was a woman who fit the requirements he’d realized were necessary in a marriage for him. Fidelity, maternal instincts and compatibility, that was clearly what he wanted in a wife. Eventually. When the time was right he’d start looking for her. And she didn’t have to have shiny brown hair, wide eyes and great legs.

  Of course she didn’t.

  Three days later Frannie’s phone rang. She had a mouthful of pins and both hands full, fabric in one hand and scissors in the other, as she bias-cut a beautiful ivory watered silk destined to become an elegant suit for a divorcée who wanted to look lovely but not virginal as she made her second sojourn to the altar.

  She scowled at the telephone and decided not to answer it. Let the machine get it, she told herself. It’s probably Donald or Robert calling to check up on you. She continued to cut, studiously ignoring each ring, although curiosity and good manners made it difficult for her to resist. What was it about the trill of a telephone that made one hustle to answer it? Was it just her, or did other people have to steel themselves to keep from snatching up the phone? Each time the phone rang, a whole host of possibilities arose.