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 tha
n 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.”
“If he can convince a woman to reproduce.”
Garrick’s smile disappeared. “That’s a low blow, man.”
“Cheer up. You were a hot commodity back in college. You just need to dust off your old player skills and jump back into the game.”
“Thanks for the pointers.”
“Anytime.”
The doorbell rang.
Garrick stood and headed for the door. “But Tamara’s right. I’ll have my turn one day. Hopefully sooner than later.”
Orlando and Tamara glanced at each other with knowing smiles.
“Is there something you want to tell us, bro?” Orlando shouted after him. “Do you have a bun in the oven somewhere?”
Garrick opened the door and then jumped back as a hysterical Leila breezed through.
“I can’t do this! I can’t do this!” She thrust Emma into his arms. “Here. If this is a woman thing, I’m missing a few genes.”
“What—?”
“I can’t fix a bottle…. I can’t even warm a jar of food—a damn jar.”
Garrick turned the child away from her. “We’ve been over this. Watch your language!” He stroked the child’s back and she immediately quieted down.
Leila’s eyes narrowed as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “Since you know so much, you take care of her.”
A stunned Tamara and Orlando inched into the foyer.
“Bro?”
Tamara folded her arms. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Garrick turned and then followed their wide stares. “Oh, no. She’s not…We’re not…This isn’t what it looks like.”
Chapter 5
Leila felt like an ass.
“You have company,” she said, pointing out the obvious and backing toward the door. “I—I’m sorry.” She reached for Emma while a tidal wave of embarrassment crashed within her.
Garrick stepped back as his eyebrows rose in surprise and in amusement. “Apology accepted.” He faced his family again. “I’ll be right back.”
Tamara’s eyes darted between her brother-in-law and Leila. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, no.” Garrick gestured Leila toward the door. “This will only take a moment. Just tell Omara I’ll be right back.” He followed his neighbor across the threshold and closed the door behind them.
Once alone on the front porch, Leila slumped against the white colonial column. “This day couldn’t possibly get any worse.”
“I take it you weren’t able to find anyone to help you?”
“It’s Christmas. Everyone I know is out of town or just cruelly avoiding my phone calls,” she complained, warding off tears. After a long, sidelong glance, she couldn’t discern if he thought she was a raving lunatic or not. Then again, why wouldn’t he?
“Look, about earlier—”
“Forget about it.” He smiled and glanced down at the sleeping baby nestled against his chest. “Looks like your little angel is knocked out.”
“Angel? Try devil.” Leila chuckled. “She hasn’t stopped screaming since you left.”
“Ah, poor thing,” he said as he descended the front stairs.
Leila’s gaze followed and took note of his strong shoulders, broad back and his cute butt. “Not bad,” she mumbled.
Garrick glanced back over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
She blinked. “Oh. Yes, I’m right behind you.”
Tamara and
Orlando crowded together at the window by the front door. “What do you think is going on?” Tamara whispered.
“I have no idea, but did you see her hair?”
“Her hair?” Tamara leaned back to stare at her husband. “Surely that wasn’t the only thing you noticed?”
“Oh, you mean the baby?”
“Duh.” She popped him on the back of the head.
“What’s going on?” Omara joined them at the window, hugging two more dolls. “Where’s Uncle Garrick?”
Orlando peeked out the blinds again. “He, uh, just went to help out a neighbor. He’ll be right back.”
“Will I get to play with his baby when he comes back?”
Orlando glanced over at his wife’s smug smile. “Out of the mouths of babes.”
Now that her moment of temporary insanity had come to an end, Leila stepped out of the shower refreshed. Maybe it was all she needed to get a firm grip on her new situation. She donned her gray sweat suit and ran a brush through her hair while she blow-dried it straight. Minutes later, she descended the stairs.
“Wow. You clean up well,” Garrick complimented.
Flattered by the unexpected praise, Leila smiled as she stopped in front of him. “Where’s Emma?”
“Napping.” He smiled back and shoved his hands into his pants pockets. “I, uh, cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, made a bottle, and jotted some notes on how to warm up everything.”
A blanket of shame covered Leila. “Look, my behavior today is inexcusable.”
“There’s no need—”
“Please, let me finish.” Her lips slid wider as she gazed up at him, noticing his brown eyes were more like the color of Hershey’s Kisses. “I’m normally a sane person and I truly appreciate you for not calling a mental institution to come and pick me up. You’ve gone beyond the call of duty for a new neighbor.” She shrugged. “Thank you.”
Garrick waited, and then asked, “Is that it?”
“If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
He chuckled. “You don’t owe me anything,” he assured and turned toward the door. “I was happy to help. If there’s something I forgot to write down, I’m just across the street.”
Though his words were kind, Leila couldn’t help but feel a chill—a distance.
She’s My Baby Page 3
