Mother's Day Babies (Holiday Babies Series)

by Risk, Mona

  Barbara is different. Sure, she’d be the one throwing him out.

  He’d done his best to prove himself today, the way she’d expected a good husband to behave. He wanted to surprise her and have her meet him halfway. She’d been surprised all right. Not that it made a difference in her feelings.

  Patience, my friend. He’d wait for her to change her mind. Even if it killed him. After kissing her and feeling her melting in his arms, he couldn’t stand the idea of touching another woman. Stop thinking about her kisses or you’ll end up with more cold showers and a dose of bronchitis.

  His phone ring interrupted his musing. Barbara needed him. He skidded to the night table and picked up his phone.

  Bummer, it was Monte Damon. Now, at 11 pm. “Roland speaking.”

  “Lou, I need you here tomorrow first thing…”

  Lou listened and nodded. Going back to work a day early would do his rattled nerves a world of good. He was losing his identity around Barbara, his daughter, and his adorable grandsons. Not that he minded being needed and helpful, or holding the little scamps.

  Now that Barbara had mentioned it, he could see a lot of himself in Monica. He’d even smiled at her last impudence. Taking a picture of him and Barbara feeding the babies and threatening him with blackmail while calling him Dad. Strange, but at that moment, he’d wanted to hug her for snapping a picture he’d always treasure.

  He booked his ticket, packed his suitcase, and scrolled through his Paris pictures. Bitterness faded away at the sight of Barbara’s smile. He contemplated the many photos with her in his arms and smiled. They made a great couple. She was the right height and fitted perfectly against his chest. He trailed her features, delicious mouth. Such a pretty neck. Hmm, and her cleavage, and… Damn it, he needed a cold shower right away.

  In the morning, Lou called Barbara from the plane and explained the situation. “Monte Damon has secured an interview with the Prime Minister of Israel. We have a big meeting at the office today and some arrangements to make during the rest of the week. I’ll be leaving soon.”

  “Ah. Be careful, Lou. The situation is unstable there.”

  He smiled at her concern. “Don’t worry. The security is great too. How are my daughter and grandsons?”

  “We had a good night. Feeding at midnight, then at 3 am, and then at 6 am,” she said in a resigned tone, accepting the inevitable.

  “You call that good?”

  “Well, they ate every three hours instead of every two hours, and slept in between. So Monica and I slept too. Thanks for the handywoman. She knocked on the door at nine and said she was recommended by the janitor at your request.”

  “Oh yes, I should have told you last night, but I didn’t want to wake you in case you were already asleep. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye… I mean to say bye before leaving.”

  “Actually it’s better like this,” she said with a weak voice. “I’ll miss you, Lou. Don’t forget to call, please.”

  “Of course, sweetheart.”

  He called her again as the plane landed in Atlanta. And again when he reached his office.

  Things were going great. He didn’t have to worry with Barbara captaining the little ship.

  ****

  Barbara clutched her bottle of water with both hands. In spite of the continuous reassurances she’d fed Lou in the last five days, things were not going well at all. The babies had developed rashes which wasn’t surprising considering their clothes were washed in a public launderette and not ironed to kill germs.

  Baby Lou’s colic had kept him awaken two nights in a row. Barbara rocked him in her arms for hours. She’d sent her handywoman to the pharmacy twice to get her the right medicine and finally fired her and ran downstairs to get it herself. For the last three days, she’d done her own errands while the babies napped, darting from one aisle to the other at the local supermarket.

  Monica wouldn’t stop crying and whining that she’d been lumbered with more than she’d bargained for. Then she spent an hour on the phone complaining to a friend about life unfairness while Barbara fed the babies.

  Sleeping on the uncomfortable sofa gifted Barbara with a back ache that threatened to develop into a permanent problem.

  “Mom, why don’t you come home?” Heather urged on the phone. “We miss you.”

  Finally, Barbara related the whole Monica’s story and swore Heather to secrecy. “You know, sweetie. You’re right. I’m losing my sanity and my back here. Plus, I don’t feel safe in this neighborhood.”

  “Monica, I’ve decided to go home,” she told the weepy mommy after she hung up with Heather.

  “Home? As in Kentucky?” Monica stopped crying and glared. “So you, too, are abandoning me, Mrs. Ramsey?”

  Barbara snorted. Now she was the recipient of Monica’s insolence, or rather insecurity. “No, sweetheart, I’m taking you and the babies with me. Tomorrow I’ll rent a van and we’ll drive to Kentucky right away. How would you like to live in my big house in Lexington?”

  Monica opened big eyes and then bit her lip. “Nothing really keeps me here. I came to live in New York because the Morevs insisted I should stay in the same city as them. I’d love to live with you, Mom. Your daughters won’t mind?”

  “Three of them are married and have their own places. Only Claire and Tiffany still have their rooms in the family house. But Claire works in San Francisco for now. Tiffany is your age. You’ll get along well.” And Tiffany would be a great role model for Monica.

  “Won’t the babies’ noise bother her?”

  “You’ll have to do your part and take care of your babies now that you’re almost recovered from the c-section.”

  “Mom, I promise I’ll do everything to be an easy guest.” Her gaze implored and her palms rose, waving around her. “I hate this apartment, this area, and New York. I can’t believe I’ll live in a real home, with a real family. It’s what I’ve dreamed of for my sons.” She closed her eyes. Big tears rolled on her cheeks. “Thank you for giving me another chance. Can I pack? When are we leaving?”

  Chapter Twelve

  “You’ve what?” Lou stormed on the other end of the line. “Barbara, are you trying to give me a heart attack? You can’t just drive for sixteen hours or more by yourself, with constant stops to feed the babies,” he ranted without giving her a chance to answer.

  “Don’t worry, Lou. It’s not the first time I’ve driven a long distance.”

  “No. Absolutely not. You can’t leave tomorrow. If you want to go to Lexington, wait two weeks, I’ll come and get you. The babies will be older.”

  “I won’t survive for two more weeks here, Lou.” She clutched the phone, restraining herself from shouting that she didn’t have to take orders from him.

  “Damn it, I knew this whole thing would turn into a mess. Barbara,” he lowered his voice, obviously struggling for self-control. “Be reasonable. I’m leaving for Israel tomorrow evening.”

  “So? What has my driving got to do with your trip?”

  “I can’t travel if I’m worried about you. I can’t carry an interview as important as this one when my mind is preoccupied with your driving on the road for hours.”

  “Calm down, Lou. We won’t drive for more than three hours at a time. We’ll stop for restroom breaks and baby-feeding, and if we can’t make it in one day, we’ll sleep in a motel on the way. Good luck with your interview.”

  She heard his damn it, woman, and the line shut.

  “Dad is upset?” Monica asked with a curious smile.

  “He’s worried about us on the road.” Barbara hesitated and threw a jaundiced glance at the sofa. “My back can’t take it here any longer.”

  “Why haven’t you said something? Tonight you sleep on the bed, and I’m sleeping here on the sofa. Especially if you plan to drive.”

  Barbara rubbed the small of her back. “Thank you, sweetie. I’ll take your offer. Let me call for a rental car.”

  An hour later, she had everything
arranged. The van would be delivered the next morning at 8 am. Meanwhile, Monica had packed the baby clothes and the few items that fitted her in her only suitcase. “Tomorrow we’ll carry down the baby car seats, bassinets, and the changing table top. And of course the diapers, wipes, and a few bottles. Anything else?”

  “No, we can buy the rest in Lexington. Heather has plenty of baby stuff to give you and she’ll be happy to go shopping with you.”

  “Shopping?” Monica’s eyes opened wide. “I haven’t been shopping for years.”

  “Okay, Monica, I’m going to bed. You take care of the feedings tonight.” They wheeled the bassinets out to the living room. Barbara sprawled on the bed and stretched her aching back with relief. Soon she drifted off.

  The knock on the door startled her. Who on Earth could be knocking at midnight?

  With pain she slowly sat and shuffled to the living room. Sitting crossed-legged on the sofa, with two pillows on her lap, Monica breastfed both babies at the same time, each heartily latching on a breast. Fear froze her gaze. She covered her breasts with a diaper and she whispered, “Someone’s at the door. What should we do?”

  Barbara stiffened and heaved a deep breath. “Just a minute, my husband is coming,” she said with a loud firm voice.

  “Open the door, Barbara. It’s me, Lou.”

  “Lou, oh my God! You came all the way.” She snatched the door open and threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheeks, his throat, his lips.

  He kicked the door closed behind him and crushed his mouth on hers. And she responded. Boy did she respond. What a wonderful feeling. She was back in his arms where she belonged.

  He finally released her and cradled her face between his palms. She scanned his mussed hair, shadowed eyes, and eighteen-hour stubble. “You look so tired.”

  “This kiss made it all worthwhile.” His smile brightened his face and her heart. “I couldn’t stand the idea of you driving for hours after your sleepless nights on this lousy sofa. How are my daughter and her little rascals?”

  “We’re doing great, Dad. So glad to have you back here.” Monica stared at them with an ecstatic smile, the two bundles dozing in the crooks of her elbows.

  “I missed you all.” Lou kissed his daughter’s forehead and studied the babies. “They’re getting so big. You’re doing a great job.” Monica beamed at his compliment. “Barbara, you need a good night’s rest. Do you want to come and sleep at the hotel?”

  “I’m fine, Lou. Monica insisted I use her bed tonight. You should go and rest if you’re going to drive tomorrow. The van will be delivered at eight.”

  “I’ll be here on time,” he assured her.

  “I’m sorry about your important interview. I didn’t think you’d dump it for us.” She probed into eyes which spoke of tenderness and warmth more eloquently than his words. “Is that going to cause you problems?”

  “Actually, things went smoother than I expected. The PM sounded relieved not to have the interview tomorrow. He postponed our meeting until May.” Lou raked his hair. The familiar gesture brought a smile to her lips.

  “Go rest, Lou. You need your sleep too.”

  Barbara walked him to the door and willingly moved into his arms for a last goodnight kiss. This past week had confronted her with more heartaches than she’d faced in years. Her whole philosophy of life and love needed a thorough analysis.

  ****

  A stab of guilt speared Lou as he took a last tour of the small apartment. His daughter had lived here under the worst conditions, pregnant, tired, pinching pennies and without any loving support. The Morevs didn’t qualify as supportive friends. They used her and dumped her when she didn’t suit their purposes.

  “Monica, I’ve already stowed the suitcases and babies’ things in the van. Do you want any of this furniture?”

  “Not really.” The young woman hardly glanced around the room. “I’d rather forget about this place. But what will happen to the furniture?”

  “I’ll call a charitable organization and tell them to pick it up. There’s nothing valuable here.” He too would rather forget the nightmare his daughter had faced for years with her mother and then on her own.

  Lou cast a loving look at the two blue bundles quietly waiting in their car seats set on the cocktail table. “Ready, little buddies?” He waved a hand in front of the babies.

  Baby Chris’s tiny mouth opened on a funny shriek and Baby Lou threw up his own hand to try to catch his grandfather’s fingers. These adorable midgets carried his family name and would inherit his fortune. Devotion for his little grandsons overwhelmed him. Tears tickling his eyes, Lou pledged they would receive the care and education their mother had missed. “Hey, we understand each other already. Look at that, Barbara.”

  “I think they are telling you: ‘Enough goofing, Grandpa. It’s getting late.’ They had their breakfast and they are all dressed and as ready as can be.”

  “Well, in that case, no need to waste time.” He clasped his daughter’s shoulders. “Monica sweetie, you’re turning the page today.” Emotion clogged his throat. “I want you to know…”

  Monica smiled and kissed him on the cheek—the first sign of affection she’d ever given him. “Thanks for coming to New York, Dad, and for helping me keep my sons. I won’t forget it.”

  Unable to utter another word, he pressed her against him in a tender hug. “We have Barbara to thank for helping us appreciate each other.” He let her go and turned to the woman who had invaded his heart and his life. “Ready to go, darling?”

  “More than ready.” She grabbed her handbag. “Monica, bring the big blue bag, and don’t forget to lock the door behind us.”

  Lou stepped out of the apartment, a car seat with a precious occupant in each hand. “I already told the janitor we are leaving. They can rent the place as soon as the furniture is removed. I’ll strap and secure the babies’ seats so that they face you, Monica.”

  A moment later, Monica climbed into the back seat and settled between her kids. Barbara had already buckled herself in the passenger seat. Lou slid into the driver seat and heaved a deep breath. “I feel much better now having you out of that place.” He revved the engine, adjusted the GPS and whistled joyfully as he took off.

  Ten minutes later, he cursed the New York morning rush hour. Everyone remained quiet. Even the babies respected his concentration on the horrendous traffic. Lou maintained five miles above the speed limit as the van crossed Manhattan, navigated the suspension bridge, and raced along the highway. Imagine if poor Barbara had to fight her way through that chaos.

  “Charming, we look like a real family going on vacation,” Monica blurted as the traffic lightened and Lou left the outskirts of New York.

  “Yeah, isn’t it?” Funny that his daughter had just expressed the thought playing in his mind. He glanced at Barbara expecting her to concur and elaborate. Lips pressed together, she shrugged and surveyed the scenery.

  “Is something wrong?” He threw her a sideways look, in an effort to assess her mood.

  “I’m just sleepy.” Her clipped tone surprised him.

  “Then try to sleep,” Monica suggested. “I’ll do the same.”

  “Good idea. Have a nap while your babies are quiet,” Barbara ordered and closed her eyes.

  Something was definitely wrong. Had she been upset by Monica’s comment about real family? Why? He liked the idea of surrounding himself with the people dearest to his heart and enjoying a day without stress.

  When he’d finish his coming business trip and important interview, he’d try to organize his schedule differently and dedicate some free time every month to go to Kentucky and immerse himself into Barbara’s family atmosphere. Wasn’t it the reason he’d invited her to Paris in the first place?

  He threw a quick glance to his right. Barbara wasn’t sleeping. Just staring straight ahead. “You didn’t nap?”

  “No. I have too much on my mind.” She turned her head toward the backseat and he checked his rearview
mirror. Monica’s head leaned on the side of one of the infant’s car seats. Mother and babies were deep asleep.

  “What’s bothering you?” he gently probed. “Can I help?”

  Her lips curled to one side. His stretched in a pout.

  “You can confide in your best friend. Am I the one giving you a headache?”

  She chuckled. “Not on purpose.”

  “Let’s make a deal, darling. Accept me as I am, please. My withered heart can’t change overnight and my wary mind fears anything that threatens that weak organ.”

  “Your heart weak? More like rusty,” she blurted and they both laughed.

  A wail alerted them that there were more important priorities than their psychological evaluation of each other. Soon the feeble cry turned into deafening shrieks echoing from both sides of the car.

  “The kids are hungry and my breasts hurt. Dad, you’ve been driving for three hours. We absolutely need to stop,” Monica’s sleepy voice ordered over her babies’ cries.

  “Tell them to calm down. I’m taking the first exit.”

  Was he condemned to put up with baby cries every time he went somewhere with Barbara? In Paris, he had to accept Roxanne’s twins as chaperones and now his own grandsons.

  “Okay, I’m stopping at this fast-food joint. You can go down, Monica.”

  “No, you go down, Dad. I’m feeding my babies right here and I want privacy.” She’d already unbuttoned her top.

  “Okay, okay.” He huffed and climbed out. “Let’s go inside. I can use a strong coffee,” Lou said as he stretched his back.

  “You go, Lou. I can’t leave her alone while she breastfeeds.” Barbara stood guard her back to the windows and surveyed the surroundings.

  “The windows are tinted. You can’t see inside.”

  She shook her head. “Still, she may need help when she’s done. You go and bring me a coffee when you’re done.”

  Baby business wasn’t much different from business at work. A good employee must learn the company policy before he gives a suggestion, he always instructed his new hires. Why couldn’t he follow his own regulations and learn baby business before he opened his stupid mouth?