Baby In A Basket

by Helen R. Myers

  “Short? It was virtually nonexistent.”

  “Because you happened to call at a bad moment for me.”

  “Join the club. In the past twenty-four hours all my moments have been bad.” No sooner were the words out than he realized he might have been speaking to more than Jenny, but as he entered the house, he saw that except for the baby, she was alone.

  He crossed to the kitchen table and leaned over the basket. His daughter was awake and gazing around the room, her blue eyes wide. Despite the tension between Jenny and him, seeing Mary again brought home all the surprise and awe that he’d felt watching her sleep last night.

  “Excuse me, but I think we need to get a few things straight,” Jenny said from behind him. “Now I am completely in sympathy with what a shock this situation has been for you. At the same time, I would appreciate it if you would remember that you got yourself into this situation by participating in unsafe sex, and that you came to me, a working woman, asking for help.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “Oh, yes, you have, buster! You pushed every button you could to make me feel sorry for you, and you had every intention of using me for your own convenience.”

  No one liked to hear the truth put so accurately, and he was no exception. “I was desperate, knocked for a loop!”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “Will you let me finish? What I was about to say is that no matter how desperate I was, I wouldn’t have left the baby with just anyone. She’s here because I trust you.”

  “Be still my heart. I still have a business to run. I had every right to do what I did in order to save my product.”

  “If you were holding Mary at that moment, would you have dropped her to take care of some jam?” he snapped.

  She drew herself erect and placed her hands on her hips. “It was chutney, you epicurean blockhead, and how dare you suggest I would hurt that child! If that’s the way you feel, why don’t you just take her and go do a better job yourself!”

  “Great idea! I will!”

  Of course their sharp voices made the baby cry, and that made Mitch feel more helpless and angry. But Jenny had punctured a hole in his pride, and he saw no way around it. His blood boiling, he snatched up the basket and stalked from the house.

  “Oh, that—Oh...” Jenny’s face crumbled into a combination wince and grimace.

  “Well, that was interesting. If you two represent today’s young people’s idea of courting, I’m glad I’m an old woman.”

  Jenny spun around to find her grandmother standing in the kitchen doorway, and in a flash her fighting spirit was back again. “Don’t group me in the same category as that...thankless man! Did you hear what he said to me?”

  “I did, and no doubt so did Agnes, Minny, and Ethel, wherever those three are nestled to discuss this afternoon’s news.”

  The mention of the town’s worst gossips didn’t faze Jenny for an instant. “I had a right to get upset. He was being insensitive and single-minded.”

  “You provoked him.”

  “I did not!”

  Fiona went to the stove and turned off the fire beneath the pot warming the baby’s formula. “I heard the whole thing, remember? Both this morning when he phoned, and just now.”

  That was the less-than-fun part about living together. Jenny never got to embellish a story, unlike her theatrical and creative kin who claimed full dibs to the right. But that didn’t mean she intended to wear the halo people kept foisting on her, either.

  “Well, I’ve been thinking about things since he dropped that bomb yesterday, and I decided I’d been too...”

  “Neighborly?” Fiona offered.

  Jenny gave her a droll look. “To say the least. The man had a baby with another woman, for pity’s sake! What was I thinking to accept that as if it were nothing?”

  “You’re absolutely right. The burn should have asked you first if it was all right.”

  “Gran.” What was with her? “This morning you thought I’d lost my mind for agreeing to help him.”

  “That was then. This is now. If you’re going to do it, then help him. Don’t play games when he’s already so confused. It’s a miracle he can concentrate on flying.”

  That went to her conscience like a laser. “I’m not playing games.” However, when her grandmother gave her a mild look, she had to acknowledge the words sounded less than truthful, even to her. She spread her arms wide. “Okay, so I hate what he’s done! Why couldn’t he have been spending all this time wanting me?”

  “Because until today he thought you were a lovely and sweet girl.”

  That sounded about as interesting as molded cheese. Nice girls stayed home. They got used. “No more vanilla ice cream for me. I’m sorry if this makes me seem impulsive and erratic to him. But I have my own self-respect to juggle.”

  “Do tell? Then you believe it’s in good taste to torment a man when he’s just been delivered the back of life’s hand?”

  “Phooey. His past caught up with him, that’s all.”

  “It’s neither your place nor your temperament to punish.”

  “Who’s punishing! Besides, if there’s one thing Mitch McCord knows how to do, it’s rebound.”

  Her grandmother crossed back to her and took hold of her hands. “Darling. I think it’s time you decide what you want. Sending the man mixed signals on top of what he’s dealing with will only make things more difficult for you. And it’ll turn him into someone less capable of commitment than before. No one asked you to pine away for the man all these years. That was your choice, just as it was yours to all but invite him to reach out to you. Now he has. What are you doing about it?”

  “I could probably think of something if you sounded more like Cinderella’s fairy godmother than Vince Lombardi.” Jenny felt an irrational urge to pout. Settling for a deep breath, she gave her grandmother a rueful look. “I did have to hang up, but...I guess I could have enjoyed it less than I did.”

  This time the older woman threw back her head and laughed. “That sounds more like you.”

  Jenny squeezed the older woman’s strong but wrinkled hands. “What do I do, Gran?”

  “Accept George Humphrey’s invitation to go to the concert he told you about in church last Sunday.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  “Just because I defended Friendly Skies doesn’t mean I’m on his side. On the contrary, I’m more convinced than ever that he’s all wrong for you.”

  “While you’re at it, would you mind noticing that George is too old for me?”

  “Age is relative.” But her grandmother could, apparently, see the stress this was causing her. “At least give the object of your obsession time to cool down. Then you can go talk to him.”

  “With my luck he won’t even answer the door.”

  “He’ll have to. He left most of the baby’s things here.”

  Including the infant’s dinner. Jenny thought of how she’d upset Mary and a new wave of chagrin swept over her. “Maybe I should go now.”

  “Later. He has food over there. Keeping himself busy with that little one is the best remedy you could ask for right now.”

  Reassured, Jenny hugged her grandmother. “For a person who doesn’t approve of him, you sure are being helpful, not to mention fair.”

  “That’s why I’m obliged to warn you that I intend to invite George to dinner soon.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, he may be too young for me, but he does have tickets to see Tony Bennett.”

  With a laugh, Jenny nodded. “Fair enough.”

  Jenny managed to delay going next door until after eight o’clock. By then her grandmother was entrenched in the living room watching her gossip shows on the TV cable channels, too preoccupied to offer any last-minute advice or peek at her from the kitchen window. Giving her freshly brushed hair a pat, Jenny slung the baby’s tote bag over her shoulder and hurried across to Mitch’s house, the skirt of her sunflower sundress flaring around her
legs.

  He didn’t respond to her knock, and she hesitated ringing the doorbell, in case the baby had already settled down for the evening. Upon trying the doorknob, she found it open, and poked her head inside.

  “Hello... Mitch?”

  Seconds later he appeared in the kitchen doorway, barefoot, shirtless and, except for the slacks of his pilot’s uniform, looking much as he did when he mowed the lawn. For a moment her mind went blank as to why she’d come over. Not even the weight of the tote bag on her shoulder helped to jump-start her thoughts. All she could focus on was that he looked virile and sexy, and almost too good to be true.

  “Could we, um, talk?”

  He seemed to need a minute to consider that. “I don’t want to argue anymore. Not just because the baby’s sleeping. I just don’t.”

  “Me, neither. That’s why I’m here. I came to apologize.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “It is to me.”

  He studied her in silence for several more seconds, and then beckoned her the rest of the way inside. Jenny let the storm door ease shut behind her, while taking in the fact that soft, soothing music played in the background; that except for the faint smell of formula, he’d probably not cooked for himself; that the emotions emanating from him were more wary than angry.

  “I brought this, too.” She let the strap of the tote bag slip from her shoulder and set the thing on the kitchen table. “I figured you might need it.”

  “I thought about coming over for it, but I kept changing my mind.”

  “You were angry.”

  He appeared uncomfortable with that word. “Maybe not all I was feeling was due to what you did or said. Although I will admit I wanted it to be. Wanted someone else to blame. I needed some quiet time to figure out what’s going on inside me.”

  That was about the scariest thing she’d ever heard. Jenny clasped her hands together, searching for something wise or witty to say. How ironic that what usually came easy didn’t now. She felt as tongue-tied as if this was the first time they’d met. But in a way, it was. If she wanted Mitch to take her seriously, as something more than his neighbor, she needed to change how they approached each other from here on out.

  “At first I wanted to come right over, but then I realized I needed some space and time, too,” she told him, hoping he’d give her the chance to say more.

  He nodded. “I suppose after all these years, my asking you for help sounded kind of hypocritical, didn’t it?”

  “No. Maybe desperate. And sweet, in a way.” If she was going to be this honest, she decided she might as well go the rest of the way. “I was grateful you came to me, Mitch. In a way, I suppose I’ve been waiting my entire life for you to need me. I’m afraid I let myself get too full of those feelings.”

  He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that. He glanced around as if realizing they were in his house and that it was up to him to do something. Gesturing over his shoulder, he said, “The baby’s asleep. Would you like a glass of wine or something?”

  Wine. She didn’t often drink, but the idea of sitting down, sharing a glass of wine over intimate conversation, spawned appealing pictures in Jenny’s mind. “That would be lovely. Thanks.” She would be careful to sip it. If he was doing the talking, he would never know that she already felt too light-headed to risk drinking much alcohol.

  Mitch took an opened green bottle from the refrigerator and pulled out the ornate cork. Then he took a long-stemmed glass from a nearby cupboard and half filled it.

  “Thank you,” Jenny said, accepting it from him.

  “I’m having coffee in there.” He gestured to his living room.

  Coffee. Of course he wouldn’t join her. He still had to fly again tomorrow, and just who was going to take care of Mary in his absence?

  She led the way into the next room, but ignored the music, the cozy, masculine chairs, and the picture window that would have given her a place to retreat in order to collect her thoughts. She simply stopped in the middle of the room and decided to get to the point before she lost her nerve.

  “Look, Mitch—”

  “Jenny, I know I—”

  Like her, Mitch stopped and smiled at the awkward start. “Go ahead,” she told him.

  “No, you go ahead.”

  Of all the times for him to resort to behaving like a gentleman. It would be so much easier to hear what he had to say first. “Why don’t you start? Most of this is about you, anyway.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “What do you mean?” Clarity took its time, leaving her feeling several paces behind his thoughts. “You’re the parent.”

  “Alleged parent.”

  He said that so dryly that she could find a chuckle for the humor behind it. “Whatever. In any case, it’s more than being just the baby-sitter.”

  “You’re more than simply the baby-sitter.”

  “I am?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  She hadn’t even had a sip of the wine yet and she had already lost track of the conversation. Opting for reverse psychology, she took a healthy sip and tried to respond to his question as honestly as she could. “It’s no secret that I’ve wanted you to notice me for ages, Mitch. Suffice it to say that maybe I should have faced reality a long time ago, and got on with my life. Maybe I’m here to tell you that I’m sorry for being such an albatross, and that I’ve finally gotten the message.”

  “You’re giving up.”

  Of all the responses he could have made... Jenny scratched at a sudden itch at her temple. “Why do I feel as if you haven’t handed me my script yet? This is totally unlike you, McCord.”

  “Yeah, I guess. But the Jenny Stevens you introduced me to today is a different person than the one who’s been peeking at me through her blinds and offering shy invitations for the longest time.” As she opened her mouth to speak, he held up his hand. “I know I have no right to be receptive to that Jenny, but despite the state of my life right now, I like her.”

  “You do?”

  “She’s funny, fresh, and annoyingly sexy.”

  “Annoyingly?” Jenny took one more sip of her wine before putting it down on the coffee table to avoid spilling it. The man certainly knew how to get to the core of her emotions. “Would you like to explain that?”

  “Not really. I don’t even like having this conversation.”

  “Then why are we?”

  “Because I can’t see us going on as we are.” Mitch crossed his arms and began looking more than a little uncomfortable. “I’ll admit I’ve done everything in my power to dissuade you from paying attention to me, even to the point of annoying you.”

  If it was anyone else, Jenny would think the man had one super ego, but she knew Mitch didn’t have to pretend or make false assumptions now. “But now you have a daughter and need reliable help to care for her.”

  “It’s not so simple or mercenary.”

  She would have been a liar if she claimed that didn’t interest her. “Go on.”

  “Jenny, I can’t deny I haven’t taken the easy way out of dealing with relationships. That message was brought home to me more than once in the past few days, but today in particular. And I wouldn’t blame you if you said you wanted nothing more to do with me.”

  “But...”

  “You set off strange, unexpected alarm bells inside me. I keep trying to deny them, to ignore them, but that just makes it worse.”

  “Alarm bells are rarely a positive thing.”

  “For you, they wouldn’t be.”

  Mercy. That was a provocative statement, and suddenly she wanted a moment to collect her wits. Jenny moistened her lips. “Could we talk about your day for a moment? Obviously something happened that’s challenged your perceptions yet again.”

  He ran his hand over his chest, and started, as if just realizing his state of undress. “Maybe I’d better go put on something.”

  “You’re fine the way you are.” Perfect, in fact. “Just tel
l me.”

  Mitch recrossed his arms over his chest and made an overlong perusal of the area on either side of Jenny’s shoulders. “Savannah isn’t going to be easy to locate. Either she’s left the Los Angeles area or she’s got an unlisted number. What’s more, no one has come forward to claim the baby.”

  “That doesn’t come as any real surprise, does it?”

  “No. But as I was returning to the plane after those calls, I met someone I used to date. The opportunity to... try again was there.”

  Barely able to suppress a gulp, Jenny nodded, hoping she looked more contemplative than jealous. “Fate can have a strange sense of humor sometimes.”

  “That’s the understatement of the week. The point is, I realized I didn’t want to. Go out again. With that person, I mean.”

  As much as she wanted to know why, Jenny refused to ask the question. Whatever he wanted her to know at this point was his choice. She would make her own decisions thereafter.

  “Because of you, Jen. Because it would have felt as if I was cheating on you.”

  Whatever she’d expected to hear, it was a good deal less than this. Small wonder that her world did a dizzying three-hundred-sixty-degree spin and her heart pounded at an insane tempo. “Why?”

  His expression told her that he had no answer, at least not one he was ready to verbalize.

  “Never mind,” she told him. “When my parents died, it took me a good while to recognize that in the beginning, the only way my grandmother could handle her grief was through silence. I was so caught up in my need to talk that I thought no one else’s counted as much. It’s a bad habit to fall into, and we do it because the people who love us let us indulge in ourselves.”

  Mitch smiled. “See. I struggle to tell you, and you already have the answers.”

  That made Jenny grimace. “Please. Don’t put me on a pedestal. At this stage I won’t just fall off, I’ll jump from sheer nausea.”

  That earned her a perplexed look. “You’re turning into one mystery after another, Jen. And that’s been hitting home loud and clear.”

  “Okay...you’re ready to acknowledge that I have a brain. Where does that leave us?”