His Best Friend's Baby

by Susan Carlisle

  She was putting her key in the lock when she noticed the curtain of her neighbor’s house flutter. Mrs. Rosenheim had been watching. She would no doubt be over the next afternoon to get all the particulars about who Ryan was and how Phoebe knew him.

  Ryan was as good as his word. He was there on Saturday just after lunchtime with a tool bag in his hand. Mrs. Rosenheim was sitting at Phoebe’s kitchen table when the knock came at the door.

  “I won’t stay but I am going to check this boy out before I go.”

  Phoebe would have argued but it wouldn’t have done her any good. Despite the fact that Mrs. Rosenheim was probably older than Phoebe’s grandmother would be, she was a commanding presence and was only concerned for Phoebe’s welfare. They had started taking care of each other two years ago when Phoebe had moved in.

  Joshua had only been home once since she’d been living there. He’d not been impressed with Mrs. Rosenheim, calling her the “old busybody bird.” Phoebe had learned to appreciate her concern. If nothing else, she knew someone would miss her if she didn’t come home.

  She opened the door for Ryan. “Come in.”

  “How’re you doing?”

  The question sounded like he was making pleasant conversation, but he was also looking at her with a trained eye. He smelled of sawdust with a hint of citrus. It made her want to step closer. Take a deeper breath.

  “I’m feeling fine.” She smiled and he nodded.

  “Good. I told Sophia that I would check.”

  Mrs. Rosenheim shuffled into the room.

  Ryan looked from her to Phoebe. “Ryan, this is my neighbor, Mrs. Rosenheim.”

  He sat his tool bag on the floor at his feet and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You’re American.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Texan.”

  Mrs. Rosenheim made a noncommittal sound low in her throat. Ryan gave Phoebe a questioning look. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “So you knew Mr. Taylor.”

  A guarded look came over Ryan’s face. “Yes, JT and I served in Iraq together.”

  “Bad thing, leaving Phoebe here all by herself all the time. A man should want to be at home with his wife. She needs someone to watch over her. Help her.”

  Phoebe didn’t miss the color wash out of Ryan’s face.

  “It was his job. The army,” Phoebe said quietly.

  “I know, sweetie. But a woman not only wants a man to help put a roof over her head but to be around when the times are hard.” She directed the last few words at Ryan.

  “Uh, Mrs. Rosenheim, I think we need to let Ryan get started on the bed. I’m sure he has other places he needs to go today.” Phoebe shook her head at him when she started to say something.

  “I’m next door if you need me.” Mrs. Rosenheim made her way out with a last glance at Ryan.

  “Formidable lady,” Ryan said with a grin.

  “Yes. She and Joshua didn’t like each other on sight, but she’s been good to me. She was with the men who came from the military department to tell me about Joshua. I don’t know what I would have done without her shoulder to cry on. She’s also the one who realized I was pregnant when I started being sick.”

  Phoebe suddenly needed to focus on something else. She shook away the memories. Ryan was the first male to have come into her home in over a year. He seemed to take up the entire space. “Anyway, let me show you where the bed is.”

  Ryan followed Phoebe down a hallway that had four doors leading off of it. She stopped at the next to last one and nudged the door open.

  Against one wall was a large brown box that Ryan guessed was the baby bed. That didn’t surprise him. What did were the piles of books stacked around the room and the desk painted in a folk art style with a chair of the same kind sitting in one corner. The walls were painted a dark gray. Two cans of paint sat in another corner. He fully expected to see a room decorated in all the frills and with toys waiting for a baby. He’d listened to enough mothers talk about what they had done in the baby’s room or were going to do to know that Phoebe was far behind in her preparations.

  She placed her hand on the box. “This is the bed.”

  “Great. I’ll get it put together.”

  Walking to the door, she looked back at him. “You didn’t have to agree to this, but I really appreciate you doing it.”

  “Not a problem.”

  He’d been working for an hour when Phoebe returned to stand in the doorway. His back was to her but he felt her presence.

  “I brought you something to drink.” She moved to the desk and placed the drink on it.

  Ryan stood from where he’d been tightening a screw on the back of the bed. He picked up the glass, took a long swallow of water and put it back on the desk again.

  Phoebe had an odd look on her face that quickly disappeared.

  Ryan said, “I guess I’m doing pretty well. I don’t think I’m going to have but two screws and one thingamajig left over.”

  She laughed.

  Had he ever heard anything more beautiful? It was almost musical. He vowed then to give her a reason to laugh often.

  “My father always said that if you didn’t have parts left over then you didn’t put it together correctly.”

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “In a small town about fifty miles from here.”

  “Is that where you met JT?”

  “Yeah. We had a military base nearby. I worked at a local restaurant and Joshua and some of his mates came in for dinner one night and sat at my table.”

  “And, as they say, the rest was history.”

  “Yes, it was. I was wondering if … uh, you might like to stay for dinner? I do most of my cooking on the weekends so that I don’t have to stand up any more than necessary during the week. How do grilled lamb chops with three vegetables sound?”

  When had been the last time he’d eaten a home-cooked meal? Ryan couldn’t remember. He grabbed what he did eat from the hospital cafeteria or from a fast-food place. The thought of sitting down to a real meal was more than he could resist. “That sounds great.”

  “Good. Then I’ll go finish up.”

  She’d already moved to leave when he said, “Phoebe, I couldn’t help but notice that you don’t have this room set up for a baby.”

  Making a slow turn, she faced him. “I don’t need you to make me feel ashamed. I bet you think I sank so far into feeling sorry for myself that I didn’t pay attention to getting ready for the baby. I was still in shock over Joshua when I found out I was pregnant. I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything for a while. Anyway, it has been pushed back. Maybe I’ll have time to do something after the baby comes.”

  That wasn’t going to happen. Ryan had also heard the new mothers talking about how they never got anything done any more. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed or defensive. I was thinking I could help. I see you have paint. How about letting me do the walls for you? I could also move this desk and chair to where you want it and the books.”

  “I hate to have you do all that.”

  “I don’t mind. All you’d have to do is tell me where to put everything.”

  She rested her hand on her middle. A wistful look came to her eyes. “It would be nice to have the room ready for the baby. I had planned to buy some stuff for the walls.”

  “We could do that together.” It was the least he could do for Joshua. This was practical stuff that needed doing. He had a strong back and could take care of them. He couldn’t fix the fact she was having this baby all by herself but he could help with the everyday aspects of adding a new person to her household.

  “That sounds like I’m asking too much.”

  “You’re not asking. I volunteered. I’d like to do it. If JT were here, he’d be doing it. This will be my way of helping him out, like he did me.”

  Her eyes darkened for a second and then she nodded. “Then thanks. I’ll gladly accept your help, but I’m going to warn you that you may wish you hadn’t.
”

  “How’s that?”

  “I have so many ideas for this room you’ll get tired of me telling you what to do.”

  “We’ll see. I’ll be through here in about ten minutes, then I’d like to get started on the painting. Do you have any paint supplies?”

  “They’re in the shed in the backyard. When you get done, come to the kitchen and I’ll take you out and show you where they are.”

  “Will do.”

  He watched her leave. Even with the bulk she carried she had a graceful stride. What had possessed him to get this caught up in doing a baby’s room? He made a practice of not getting involved.

  Guilt, pure and simple.

  CHAPTER THREE

  PHOEBE HAD SPENT so much time without a man or his help it made her nervous to have Ryan in her house. While he’d been putting together the bed, she’d been in the kitchen, cooking. Still, she’d been aware of every clatter or thump that had come from the direction of the bedroom. On occasion she’d heard a swear word. She smiled. More than once her father had bloodied his knuckles, putting a toy together for her or her brother.

  It was nice to have someone in the house. She’d considered getting a dog or cat a couple of times just so there would be a living, breathing thing around. She’d decided to wait because she didn’t want the poor animal alone in the house all day.

  Ryan came around the corner. “All done. Come see what you think.”

  She put the plate on the table and headed down the hall, well aware of him following her. He’d pushed the bed up against the wall across from the window. It looked like the perfect place for it. She ran her hand along the railing. “It looks wonderful.”

  “Do you have a mattress for it?”

  “Yes, it’s in the other bedroom.”

  “I’ll get it.”

  He soon returned with a mattress covered in protective plastic. Together they worked to remove it. Ryan lifted the bedding and dropped it into place.

  “It almost makes it real,” she said with a note of wonder.

  “What?”

  “A baby coming.”

  He chuckled. “I would think that large mound you’re sporting out front would make it seem pretty real.”

  “It does but the bed is something tangible.”

  “What about a rocker or any other furniture?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll have to go buy something. I was hoping I could find some pieces at a garage sale that I could redo. I wanted to paint it bright and add animals and plants, that sort of thing.”

  “You mean like the other folk art you have in the living room?”

  She looked at him with a brightness that said they were talking about a passion of hers. “You know about folk art?”

  “Only what it is. I’m more a straight paint and stain kind of guy. Fancy painting isn’t my thing. So, if you’ll show me where you want these books, I’ll start moving them.”

  “They go in my bedroom.”

  She went out the doorway and turned toward the end of the hall, then went through an open doorway. Ryan followed more slowly. Why did it bother him that he had just been invited into his buddy’s wife’s bedroom? She hadn’t even thought about what she was saying. When she looked back he was standing in the doorway.

  “They go on this bookshelf. If you’ll bring them to me, I can shelve them.”

  Ryan returned with an armload of books. She’d taken a seat on the floor in front of the shelving while he’d been gone.

  He stacked the books on the floor and she went to work, putting them in place.

  Ryan looked down at Phoebe. He saw pregnant women day in and day out, but there was something almost angelic about the way her golden hair covered a portion of her face and her small hands put the books so neatly into their spots.

  He shook his head and strode toward the door. Had he been spending too much time in his shop alone? The sawdust was filling his brain.

  Fifteen minutes later he had all the books moved. Phoebe hadn’t worked as fast as he so she was still shelving books. Not wanting to sit on her bed, he stood near the door until she was finished.

  “Thanks for doing this. I’ve been dreading it for weeks. That’s why it hasn’t been done.” She continued to work.

  Ryan’s cell phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. “I have to get this.”

  She nodded.

  “Ryan Matthews.”

  “It’s Julie Habershire. My waters just broke.”

  “Okay. No need to panic. We talked about what to do if this happens. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Drive safe.”

  “Ryan, the baby will be all right, won’t it? It’s early.”

  “The baby should be fine. Not so early it shouldn’t be perfect. See you soon.”

  He touched the phone to disconnect the call. Phoebe looked at him with a slight smile on her face. “Are you always that calm and reassuring with your patients?”

  “I try to be.”

  “That’s a special gift.”

  “I just know that people are scared when they have never experienced something before, especially if it has to do with their bodies. I learned a long time ago if I don’t sound upset, then they’re more likely not to get upset.”

  “You must be good at your job.”

  He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “I hope my patients think so. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I hate to miss out on that meal, but babies don’t wait.”

  “I understand.”

  “Would it be all right if I come back tomorrow and get started on that painting? Maybe get in on leftovers?”

  “That sounds fine to me. After lunch?”

  “Then it’s a plan. See you then.” He turned to head out the door and stopped. Coming back, he offered her his hand. “If I don’t help you up, I’m afraid you might still be on the floor when I return tomorrow.”

  “Are you implying that I’m so big that I can’t get up off the floor by myself?” She accepted his hand. He helped her rise. She did it with grace.

  With her on her feet, he put up his hands as if defending himself. “Hey, I work with pregnant women every day and I know better than to do that. Have to go. See you later.”

  Her soft laugh followed him down the hall. He went out the front door with a grin on his face, something he’d done more in the last few days than he had in years.

  The next afternoon Phoebe wasn’t sure what was happening but she was going to take Ryan’s help while it was being offered. She’d sat around for too long with no direction. Well aware that she needed to be getting the baby’s room together, she hadn’t had the heart to do so. It was just too sad to work on it by herself. Having the bed assembled made her want to do more. It needed sheets, blankets. There should be other pieces of furniture, pictures on the walls.

  Next weekend she’d go to some garage sales and see if she could find a few items. She smiled. For once she was feeling some excitement over the prospect of being a mother. For now she’d be satisfied with just having the room painted.

  She’d hardly finished her lunch sandwich when there was a knock at the door. Ryan stood there. Dressed in cargo pants and a white T-shirt that hugged his well-defined physique, he was a fine-looking man. Mrs. Rosenheim had made a point to tell Phoebe the same thing that morning. Ryan proved that just because she was pregnant it didn’t mean that she couldn’t be affected by a man. It took her time to draw enough breath to say hello.

  “Hey,” he said in that drawl that left her feeling like she was sitting beside a cool stream on a hot summer day. “How about showing me the paint supplies? If I need anything I’ll still have time to go to the store before it closes.”

  “Okay. It’s this way.” This was the first time he hadn’t taken time to ask her how she was doing. He seemed focused on the project. She kind of liked the fact that he didn’t see her as only a pregnant woman.

  At the shed, she started to raise the roll-top door. Ryan stopped her by placing his hand over hers. His hand wasn’t smooth, l
ike she had expected for a midwife. Instead, it had a coarseness to it that spoke of a man who did more than wear gloves all the time.

  “Hey, you don’t need to be doing that. Let me get it.”

  What would have taken her great effort seemed as easy for him as lifting a blind.

  “The paint stuff is stacked up over there.” She pointed to the right and toward the back of the shed.

  “I see it.” He leaned over some gardening pots to gather the items, while at the same time presenting her with a nice view of his behind.

  “Would you mind carrying a couple of things?”

  It took her a second to answer. “No.”

  Ryan looked over his shoulder and gave her a speculative look. “Here.” He handed her a few brushes and a package of rollers, then came out holding an armload of drop cloths and a paint tray. “I think this is everything I need.”

  They walked back to the house. Phoebe held the door open for him to enter. He was laying supplies on the floor of the baby’s room by the time she entered. He took what she carried from her and added them to the pile.

  Scanning the room, he said, “Is the desk staying in here?”

  She looked at it. Ryan’s drive to get things done was surpassing what she had thought through. “I had planned to put it in the living room. But I’ll need to move a few things around so it’ll have a place. Give me a minute and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You’re not moving anything by yourself.”

  Phoebe faced him with her hands on her hips. “I appreciate your help. Really I do, but up until a few days ago I had no help. No one telling me what I should and shouldn’t do. I am fully capable of moving a few things. If it’s too large for me to do so, I’ll call you.”

  Ryan’s look met hers. He pursed his lips. She’d got his attention.

  “I’m sorry. I stepped over the line, didn’t I?”

  She nodded. “Yes. Just a little bit.”

  “Then please let me know if and when you need help.” He bowed slightly.

  “Thank you. I will.” She left the room with her head held high. She was grateful for Ryan’s help but she wasn’t needy, despite what her behavior at his house had implied.

  In the living room, she began moving small items off an end table. Ryan’s soft whistle drifted up the hall. It was nice to have someone around. Her smile grew. It would be nice to have a baby in the house.