Sweet and Sassy Baby Love

by Alicia Street

  As it turned out, it was several hours before she was able to speak her mind to Jonas. The house gleamed; it was utterly amazing what one could accomplish when powered by the fuel of ire. When Jonas returned home with Tony, and to her great satisfaction, he’d noticed right away that something was bothering her. She hadn’t lied to him. She’d told him that she had something she wanted to discuss, but that she didn’t want to talk about it in front of the baby.

  Consequently Tony had sensed the tension in the air and he’d taken quite a while to wind down enough so that he could go to sleep for the night. But once he was all tucked in, his steady breathing proof that he was in a deep slumber, Robin went straight to her room to get herself ready to confront Jonas.

  She took her time. She brushed her hair, applied a few strokes of blush. It made absolutely no sense, but Robin wanted to look good when she told him off.

  Staring into the mirror, she thought that maybe she wanted him to realize what he was going to be missing. But then, he would never understand that he’d missed out on her love, because she had no intention of telling him that particular piece of information.

  No, she’d stick to the insult and indignation she felt over being used as material for his newspaper column. By the time she’d finished with him, she thought, he’d gladly offer to rip that particular editorial to shreds.

  Armed with the article she’d taken from his desk, she entered the kitchen ready for battle.

  Jonas was sitting at the table reading the evening paper and he looked up as she came through the doorway.

  “Okay,” he said, “what did I do to upset you?”

  Silently she placed the piece of paper on the table and slid it over to him. He frowned as he perused it.

  Before he had the chance to come up with some calm words that would excuse his behavior, she accused, “You used me.”

  His green gaze studied her.

  “Jonas, you used me and my experiences with Tony to write that piece.” She pointed to the paper on the table.

  He blinked once. “Of course I did,” he said quietly.

  Robin had to admit his response startled her. She’d been expecting a denial, or at least an explanation—some kind of weasel-like subterfuge to evade responsibility. But no, he’d come right out and blatantly admitted his heinous behavior.

  She had worked out several strong arguments in her head geared specifically to make him own up to what he’d done, but now she was left feeling... deflated.

  He knew he’d used her, and not only that, he didn’t seem to mind that she’d discovered it. What the hell? Somehow, she felt it would have been better if he’d made some sort of refutation, no matter how small. The fact that she felt humiliated that he was going to reveal her maternal failings to the world didn’t bother him in the least.

  Her mouth turned cottony all of a sudden and she felt hot tears prickle her eyelids. She would not cry, damn it!

  She would not allow him to see how betrayed she felt.

  She cleared her throat in an attempt to try out her voice before she spoke.

  “I appreciate your honesty,” she said slowly, “but I hate the fact that you violated...” She let the sentence trail in order to control her emotions. She swallowed. Then, she tried again, “I feel that you shouldn’t have used me to...” The lump in her throat made it difficult to get the words out.

  “Robin...” He reached out and touched her forearm.

  “Don’t,” she said, jerking away from him.

  How she wanted to melt into his arms. How she wanted him to apologize and make all the pain go away. But that could only happen in some kind of fantasy world. This was reality.

  If she didn’t get angry, no, furious, right now, then she would fall to pieces and he’d know how she felt about him, he’d know how she hurt.

  “I’m not here to further your career!” Her voice grated hot in her throat. “It was low of you to take my first attempts at caring for Tony and use them to entertain your readers.”

  “But it’s my job to entertain my readers,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t keep them if I wasn’t entertaining.” He glanced down at the article lying on the table. “And as for using you, I did. I have to. I write about life. I write about what I observe. And I’ve been observing you quite a lot lately.”

  “But you took what I told you…” she moistened her dry lips “…you took my feelings and my mistakes and made me look like some bumbling fool.” A hot tear trailed from her eye and she quickly dashed it from her cheek.

  “Robin, you’re taking this much too personally,” he said. “Where’s your sense of humor?”

  She could hear the edge of defensiveness in his tone, and she hated it.

  “Don’t try to turn this around,” she told him firmly. “Don’t make this out to be my problem. You did this. You used me. And I won’t let you make me the butt of your jokes. I am not here for your amusement, or the amusement of your… fans.”

  Robin spit out the word, hoping to convey that she thought anyone would be nuts to want to read anything he had to say.

  “I wrote an opinion article on new mothers,” he said, his voice rising an octave. “You were the best example I had to work with. I didn’t intend to…”

  “Oh, you intended all right. You did exactly what you intended to do,” she cut in, whipping up her anger into a thick coat of protection. “You intended to embarrass me, Jonas. You intended to humiliate me. And you did just that.”

  “Wait a minute.” His dark brows were drawn together. “Don’t stand there and tell me that you honestly believe I singled you out. Don’t you think the experiences you had with Tony are universal ones? Don’t you think every new mother in the world feels that she’s juggling thirty different tasks at once?”

  “But we’re not talking about every woman in the world here, are we?” She poked her chest with her index finger as she said, “We’re talking about me.”

  She plunked a fist on her hip. “Why didn’t you use some of the things that happened to you? Why didn’t you mention your experience of being peed on? And you are the one who allowed Tony to stand up in the shopping cart and nearly topple out onto the floor. Why, you can’t even give the child a simple bath without getting soaked to the skin. And you were the one who had green beans smashed into his hair, not me.” She glared at him. “Why didn’t you use any of that for material?”

  Even though he tried to suppress it, she saw the corner of his mouth lift ever so gently and mirth lit his gaze.

  “Because I’m not a mother.”

  His quick and simple answer infuriated her. “Oh, pretty convenient,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Besides,” he went on, “I plan to use my experiences in a piece about new fathers.”

  After only a moment of hesitation, she said, “So, I guess you think that makes it okay.”

  “Makes what okay?”

  “Don’t play stupid. I won’t let you make me look like a fool in your column. I don’t want people to pick up the newspaper and read about me—“

  “It won’t be in the paper.”

  “Or on the internet,” she shot back.

  He only shook his head in silent answer. She frowned when she saw him press his lips together, as if he’d given something away he hadn’t meant to reveal.

  What did he mean? she wondered. He wrote a syndicated column, didn’t he?

  “Well?” she prodded.

  Jonas sighed. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. Finally he looked up at her. “I hadn’t meant to say anything just yet.”

  “About what?” Her stomach churned, and she had the worst feeling that she was about to receive bad news.

  Again, he sighed. “I signed a book contract just a few days before Sara and Jeff’s accident. I’ve been trying to cram my mornings with producing material for the new book and continuing my column.”

  He was saying something important here, Robin knew. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out just what it was
and why he wouldn’t want her to know about his book deal.

  “You agreed to working in the mornings,” she said, her mind still churning. “If you weren’t getting enough time to write, why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you wanted to work, too.”

  That defensiveness was back in his tone. So was the impulsiveness.

  “I decided,” he said in a rush, “that it would probably take six to eight months to complete the material for the book. Ten at the most.”

  Robin felt he’d just given her another piece to the puzzle. She wasn’t a stupid woman, why couldn’t she make the pieces fit together?

  “Eight months,” she repeated the words slowly. “Ten at the most.” She pushed her bangs back from her forehead. “That’s how long you said it would take for us to decide which one of us would be the best guardian for Tony.” Her voice was hushed as she said, “You’ve been lying all along, haven’t you?”

  He just looked at her.

  “You were only using me as a means of finishing your book.” She lifted her chin a fraction. “You never meant for me to even be a contender in this bout for the guardianship of our nephew, did you?”

  Damn the tears that sprang to her eyes!

  “Robin…”

  “No! Let me talk.” She smeared her palm across her eyes in a jerky motion. “It doesn’t bother me in the least that you used me. Because you see, Jonas, I had every intention of using you, too. I agreed to come here and live with you, I agreed to our farce of a marriage for the sole purpose of learning to care for Tony. I had no intention of discussing with you who would be Tony’s guardian. I knew it would be me from the very beginning.” Her shoulders squared. “How do you like the sound of that?” She raised her brows in question. “How do you like being used?”

  Before he could answer, she said quickly, “What does bother me is that you thought I couldn’t handle being Tony’s guardian. It bothers me more than I can say that you thought I couldn’t do the job.”

  She turned to leave the room.

  “Wait.”

  There was something in his whispered word that stopped her in her tracks. But she kept her back to him.

  “Robin, I have to admit that everything you’re saying is true. But all of my plans were made before I saw you with Tony.”

  His tone took on a sort of desperation that made her stop breathing as she waited to hear what he would say next.

  “I only thought I was doing what Sara would want me to do.”

  She turned then. “What do you mean?” Her question was sharp. “Sara didn’t want the same thing that Jeff wanted?”

  “Of course she did,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything.” He shook his head, clearly distressed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “What did you mean?” There was near-hysteria in her voice and her knees had gone all wobbly as she marched back to the table. “Tell me,” she demanded.

  His energy seemed sapped and his shoulders rounded. He sighed.

  “There were some things Sara said to me,” he said evasively. “Just little comments that led me to believe that she felt you... wouldn’t be the best person to raise her son.”

  Robin couldn’t believe her ears. The pain of Jonas humiliating her in his article was nothing compared to the ache that ripped through her at this moment. Her sister-in-law didn’t believe she could take care of Tony.

  “Why did she sign the papers then?” The words sounded tinny and wounded, even to her own ears. “Why would she agree to making me co-guardian.”

  Jonas stood and cupped his palms on her shoulders. “She didn’t know you very well, Robin. She said those things to me never having had the chance to see you with the baby. I’ve seen how hard you’ve tried. I’ve seen how much you’ve learned. I’ve been there to witness your dedication.”

  Each of his proclamations fell on deaf ears.

  “And I thought all along that we were doing what they wanted.” Robin felt as though she were in some slow-motion dream. Her throat felt parched and scratchy. Her eye sockets felt gritty, dry. She hurt so bad. So bad, she couldn’t even cry.

  “We are.”

  But his assurance meant next to nothing, not after what he’d revealed about Sara’s doubts concerning her ability to raise Tony.

  He gave her a gentle shake. “Robin, we’re doing exactly what they wanted. We’re taking care of the little man. Together.”

  “But haven’t you learned that we can’t do it together?” She shrugged his hands from her. “You use me, I use you...” She reached around him and snatched up his article. “You humiliate me...” She waved the paper under his nose. “I can’t trust you.”

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he told her.

  “I’m sure that that’s what you believe.”

  Agitation clenched and unclenched the small muscle at the back of his jaw. Finally he said, “It may have been inappropriate of me not to tell you about the book contract. And I should have told you up front that I intended to remain Tony’s guardian.” His dark brows drew together. “But where the essay is concerned, I did nothing wrong. If you read it again, you’ll see that I was only trying to help young mothers. Yes, I was also trying to be entertaining. Humor is a great tool; it opens the mind to ideas even while it creates smiles. I only wanted to let new moms know that they’re not alone in what they’re experiencing, and that a lighthearted attitude will keep them from going…” he seemed to search the air for a word “…completely bonkers.”

  He stared at her a moment, frustration and irritation plainly written on his handsome features. “And if you had even the tiniest ability to laugh at life you’d see that what I’m saying is the truth.”

  With that he turned on his heel and left her standing in the middle of the kitchen.

  She stood there several long seconds in the quiet, clutching that stupid piece of paper she’d brandished like some sort of half-baked lawyer in a television courtroom drama.

  “Damn the man!” she murmured, just barely quelling the childish urge to stomp her foot. She had wanted to be the one who walked out. She had wanted to be the one who left him feeling all alone.

  Chapter Eight

  “Give me another block,” Robin told Tony.

  The toddler bent to retrieve a red block from the pile on the floor and then handed it to her.

  Carefully Robin placed the block on top of the tower she’d built for her nephew.

  “There,” she said with a sigh. “Ta-daa.” She threw her arms wide, drawing his full attention to her grand presentation.

  Tony giggled and clapped, and then, with his eyes twinkling merrily, he took great pleasure in promptly knocking over the tower.

  Robin feigned a dramatic gasp and he laughed louder, delighted that he’d surprised her.

  It was a game the two of them played often.

  “Paint,” Tony demanded.

  “You want to finger-paint?” she asked.

  His little head bobbed up and down.

  “Okay,” she agreed easily. “But we have to pick up all the blocks first.”

  “No.”

  She tried not to smile as she watched him shake his head emphatically, imitating the same frown she wore when he refused to eat his peas at dinner time. That small word seemed to have become his favorite lately. She was happy knowing that he felt comfortable enough with her to make demands, and even though it would probably be easier to clean up the blocks herself, she didn’t think she should allow herself to be manipulated by the little imp.

  “Well,” she told him, “we can’t get out the paints until we pick up the blocks.”

  His bottom lip stuck out stubbornly.

  Robin had two choices: she could become obstinate herself, which would only spark a battle of wills that would surely get ugly, or she could make the chore a game.

  “I know!” She kept her tone bright, placing the pad of her index finger on her chin “Let’s pick up all the blue blocks first.”

  She move
d the large, round tin closer to the pile of blocks.

  “Can you find the blue blocks?” she asked.

  Tony grinned at the challenge, captured by the idea of a new game. He snatched up a block indiscriminately and offered it to her.

  “Oh, now…you know that one’s green.”

  He squealed, happy with his attempt to fool her. He tossed the block back onto the floor.

  She picked up a triangular-shaped one. “This one is blue.”

  She handed it to him and he plunked it into the metal can. Robin clapped for him and he looked expectantly at her.

  “Now, you find one.”

  He picked up a cylinder-shaped block, announcing, “Boo.”

  It didn’t surprise her that he got it right. They had played this game before, too, and it amazed her how quickly he was learning his colors. Discovering the world with Tony was allowing her see everything with new eyes, and she was learning that the world around her was an awe-inspiring place. And allowing herself to get lost in her time with Tony helped her to forget, at least for a small while, the chaotic turmoil that had made a home in her mind ever since her terrible argument with Jonas.

  Soon, the blocks were in the tin and she let Tony place the lid on with a plunk.

  He scurried into the kitchen and struggled to pull out the heavy kitchen chair. She helped him climb up onto it. He slapped his hands playfully, using the tabletop as a drum.

  “Paint!”

  “Okay.” Robin chuckled.

  She got out the little jars of finger paint and a large sheet of heavy paper. The first time she’d painted with him she’d used the thin paper that had come with the kit, and Tony had globbed so much paint onto the paper that it hadn’t held up. Paint had ended up on the table, the chair, the floor and his clothes. She’d quickly learned that poster board was worth its weight in gold when it came to finger painting.

  After rolling up Tony’s sleeves and tying the strings of a smock around his middle, she let him create a painting. He squeezed the thick paint through his fingers, obviously delighted by the slick wetness. The fun was impossible to resist, and soon she joined him, painting an image of her own.