Читать книгу She's My Baby - Adrianne Byrd - Страница 11

On the porch of her Sea Symphony Villa, Roslyn stared out at Barbados’s powdery white sand, turquoise sea, cerulean sky and wanted to pinch herself. Everything was postcard perfect—and yet she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back home.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Patrick eased his arms around her waist and nibbled on her exposed shoulder.

Though his lips were pleasure, they failed to draw Roslyn from her troubled thoughts. “I was thinking about Samantha,” she answered honestly.

Her husband groaned and laid his head against her shoulder. “This is supposed to be our vacation.”

“It is.” Roslyn turned in his arms and fluttered a smile at him. “I was just hoping everything is okay, you know? This time of year is always hard for her.”

Patrick nodded, but his gaze inspected her. “This time of year is also hard on you…and Leila.”

Instant tears welled in Roslyn’s eyes and she lowered her gaze to stare at the span of his broad chest.

Gently, he lifted her head again so their eyes met. “All I’m saying is…you can’t fix your sister. Everyone has demons to fight. Samantha is going to have to fight her own.”

“It’s not that easy.” Roslyn pushed out of his arms and shook her head. “Samantha isn’t strong. She’s not like Leila—who can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’. And she’s not like me.” She took Patrick’s hand. “I have an incredible man who I can lean on and who can pick up the pieces when I fall apart.”

Patrick bowed his head.

“I know you’ve never cared for my baby sister.”

His head jerked up again. “That’s not true.” He hedged as he selected his next words. “I just don’t like how she emotionally blackmails you…or anyone who tries to get too close.”

“And what if Ms. Friedman is right? What if she has had a baby? Do you think that she’s emotionally stable to raise a child?”

“We don’t know—”

“Hypothetically?”

Patrick drew a deep breath and gave the questions careful consideration. “I honestly don’t know.”

Roslyn nodded and returned to his arms. “Neither do I.”

“Your sister abandoned her baby?” Garrick asked, mentally snapping pieces of the puzzle together.

“Looks that way.” Leila ripped open the thin envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter. “Dear Leila, I’m sorry.” She stopped and closed her eyes to pray for strength.

“Is that all it says?” Garrick asked, bouncing and patting the baby’s back.

Slowly, the child’s wails teetered off to soft coos.

Amazed, Leila glanced up. “How are you doing that?”

“It’s like I said—” he cocked his head with a disarming smile “—I’m a natural.”

At that moment, the little girl released a high-pitched squeal to contradict his claim.

A smug smile curved Leila’s lips.

“Any chance I can get that diaper?” he asked.

“Oh.” Leila’s brain kicked into gear. “I think I saw a bag in the kitchen. Hopefully there’s one in there.” She rushed to the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted an unmistakable pink diaper bag on the table. “Bingo! I found it.”

She unzipped the bag and found a stockpile of tiny diapers, bottled milk, plastic toys and singing stuffed frogs.

Garrick strolled into the kitchen while making funny noises to Leila’s new niece. “She’s adorable,” he said, taking one of the diapers. “What’s her name?”

“No clue.”

“You never even met her before?”

“What can I say? Not every family is like the Huxtables,” Leila huffed, and then remembered the letter she still clasped in her hand.

Her new neighbor quickly changed the subject. “Where should I change her?”

Leila lowered the letter again and glanced around. “Uh, I guess we can do it in the living room?”

“Okay.” He carved out a smile. “Lead the way.”

Since her house was not exactly equipped with a baby-changing station, Leila settled on him lying the baby down on the sofa. Even then, she cringed at the potential mess he could make on the furniture’s expensive fabric.

“Any wipes or baby powder?”

Leila blinked as if he spoke a foreign language.

“Could you check the bag?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Leila hid her embarrassment by pivoting and racing back to the kitchen. He had to think she was a complete idiot. In ten minutes, he’d learned that she didn’t know how to hold a baby, calm a baby, or even change a baby. Yet, here she was—with a baby.

“I’ll never forgive her for this,” Leila mumbled under her breath as she grabbed the diaper bag. When she returned to the living room, once again, she watched him coo and blubber a bunch of gibberish. All of which her niece found entertaining.

“Here you go.” She handed over the bag.

“Thanks.” He quickly pulled out the items he needed. “You better pay close attention, seeing you’re going to have to do this about seven to ten times a day.”

Leila’s eyebrows leaped up. “That much?”

“Give or take.” He flashed her a dimpled smile.

Her stomach clenched and she tightened the belt on her robe before, once again, remembering the letter. She unfolded it and read. “Dear Leila. I’m sorry. I know my leaving your new six-month-old niece will be a mild inconvenience…” Leila glanced up. “A mild inconvenience?”

Garrick looked at her but said nothing.

Leila rolled her eyes and returned her attention back to the letter. “Like me, motherhood was never a part of your plans. However, unlike me, your decision wasn’t based on the fact that you would make a lousy mother, but simply because you’re married to your career. I, on the other hand, am a screwup. I always have been.”

Leila’s voice softened. “Since little Emma came into my life, I’m seized by the fear that I’m going to screw her up as well. That’s the last thing I want to do. Emma deserves all the things I can’t give her, but I know that you can. Please don’t hate me for doing this. But I believe I’m doing what’s best for my daughter. Take care of her and love her as your own. Both of you will always be in my thoughts and in my heart. Love, Sam.”

Leila crumpled the letter in her hand. “Give me a break.”

Garrick cast another sidelong glance in her direction.

“Trust me,” she said, folding her arms. “My sister is a piece of work. Every time things get tough, she gets going.”

“But there’s a little girl caught in the middle,” Garrick said.

“Yeah.” Leila fell silent as she stared down at Emma. She could see hints of Sam in the shape of the child’s face and nose.

“Well,” Garrick said, folding up the used diaper. “I’m all done here. You have someplace I can put this?”

Panic seized her. “You’re leaving?”

“Well. There’s no real reason for me to stick around.”

Emma kicked and giggled to herself.

“Besides,” Garrick chuckled and smiled, “I don’t think this little lady will be giving you any more trouble.” He tickled the child’s sides and was rewarded with another burst of giggles. “She’s adorable.”

“But—but. I didn’t see how you did the diaper thingy,” Leila said.

“Trust me.” He laughed as he stood. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.” He tried to hand the used diaper over.

Leila turned up her nose and waved the odorous thing away. “Hold on.” She turned and bolted back toward the kitchen. When she returned, she carried her large stainless-steel garbage can with her. “Drop it in here.”

Garrick’s brows dipped in confusion, but he did as she asked. “Um, is there anyone you can call to help you with her?” He reached down and picked up the rolling child before she fell off the sofa.

Leila shook her head and set the garbage can down.

“Another family member…or friend?”

She snapped her fingers and raced over to the cordless phone on the end table. “Ciara!”

Garrick brightened. “There you go. Problem solved.”

“You’re so right. Ciara totally knows about this whole baby thing. I can pawn Ms. Emma off on her for a few hours while I hunt down my mentally handicapped sister.” She punched in the number.

He frowned. “Do you think that’s a wise idea?”

She listened as the phone rang. “What do you mean?”

“Well, apparently your sister is, uh, a little unstable at the moment. Maybe it’s not the right time to force her to take care of Emma. You know, I read an article the other day on postpartum depression—”

“What are you, a shrink?”

“No—”

“Tom Cruise?”

He chuckled. “Definitely not.”

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.”