Читать книгу His Baby Dilemma - Catherine Lanigan - Страница 14

CHAPTER FIVE

ONE OF THE things Grace loved about Indian Lake was how all Aunt Louise’s friends welcomed her with open arms. And as usual, Mrs. Beabots was the first to offer.

Grace owed Mrs. Beabots not only her first Paris connections, but now the use of the apartment in Mrs. Beabots’s Victorian mansion also. Grace had known she couldn’t possibly squeeze both herself and Jules into Louise’s one-bedroom apartment above the ice-cream shop. It had been fun to crash on the sofa when she was a teenager, but with a baby who sometimes didn’t sleep the whole night through, Grace didn’t think any of them would get much rest in such tight quarters. After all Aunt Louise had done for her, staying somewhere else was the least Grace could do.

Normally, Louise left for Florida each winter, but because of her back injury, she hadn’t gone the year before and had given up the house she’d been leasing then. The new people had rented it for the next three years at a higher fee. Louise feared that her Florida days were over.

Luckily, Mrs. Beabots hadn’t rented her upstairs apartment to anyone and she was delighted to have Grace and the baby staying with her.

Once Grace had unpacked and settled in, Mrs. Beabots invited her for afternoon tea. She’d already invited Louise, as well as Sarah, who lived next door. Sarah had given birth to a baby girl, Charlotte, only three days after Jules was born on July 1, and Grace was looking forward to having her friend so close by.

Jules was still napping when Grace headed downstairs at four, but because he was used to being transported from her Paris apartment to her studio, where designers shouted at each other over the cutting tables and sewing machines whirred, he could just about sleep through anything.

Grace put Jules, in his baby carrier, on Mrs. Beabots’s kitchen island just as Aunt Louise walked in.

Louise smiled at their elderly host. “I brought you a plate of brownies I made this morning.”

Mrs. Beabots grinned. “Those are the brownies for your brownie-nut-fudge ice cream, I presume.”

“They are.”

“How generous of you to share with us, Louise. We’ll put them out with the pecan and cranberry sandies I made. The tea is nearly ready. Sarah should be here any minute. I thought we’d sit in the front parlor. Luke put in a new heater for me out there and it’s quite toasty.” She winked. “The babies won’t get cold and we can watch the snowfall as the neighborhood Christmas lights come on.”

“Sounds lovely,” Grace replied, taking the china plate of cookies out to the front parlor as she hefted Jules’s carrier in her right hand. She set him on a red velvet Victorian chair. “Oh!” Grace exclaimed, spotting the skinny fir tree in the corner. “You have a Christmas tree out here.”

Louise placed the brownies on the coffee table. “Very pretty.”

“My big tree is in the library, as usual,” Mrs. Beabots explained. “But I spend so much time in here, reading and visiting, that it’s a shame not to have some of my favorite ornaments out to enjoy all the time.” Mrs. Beabots pointed to the tree. “All these are from Paris. Don’t you love the pink, gold and aqua? They were in vogue back in the sixties.”

“I’d love to hear more of your stories,” Grace said as the antique doorbell rang.

“That would be Sarah,” Mrs. Beabots said, placing the teapot on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back.”

“Uh-huh. Just in time not to disclose anything juicy about Paris or Coco Chanel, huh?” Grace teased.

Louise winked at her niece. “She’ll never spill.”

“Not even to me?” Grace asked.

“Never. Secrets are her passion. Along with these cookies.”

Sarah followed Mrs. Beabots into the room, holding a pink bundle. “Grace!” she squealed. “I’m so happy to see you!” She gave Grace a one-armed hug. “This is Charlotte. Annie’s on her way over. She had to walk Beau first. She’s dying to talk to you.”

“Goodness. I’m flattered, but why?”

“Oh,” Mrs. Beabots said impishly as she took Sarah’s coat. “You’ll see. She’s a million questions, that one. Tea, Sarah? You know you can have my mint-and-bourbon tea now that you’re not nursing.”

“True,” Sarah replied. “I’d love some tea.” She glanced at Grace. “Are you breastfeeding?”

“No. I had to go back to work five days after Jules was born. I took him to the studio with me, but formula let me be a bit more flexible with his feeding.”

“You’re kidding. They let you do that? Bring him in, I mean.”

Grace smiled. “Summer was a slow time for us and I’m the team leader. Though, once things ramped up in the fall, it was too hectic and Jules could feel my stress. I found a nanny, but she was clearly more interested in becoming a designer than she was in taking care of Jules. I was basically tutoring her while still doing the lion’s share of childcare.”

Sarah shook her head. “I can’t believe you got any work done at all! I’ve been able to take a longer mat leave, at least, but my whole day revolves around Charlotte. Sometimes I don’t even have time to eat, let alone do anything creative.”

Grace felt a rush of shame. The whole reason she’d come back to Indian Lake was that she couldn’t handle it all. How could anyone understand her motivation for leaving her baby here so she could continue her work half a world away? On the surface, she sounded like a heartless monster. She lifted her hand to Jules and let him curl his fingers around her forefinger. He smiled at her and when he did, the pacifier in his mouth wiggled and wobbled like it always did. Grace felt her heart tighten and then burst with love.