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The baby made a soft cooing noise in the back and Amelia’s expression softened. “But I suppose I can help you get set up. Does this mean you’re keeping her?”
The light ahead of them turned red, and as the car stopped, right on schedule, Katie started to scream.
When they started moving again and the baby quieted, he answered, “No, of course not. I mean, I’m not equipped to take care of a baby for a few days, much less, take care of her long-term.”
“So why didn’t you just let that Kim Lindsay take her? That’s what Social Services does, right?”
His stomach clenched at the thought of sending Katie O’Keefe into the foster system, even if it would be only for a short time. He remembered what it was like being shuttled from house to house. Not that he was in the foster care system, unless you referred to his extended family in that respect.
When he was ten his parents took off for California with dreams of fame and glory, at least that’s what they said. Mac had always felt as if they’d simply become bored with playing a family. They’d sent him to live at his grandmother’s for a short stay. They’d promised to send for him, but they never did. Oh, he got an occasional call or letter, always filled with empty promises. His parents couldn’t handle the responsibility of a kid.
His grandmother passed away when he was twelve, he stayed with his aunt for a year, but she wasn’t thrilled with having the responsibility of looking after a child.
Finally, he ended up moving in with a friend’s family during his freshman year of school. The Zumigalas had let him stay until he left for college. Despite the fact they’d treated him as a son, he’d always known he wasn’t. He’d always known he was living there at their discretion and any day they could decide to kick him out. He’d expected it, had waited for it. But they never had.
They still invited him home to Pittsburgh for every holiday. They were the closest thing Mac had to a family.
He had never understood why they’d taken a stranger into their home, taken on the responsibility of another child. After all, his own family didn’t want him, why had they?
He’d never really figured it out. But he was thankful. They had given him more than a house to live in, they’d given him a home.
He was going to find for Katie O’Keefe what the Zumigalas had given him…stability. A place to belong.
She might be too young to understand on an intellectual level how precarious her position was, but she’d have to recognize what was happening on an emotional level. And he wouldn’t do that to her.
No, she’d stay with him until he found her a family of her own. A permanent family. People who would love her and never desert her.
“Her mother left her to my care,” he said. “She trusted me to find her a suitable family, though neither of us really expected me to ever be in charge of the baby. But I am, and I will personally care for her until other arrangements can be made.”
“What kind of arrangements?” Amelia asked softly.
“I’ll find some family to adopt her. I mean, how hard can it be? She’s a beautiful baby. She’s only seven-months-old. There has to be hundreds of prospective families who would love to make her their daughter.”
Another red light, and the car filled with the baby’s screams.
“Do you think she’s hungry?”
“I don’t know. Basically, the old lady watching her just handed her and that diaper bag to me.”
“Why don’t you pull over somewhere and let’s try feeding her. Maybe she’d be happier then?”
“Okay.” He’d do anything to calm the baby down. Her pitiful wails were breaking his heart.
He pulled into a gas station. “I need to fill the tank anyway. I think the weather reports were right, and I want the tank topped off if it’s going to storm.”
Mac got out and started pumping the gas. He watched Amelia get out and climb into the back seat with the baby. He couldn’t help glancing in the back window as she opened up the diaper bag and found the bottle. She leaned over and started feeding Katie.
He watched her lean closer to the baby, saying something, though he couldn’t make out just what. She was smiling at the baby. He knew, even though she was looking at Katie and not at him, that her eyes were sparkling. Alight with that special something she had—that certain quality Amelia Gallagher had, that drew people to her.
Even babies.
Donovan once said she was gregarious and friendly, the perfect receptionist. Maybe. Though describing Amelia as gregarious might be accurate to his colleague, she’d never been overly friendly with Mac.
As a matter of fact, she’d been almost hostile.
She always picked at him.
Of course, he picked right back. Their banterish quarrels were well-known in the office.
Why did she always rub him the wrong way?
Mac realized the gas had stopped pumping. He replaced the nozzle, put the cap back on the tank and walked into the store to pay, still puzzling over Amelia and how she affected him.
Mia watched Mac disappear into the store. He’d been staring at her.
“What’s up with him, Katie?” she whispered.
There had been something in his voice as he spoke about Katie. Something that told her there was more to this situation than his wanting to find the baby a home. There had been an undercurrent of pain, of vulnerability, in his tone. She’d never heard anything like that before.
She knew that Larry did a lot of volunteer work. She’d always thought it was just a way for him to fulfill the firm’s requirement that each lawyer give back to the community by doing pro bono work. But now she wondered if there was something more to it.
Katie slurped enthusiastically at her bottle.
She’d been hungry. Very hungry if her speed at emptying it was any indication.
“Didn’t they feed you?” she asked.
Katie smiled without letting go of the bottle’s nipple. Milk bubbles formed at the gap.
“You are sweet,” Mia told her.
Katie gurgled her agreement just as Mac opened the door and got in. “Are you ready?”
“Sure. I’ll sit back here and let Katie finish her bottle before we get to the store.”
“Fine.”
It was almost a relief to be in the back with Katie. This way she didn’t have to deal with Mac looking at her.
It wasn’t as if she was shy, but he always made her feel as if he saw…
Well, she wasn’t sure what he saw, but whatever it was, it made her uncomfortable.
Almost as uncomfortable as her new questions about Mac’s motivations.
She looked at the baby and couldn’t help remember when her brothers were little. Her mother had let her feed them, just like she was feeding Katie now.
“You’re responsible for him, Mia,” her mother had told her. She’d been hardly more than a baby herself, but she’d taken care of first Marty, then Ryan.
After her father finally left, she tried to help her mother take care of the boys. Even though she was only a few years older than they were, she assumed more of a parental role than a sister’s.
But now that Ryan had graduated her job was done.
She could do all the things she’d dreamed about.
It wasn’t just a new car. She could travel.
Maybe even date.
Nothing serious. Mia didn’t want anything serious or committed. She wanted fun. She wanted adventure. She wanted to live out her dreams…if she could ever figure out what they were.
She sighed.
“You’re awfully quiet back there?”
She forced herself to put away thoughts of the past. It was better to concentrate on here and now.
“After all Katie’s screaming are you really complaining that it’s too quiet?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “Listen, after we shop, would you come back to my house and help, just for a while? I have to get a crib and whatever else she’ll need for however long I have her. Everything will need to be set up and I’ll need help with her. I mean, I’ll take you back to the office once it’s all settled so you can get your car.”
“Sure,” Mia said, without thinking. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
A couple hours later, the car was stuffed with multiple pounds of baby paraphernalia. Mac had bought out the baby store. Watching him mull over the merits of different baby monitors, trying to decide what size Onesies to buy…well, it had been cute.
And thinking the word cute as a description for Larry Mackenzie was just too strange for Mia. She just wanted to go home and forget this odd afternoon.
She was back in the front seat as they pulled into Mac’s driveway. Almost done, she thought with a sigh as he put the car in Park and turned off the ignition.
She studied his house. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected, though she couldn’t really have said what it was she did expect.
It was a neat, two-story brick home in Glenwood Hills, a lovely, older section of town. A huge tree stood dead-center in the front yard. In the summer it probably shaded the whole house. Right now, it stood like a snowy sentinel.
“Come on,” he said. “If you get Katie out, I’ll start unpacking the stuff.”
Doing so would probably take him a while. For a man who claimed he was giving the baby up, he’d bought more than what the baby would need for the next year.
A crib, a changing table, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, toys, stuffed animals, diapers—three different sizes because they weren’t sure what size she’d need—and formula.
“Come on, Katie,” Mia said as she unstrapped the seat.
“Here,” Mac said, tossing her the keys.
Mia carried the baby onto the porch, set the car seat down on the ground and unlocked the door.
“Switches are to your left,” Mac hollered.
Mia flipped the two switches there. One turned on the porch light, and one turned on a table lamp next to a dark leather couch. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the couch and set the car seat on it.
She studied the living room. The focal points were a huge fireplace and a piano. Did that mean Mac played the piano, or was it just for show?
He had a huge leather couch and a matching overstuffed chair with a knobby-looking afghan thrown carelessly over the back. And there was a picture on the wall. No, not a picture, a painting. It was an outdoor scene. A rustic-looking barn in a snowy setting.
There was a thump on the door, and Mia remembered Mac was bringing in boxes. She ran and opened the door for him.
“Sorry.”
“No problem. I’m going to just haul everything to the guest room. Katie can use that for a room while she’s here.”
“Do you need help?”
“Let me get the little stuff first, then you can help me get the crib.”
“Okay.” She watched him make his way up the staircase to the left of the door and then turned her attention back to Katie. “Hey, you. Let’s get you unbundled.”
She unzipped the little sack that fit over the seat and acted as a coat.
“There you are,” she cooed as the baby burbled more happy little bubbles at her. “Oh, you’re going to melt some hearts, let me tell you.”
“Does she answer back?” Mac asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“No. Babies don’t generally talk at this age.”
“I thought you weren’t an expert.”
“I’m not, but you said she was seven months. I don’t think they really talk until they’re older than that.”
“Oh.”
“I’m going to leave her in the car seat until I’m done helping you. I don’t want her to get into trouble, and I might know she doesn’t talk, but I’m not sure if babies crawl at this age.”
She hurried to the door. The faster she helped Mac get the baby settled, the faster she could get out of here. This personal glimpse at Mac’s home was leaving her feeling…unsettled. She didn’t know why.
Somehow it was easier to picture him living in a sterile, bachelor pad, than this cozy little place. It felt warm, yet lived-in here. It felt…almost comfortable.
Homey.
Homey and Larry Mackenzie?
Now those were two thoughts she never imagined going together.
They carried the box for the crib into the guest room. Again, the room didn’t fit Mia’s mental picture of what Mac should have. It had a quilt on a double bed, and old family photos decorating the walls.
There was even a sampler.
Mia would have liked a chance to study all these bits and pieces of Mac, but she couldn’t figure out why she’d want to. His house might not be what she’d imagined it to be, but that didn’t mean Mac wasn’t the most annoying human she’d ever met.
“I’ll just leave you to it,” she said and hurried back to the baby. She freed Katie from the car seat while Mac went to work on the crib.
