The Bachelor and the Babies

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Harrison knew just the place.

He paced, more to keep himself awake than because it made any difference to Matthew.

Poor kid. At a time like this, a baby needed his mother. Just how far out in the wilderness was Stephanie anyway? Her group had only left Saturday morning. How far could a bunch of women hike in a day?

Over the din, Harrison heard a knock on the door. Great. Which of his neighbors had the baby awakened?

He looked down at himself. He was wearing loose knit boxer shorts, his usual sleeping attire. Clutching the baby to him, he peered out the peephole.

An eye peeped back at him.

Startled he jerked backward, which set Matthew off on another round of sobbing.

More knocking. “Harry—Harrison? It’s Carrie.”

“Terrific,” he muttered to himself and flung open the door.

“What are you doing to the baby?” she demanded. “I’m not doing anything to him! He’s teething.”

“Ohhh, poor Matthew. Come to Carrie.”

She held out her arms and Harrison gladly relinquished his nephew.

Carrie headed for the couch, talking nonsense to the baby, and darned if Matthew didn’t tone down his bawling to a few hiccuppy sobs.

Soon, even those subsided.

Carrie was an angel, an angel of mercy dressed in black leather, patterned stockings, boots and enough jewelry to lard a Nevada silver mine.

“He’s exhausted,” she whispered as the baby’s eyes drooped.

Matthew wasn’t the only one. “That’s a trick. He does it just to give you hope, then snatches it away,” Harrison grumbled. He lowered himself onto the chair by the sofa. Every muscle ached.

“You can hear him crying all over the complex,” Carrie said.

“Did he wake you up?”

“Do I look like I’ve been asleep?”

Harrison took in the dark eye makeup and the way she’d bunched part of her hair on top of her head. No telling what she’d been doing. “You look like a corrupted doll.”

She quickly looked down, but not fast enough to hide the flash of hurt in her eyes.

Harrison felt guilty for taking the verbal jab. “I meant...well, the contrast between the way you’re dressed and the fact that you’re holding a baby...” Oh, give her the compliment. “By the way, black leather is a good look for you.”

She didn’t look up, but she smiled. “I got home twenty minutes ago and started writing up my reviews. Saturday is my busiest night.”

Matthew gave a shuddering sob, then wrinkled his face. Carrie reached for the bottle on the lamp table. “Is this the one you were trying to feed him?”

“Yeah.” How had she known he hadn’t been able to get Matthew to take his bottle? “He didn’t want it.”

“Maybe he’d like a little now.”

Matthew latched onto the bottle as though he hadn’t been fed in days. Within minutes, though, it was clear that he’d fallen asleep.

Harrison took him from Carrie’s arms and put him in the playpen.

Together, they crept toward the door.

This was twice Carrie had helped him, and Harrison was uncomfortably aware of being in her debt.

He was also aware of other things, namely, that he was not wearing a whole lot of clothes and that leather really, really was a great look for her.

“Thanks for stopping by,” he said, wondering if a kiss on the cheek might be in order.

“It’s okay. I’ve got to get these pieces written and I couldn’t concentrate with the crying.”

“Matthew was that loud?” Harrison opened the door.

Carrie turned to face him. “I could hear him through the duct work. You know, you’d better be careful. You don’t want to get crosswise with the condo board. I know from experience that they’re very strict.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Harry, that this is an adult-only complex.”

CHAPTER THREE

“HAWEE?” A small hand patted his face, barely missing his eye.

Harrison struggled back to consciousness, feeling as if he’d been hit by a truck.

“Hawee?”

“Nathan, buddy, what time is it?” Squinting at the digital clock-radio, Harrison groaned when he saw that it was 6:20 in the morning. At least he hoped it was morning. What if he’d slept all day?

He forced his eyes all the way open and turned on the radio. An organ blasted through the speakers. Church music. Sunday. Sunday morning.

He collapsed back onto the pillows.

“Joose?” asked Nathan hopefully.

“’S not time for juice,” Harrison mumbled. “It’s still sleepy time.”

Nathan didn’t argue with him. Seconds later, Harrison heard the crackling sound chubby legs wrapped in extra padded diapers made when they walked.

It grew fainter.

He wanted to go back to sleep. Desperately. This was prime sleep time, especially since he’d missed a chunk of his regularly scheduled sleep.

However... Rolling out of bed, Harrison followed Nathan.

The little boy was squatting by the playpen poking his finger through the net at Matthew’s head.

If Harrison had arrived three seconds earlier, Matthew might have remained asleep. That’ll teach you.

They all ate cereal for breakfast. Matthew’s was a bit of unappetizing reconstituted white flakes, but he seemed to like it well enough.

Four hours later, Harrison was desperate for both sleep and adult company. It wouldn’t be cheating to call one of the sitters on the list, would it? After all, if he had a wife, he’d be able to take a break. Harrison only needed a couple of hours. He’d go for coffee and read the paper. Shower and shave, even. So far, he hadn’t because he wasn’t comfortable leaving Nathan unsupervised.

Harrison called all three sitters. All three sitters were busy.

Even worse, they were busy tomorrow.

What kind of sitters were these? Harrison hadn’t considered the possibility that at least one of the three wouldn’t be available.

Who could he get to watch the boys? He didn’t know any baby-sitters. Yes, he was sure there were professional agencies he could call, but Jon and Stephanie didn’t want that and Harrison had agreed to play by their rules.

Okay, who owed him a favor? As he cut up chunks of banana for Nathan’s lunch and watched Matthew’s attempts to crawl, Harrison uncomfortably remembered the times he’d criticized employees for not having adequate backup child care plans in place.

That prompted an idea. Abandoning Nathan to his banana, Harrison recorded a memo to himself about establishing an emergency day care center for his employees. He wasn’t about to get into the child care business, but if he stressed emergency, meaning short-term, and kept things simple, but licensed, he could see how employee efficiency and productivity would be increased.

As plans raced through his mind, Harrison became more enthusiastic about the entire child care issue. He should kiss his brother’s feet for pointing out a weakness in the Rothwell time-management system.

Harrison became oblivious to his two charges, remembering them only when socially unacceptable smells from Matthew’s diaper registered.

Resigned, Harrison checked on Nathan before cleaning up Matthew.

Nathan had squashed banana in his hair.

He’d also dumped it over the side of the tray and smeared it along the doorjamb. Harrison stared at him, then handed him more chunks. “Have fun.” At least it would keep the little boy occupied.

He slipped on banana on his way out of the kitchen.

Nap time, blessed nap time arrived. Harrison took his long-awaited shower, then intended to try. to find a baby-sitter for tomorrow, but it was so quiet and he was so tired...

Something woke him up. For once, it wasn’t Matthew crying, though he was making noises. There was another noise that Harrison couldn’t identify.

Nathan wasn’t in his room. Fully awakened by the shot of adrenaline to his system, Harrison ran down the hall where he found Nathan. Matthew wasn’t visible.

What was visible was a mountain of diapers, big, little and overnight-size, all mixed together inside the playpen.

“Matthew?”

“Matt in dare.” Nathan giggled and pointed, but Harrison was already digging out his younger nephew. Fortunately the baby didn’t seem upset at being buried.

Exhaling, Harrison sat on the couch and stared at the playpen, then at Nathan.

“Uh-oh,” said the little boy.

“Uh-oh is right, buddy.”

He couldn’t get angry. Nathan had been bored, no real harm had been done and this was one of those situations Harrison might find funny in the extremely distant future.

“Go get the diaper box, Nathan,” he said, not knowing if Nathan would or not.

“Game!” shouted Nathan and ran off.

“What have you got to say for yourself, Matthew? Did you feel like you were in an igloo?”

A drooling Matthew looked as though he couldn’t decide whether he was unhappy or not. Harrison definitely wanted him happy.

“Hungry, sport?” Harrison spread out a blanket and set Matthew on it, dumped some toys around him, then retreated to the kitchen to make a bottle.

Nathan dragged a diaper box into the room. “Hawee?”

“In here, Nathan. Put the diaper box by the playpen.” As he poured formula into a bottle, Harrison watched Nathan from the bar. The little boy stood without moving, then picked up the cardboard box and walked over to the blanket where Matthew was chewing on some rubber thing. Without warning, Nathan threw the box on top of the baby, who promptly started crying.

“Nathan! No! You hurt Matthew!”

The sound of Harrison’s raised voice startled Nathan and he, too, began to howl.

But Matthew was Harrison’s immediate concern. After checking and finding nothing more than a red mark on his head, Harrison tried to comfort him. “You’re okay, Matthew. Come on, buddy, shake it off.”

Nobody was shaking off anything.

Harrison wasn’t at all surprised when he heard the knock at the door. He opened it without checking to see who was there. He just knew.

Carrie, or a version of Carrie, stood at the door. She wore a long, light-colored dress with a ribbon tied at the waist. Her hair was held back from her face with a band.

“I thought I’d come check on you on my way out.”

“You mean you could hear us from the parking lot.”

“Yeah.” She grinned and walked past him.

Harrison eyed her getup. “You look like Little Bo Peep.”

“And you look like, uh, heck. Real bad heck.” She sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. “Hey, Nathan, what’s the matter?”

As Nathan sobbed out his grievances against his uncle Hawee, Harrison checked his appearance in the foyer mirror. Yeah, he had a bad case of bed head caused by falling asleep when his hair was wet.