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A couple of the other workers had apparently been listening in on the conversation and rolled their chairs toward her cubicle, as well. “You can’t stop the story there,” Karen said.
Originally Michelle had hoped to avoid this kind of attention, but she accepted that it was inevitable. “When my aunt was almost thirty, she was absolutely sure she’d never marry or have a family.”
“Susannah Townsend?”
This news astonished the small gathering, as Michelle had guessed it would. Besides working with Nate, her mother and aunt had started their own company, Motherhood, Inc., about ten years ago and they’d done incredibly well. It seemed that everything the Townsend name touched turned to gold.
“I know it sounds crazy, considering everything that’s happened since.”
“Exactly,” Jolyn murmured.
“Aunt Susannah’s a great mother. But,” Michelle added, “at one time, she couldn’t even figure out how to change a diaper.” Little did the others know that the diaper Susannah had such difficulty changing had been Michelle’s.
“This is a joke, right?”
“I swear it’s true. Hardly anyone knows the whole story.”
“What really happened?” the third woman, whom Michelle didn’t know, asked.
Michelle shrugged. “Actually, I happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother was desperate for a babysitter and asked her sister, my aunt Susannah, to look after me.”
“How old were you?”
“About nine months,” she admitted.
“So how did everything turn out the way it did?” Jolyn asked.
“I’d love to hear, too,” Karen said, and the third woman nodded vigorously.
Michelle leaned back in her chair. “Make yourselves comfortable, my friends, because I have a story to tell,” she began dramatically. “A story in which I play a crucial part.”
The three women scooted their chairs closer.
“It all started seventeen years ago…”
CHAPTER 1 (#u88a839e0-ba23-5e05-b2fa-5b6f8be675e5)
Susannah Simmons blamed her sister, Emily, for this. As far as she was concerned, her weekend was going to be the nightmare on Western Avenue. Emily, a nineties version of the “earth mother,” had asked Susannah, the dedicated career woman, to babysit nine-month-old Michelle.
“Emily, I don’t think so.” Susannah had balked when her sister first phoned. What did she, a twenty-eight-year-old business executive, know about babies? The answer was simple—not much.
“I’m desperate.”
Her sister must have been to ask her. Everyone knew what Susannah was like around babies—not only Michelle, but infants in general. She just wasn’t the motherly type. Interest rates, negotiations, troubleshooting, staff motivation, these were her strong points. Not formula, teething and diapers.
It was nothing short of astonishing that the same two parents could have produced such completely different daughters. Emily baked her own oat-bran muffins, subscribed to Organic Gardening and hung her wash to dry on a clothesline—even in winter.
Susannah, on the other hand, wasn’t the least bit domestic and had no intention of ever cultivating the trait. She was too busy with her career to let such tedious tasks disrupt her corporate lifestyle. She was currently a director in charge of marketing for H&J Lima, the nation’s largest sporting goods company. The position occupied almost every minute of her time.
Susannah Simmons was a woman on the rise. Her name appeared regularly in trade journals as an up-and-coming achiever. None of that mattered to Emily, however, who needed a babysitter.
“You know I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t an emergency,” Emily had pleaded.
Susannah felt herself weakening. Emily was, after all, her younger sister. “Surely, there’s got to be someone better qualified.”
Emily had hesitated, then tearfully blurted, “I don’t know what I’ll do if you won’t take Michelle.” She began to sob pitifully. “Robert’s left me.”
“What?” If Emily hadn’t gained her full attention earlier, she did now. If her sister was an earth mother, then her brother-in-law, Robert Davidson, was Abraham Lincoln, as solid and upright as a thirty-foot oak. “I don’t believe it.”
“It’s true,” Emily wailed. “He…he claims I give Michelle all my attention and that I never have enough energy left to be a decent wife.” She paused to draw in a quavery breath. “I know he’s right…but being a good mother demands so much time and effort.”
“I thought Robert wanted six children.”
“He does…or did.” Emily’s sobbing began anew.
“Oh, Emily, it can’t be that bad,” Susannah had murmured in a soothing voice, thinking as fast as she could. “I’m sure you misunderstood Robert. He loves you and Michelle, and I’m positive he has no intention of leaving you.”
“He does,” Emily went on to explain between hiccuping sobs. “He asked me to find someone to look after Michelle for a while. He says we have to have some time to ourselves, or our marriage is dead.”
That sounded pretty drastic to Susannah.
“I swear to you, Susannah, I’ve called everyone who’s ever babysat Michelle before, but no one’s available. No one—not even for one night. When I told Robert I hadn’t found a sitter, he got so angry…and that’s not like Robert.”
Susannah agreed. The man was the salt of the earth. Not once in the five years she’d known him could she recall him even raising his voice.
“He told me that if I didn’t take this weekend trip to San Francisco with him he was going alone. I tried to find someone to watch Michelle,” Emily said. “I honestly tried, but there’s no one else, and now Robert’s home and he’s loading up the car and, Susannah, he’s serious. He’s going to leave without me and from the amount of luggage he’s taking, I don’t think he plans to come back.”
The tale of woe barely skimmed the surface of Susannah’s mind. The key word that planted itself in fertile ground was weekend. “I thought you said you only needed me for one night?” she asked.
At that point, Susannah should’ve realized she wasn’t much brighter than a brainless mouse, innocently nibbling away at the cheese in a steel trap.
Emily sniffled once more, probably for effect, Susannah mused darkly.
“We’ll be flying back to Seattle early Sunday afternoon. Robert’s got some business in San Francisco Saturday morning, but the rest of the weekend is free…and it’s been such a long time since we’ve been alone.”
“Two days and two nights,” Susannah said slowly, mentally tabulating the hours.
“Oh, please, Susannah, my whole marriage is at stake. You’ve always been such a good big sister. I know I don’t deserve anyone as good as you.”
Silently Susannah agreed.
“Somehow I’ll find a way to repay you,” Emily continued.
Susannah closed her eyes. Her sister’s idea of repaying her was usually freshly baked zucchini bread shortly after Susannah announced she was watching her weight.
“Susannah, please!”
It was then that Susannah had caved in to the pressure. “All right. Go ahead and bring Michelle over.”
Somewhere in the distance, she could’ve sworn she heard the echo of a mousetrap slamming shut.
By the time Emily and Robert had deposited their offspring at Susannah’s condominium, her head was swimming with instructions. After planting a kiss on her daughter’s rosy cheek, Emily handed the clinging Michelle to a reluctant Susannah.
That was when the nightmare began in earnest.
As soon as her sister left, Susannah could feel herself tense up. Even as a teenager, she hadn’t done a lot of babysitting; it wasn’t that she didn’t like children, but kids didn’t seem to take to her.
Holding the squalling infant on her hip, Susannah paced while her mind buzzed with everything she was supposed to remember. She knew what to do in case of diaper rash, colic and several other minor emergencies, but Emily hadn’t said one word about how to keep Michelle from crying.
“Shhh,” Susannah cooed, jiggling her niece against her hip. She swore the child had a cry that could’ve been heard a block away.
After the first five minutes, her calm cool composure began to crack under the pressure. She could be in real trouble here. The tenant agreement she’d signed specifically stated “no children.”
“Hello, Michelle, remember me?” Susannah asked, doing everything she could think of to quiet the baby. Didn’t the kid need to breathe? “I’m your auntie Susannah, the business executive.”
Her niece wasn’t impressed. Pausing only a few seconds to gulp for air, Michelle increased her volume and glared at the door as if she expected her mother to miraculously appear if she cried long and hard enough.
“Trust me, kid, if I knew a magic trick that’d bring your mother back, I’d use it now.”
Ten minutes. Emily had been gone a total of ten minutes. Susannah was seriously considering giving the state Children’s Protective Services a call and claiming that a stranger had abandoned a baby on her doorstep.
“Mommy will be home soon,” Susannah murmured wistfully.
Michelle screamed louder. Susannah started to worry about her stemware. The kid’s voice could shatter glass.
More tortured minutes passed, each one an eternity. Susannah was desperate enough to sing. Not knowing any appropriate lullabies, she began with a couple of ditties from her childhood, but quickly exhausted those. Michelle didn’t seem to appreciate them anyway. Since Susannah didn’t keep up with the current top twenty, the best she could do was an old Christmas favorite. Somehow singing “Jingle Bells” in the middle of September didn’t feel right.
“Michelle,” Susannah pleaded, willing to stand on her head if it would keep the baby from wailing, “your mommy will be back, I assure you.”
Michelle apparently didn’t believe her.
“How about if I buy municipal bonds and put them in your name?” Susannah tried next. “Tax-free bonds, Michelle! This is an offer you shouldn’t refuse. All you need to do is stop crying. Oh, please stop crying.”
Michelle wasn’t interested.
“All right,” Susannah cried, growing desperate. “I’ll sign over my Microsoft stock. That’s my final offer, so you’d better grab it while I’m in a generous mood.”
Michelle answered by gripping Susannah’s collar with both of her chubby fists and burying her wet face in a once spotless white silk blouse.
“You’re a tough nut to crack, Michelle Margaret Davidson,” Susannah muttered, gently patting her niece’s back as she paced. “You want blood, don’t you, kid? You aren’t going to be satisfied with anything less.”
A half hour after Emily had left, Susannah was ready to resort to tears herself. She’d started singing again, returning to her repertoire of Christmas songs. “You’d better watch out,/ you’d better not cry,/ Aunt Susannah’s here telling you why….”
She was just getting into the lyrics when someone knocked heavily on her door.
Like a thief caught in the act, Susannah whirled around, fully expecting the caller to be the building superintendent. No doubt there’d been complaints and he’d come to confront her.
Expelling a weary sigh, Susannah realized she was defenseless. The only option she had was to throw herself on his mercy. She squared her shoulders and walked across the lush carpet, prepared to do exactly that.
Only it wasn’t necessary. The building superintendent wasn’t the person standing on the other side of her door. It was her new neighbor, wearing a baseball cap and a faded T-shirt, and looking more than a little disgruntled.
“The crying and the baby I can take,” he said, crossing his arms and relaxing against the doorframe, “but your singing has got to go.”
“Very funny,” she grumbled.
“The kid’s obviously distressed.”
Susannah glared at him. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”
“Do something.”
“I’m trying.” Apparently Michelle didn’t like this stranger any more than Susannah did because she buried her face in Susannah’s collar and rubbed it vigorously back and forth. That at least helped muffle her cries, but there was no telling what it would do to white silk. “I offered her my Microsoft stock and it didn’t do any good,” Susannah explained. “I was even willing to throw in my municipal bonds.”
“You offered her stocks and bonds, but did you suggest dinner?”
“Dinner?” Susannah echoed. She hadn’t thought of that. Emily claimed she’d fed Michelle, but Susannah vaguely remembered something about a bottle.
“The poor thing’s probably starving.”
“I think she’s supposed to have a bottle,” Susannah said. She turned and glanced at the assorted bags Emily and Robert had deposited in her condominium, along with the necessary baby furniture. From the number of things stacked on the floor, it must seem as if she’d been granted permanent guardianship. “There’s got to be one in all this paraphernalia.”
“I’ll find it—you keep the kid quiet.”
Susannah nearly laughed out loud. If she was able to keep Michelle quiet, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. She imagined she could convince CIA agents to hand over top-secret documents more easily than she could silence one distressed nine-month-old infant.
Without waiting for an invitation, her neighbor moved into the living room. He picked up one of the three overnight bags and rooted through that. He hesitated when he pulled out a stack of freshly laundered diapers, and glanced at Susannah. “I didn’t know anyone used cloth diapers anymore.”
“My sister doesn’t believe in anything disposable.”
“Smart woman.”
Susannah made no comment, and within a few seconds noted that he’d come across a plastic bottle. He removed the protective cap and handed the bottle to Susannah, who looked at it and blinked. “Shouldn’t the milk be heated?”
“It’s room temperature, and frankly, at this point I don’t think the kid’s going to care.”
He was right. The instant Susannah placed the rubber nipple in her niece’s mouth, Michelle grasped the bottle with both hands and sucked at it greedily.
For the first time since her mother had left, Michelle stopped crying. The silence was pure bliss. Susannah’s tension eased, and she released a sigh that went all the way through her body.
“You might want to sit down,” he suggested next.
Susannah did, and with Michelle cradled awkwardly in her arms, leaned against the back of the sofa, trying not to jostle her charge.
“That’s better, isn’t it?” Her neighbor pushed the baseball cap farther back on his head, looking pleased with himself.
