The Baby Consultant

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As he smiled at the two women before him, he was feeling a little jumpy around the edges. Much as he hated to admit it, he owed Frannie an apology. He’d been planning to call her, but this was better.

“Hi, Jack.” Deirdre greeted him with a warm smile, her heart-shaped face lighting up. She looked... worn down. Not just tired from too little sleep, but wiped out, as if she was running on nerves, having depleted her reserves of energy. Surveying her two little boys, who were racing up and down the field with a couple of sticks they’d sneaked off with when the owners weren’t looking, he could see why. Those two would keep anybody on the edge of insanity.

“Hi, Dee.” Wrapping his free arm about her shoulders, he gave her a gentle peck on the cheek. “How are you?” It wasn’t a routine courtesy; he was concerned. He’d known her since they were kids, and he knew things hadn’t turned out well between her and the jerk she had married. She hadn’t been to a game all season, which was unusual in itself.

“Passable.” She brushed off his query and indicated the woman standing silently to one side. “You’ve met Frannie, I believe.”

“Hello, Jack.” Her voice was quiet but not as frigid as he’d expected. Or as frigid as he deserved, maybe. She had been right to be ticked off by his assumption that she could fit a baby into her schedule more easily than he could. He couldn’t figure how he’d come to that idiotic conclusion; fatigue was his only defense. He’d been so wiped out after dealing with the estate and taking on Alexa his brain cells were making faulty connections.

“Hi, Frannie.” He should apologize, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Her little nose was so straight he thought he might have to run a finger down it just for fun, and her eyes were as flirty as ever above the lush curve of her lips, though he was pretty sure she didn’t know how she looked. She was wearing shorts of blue jeans material, with a pretty checked shirt that didn’t quite meet the waistband of the shorts. With each move she made, he caught a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, bare midriff. For some reason, even though her clothing wasn’t painted on or skimpy, she reminded him of a comic strip he’d read as a kid in which a hillbilly girl thoroughly filled out the briefest imaginable clothes. He’d always liked that comic strip.

“How’s Alexa doing?”

Her voice startled him. Good thing she wasn’t a mind reader. As he tried to catch her eye, he noticed that she looked at the baby rather than at him.

“Pretty well,” he said, forcing his mind to make rational conversation. “She has her first cold, but we’re scraping along pretty well together.”

“Lee! You may not hit your brother with that stick!” Deirdre looked over her shoulder at them as she trotted toward her sons, who were now tearing into each other with the sticks. “I’ll be back in a minute, Frannie, and then we’ll go.”

The silence was uncomfortable after she left.

He cleared his throat. Hurry up, Ferris, eat all the humble pie in one big bite. “Look, I’m sorry about the other week. I was a jerk and I don’t blame you for being mad—”

“Hey, Jack! Give me a call.” One of the “groupies” who followed the team patted him familiarly on the butt as she walked by.

He wanted to snarl at the woman to keep her hands to herself and tell her she’d grow old waiting for him to call, but as usual, the manners his father had drilled into him kicked in, and he gave the girl a wave and a smile. “Hey, Iris.”

When he looked back at Frannie, she had a blank, polite expression on her face. “Apology accepted,” she said briskly. But in her eyes, he could see an “I told you so,” and he knew she was marking another tally of condemnation in the column labeled Reasons to Write Off Jack.

She started to turn away, but he grabbed her arm, holding her in place. Great, Ferris, really smooth. Real polite, grabbing her like some ape in a zoo. He suddenly felt stung by the same emotion he’d felt the day she’d practically kicked him out of her store. It wasn’t anger, and it wasn’t annoyance. And it couldn’t be hurt, because he’d have to care about her for her to hurt him. But her classification of him as a...a playboy who didn’t care about women had really pushed his buttons.

He’d thought about the encounter every day since then, examining his conscience for twinges of guilt that might identify her accusations as fact. Fact was that he liked seeing women smile, liked knowing he’d made them feel good for a few minutes in their day. Fact was that he never was rude intentionally to the fairer sex, even when they annoyed the hell out of him. Fact was that he honestly didn’t go around seducing women every place he stopped. And fact was that while he’d had his share of liaisons over the years, he wasn’t indiscriminate, and the number wasn’t in double digits, as she clearly believed.

“You’re really wrong about this,” he said. “I’m not some kind of superman with women.”

“I never said you were,” she pointed out.

“Look,” he said. “I hate being at odds with people, and I don’t feel like you’re happy with me, even though you theoretically accepted my apology.”

“There was nothing theoretical about it.”

“Yes, there was.”

“I told you I accepted your apology.” She glared at him.

He knew she was serious. He wanted to be, but it was just too much. Her little chin stuck up in the air as if she were daring him to throw a punch, and her eyes were stormy. Her brown hair was straight and shiny. It framed her face and he found himself fascinated by her lips, as he’d been every time he’d seen her. She looked as kissable as any girl he’d ever met.

“You’re going to accuse me of flirting if I say this, but I swear I’m not. You just look...really, really cute when you’re mad.”

“I’m not mad!”

The charged silence lasted for a long moment. Then, as he raised one eyebrow, her face melted into amusement and she laughed ruefully. “Okay, so I was mad. I’m not now.”

“Good. Friends?” He knew as he held out his hand to shake hers that he was going to have more than friendship from her one day, that he was going to have her in his bed for a long, long time, until whatever magic she worked on him faded and friendship was all that was left. But it probably wasn’t wise to explain that to her right now.

“Friends,” Frannie said.

The diaper bag chose that moment to slide off his shoulder, and Jack juggled Alexa, the bag, his duffel and his stick while he hitched the strap back into place.

She put up a hand to help him, and her fingers slipped briefly over his. Pow. There it was again, that explosion of awareness. He was aware of her in a way he’d never been of a woman before, and when he touched her skin...his own skin did some very interesting things.

When she’d come into his office that first time, he’d noticed she was attractive in a quiet way. He’d been trying to get off the phone from...he forgot the name, but it was a woman he had no plans to call. Ever. And he wished she’d quit calling him.

Frannie had perched sedately on a chair and a bit of leg slipped out from beneath her slim skirt, and his interest had picked up. He had decided to ask her out for dinner if her personality was as nice as her package.

And then she’d dropped those papers and they’d knelt together on the floor picking them up. She’d paused and looked into his face—and the strongest rush of physical need he’d ever experienced hit him like a solid blow from an opponent. For two cents, he’d have taken her right there on the floor. He’d been so astonished he’d just stared at her until he realized he must be making her uncomfortable. He’d never had such a difficult time keeping a meeting on a business footing.

She, on the other hand, had been cool and collected, interested only in what he might come up with to promote her business. She’d walked out of his office and he’d decided to hurry and get the business transaction out of the way so that he could ask her out.

And then he’d gotten a phone call from Florida that changed his life and chased every rational thought out of his head.

What was it about her that hit him in the gut every time she was near? She wasn’t curvy or top-heavy like most of the girls he’d dated, though her legs were nicely trim and her ankles slender. Nor was she blond, another common denominator in his past preferences. She was just... incredibly sexy. Arousing. All of his senses perked up when she got close; his body forgot he was a civilized man. He could almost smell her, although he couldn’t have described it.

Alexa was waking up and he looked down at the baby. His baby. He was beginning to appreciate just how much his life was going to change. He couldn’t ask a woman out right now—what would he do with Alexa? He still hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave her with a sitter. She came to work with him each day, although it was getting more and more difficult as she grew and changed every week.

“Somebody’s getting hungry again,” he said to Frannie.

“Babies tend to do that.” She smiled. Then she hesitated. “Jack, I’ve been meaning to call you.”

Great!

“I’m not going to be able to use your ideas for the brochure right now. The one you came up with would be lovely, but I just can’t swing it right now.”

Deirdre, sons in tow, was advancing across the grass toward them. He couldn’t think. As Alexa began to voice a protest at having to wait so long for a dry bottom and a bottle, Frannie reached out and stroked a finger over one tiny hand before she turned away. “I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

Three

Alexa had been extraordinarily fussy all day.

Jack paced around the condo with her in his arms as her screams got louder and angrier. What was he doing wrong? He’d checked the usual cause of unhappiness—wet diaper—and tried a bottle, but she’d refused it. She hadn’t slept in hours.

Neither had he, for that matter. It was almost midnight on Saturday night.

His anxiety mounted. He thought she seemed hot, so he took off her little sleeper. Maybe that would make her happier.

But she shrieked louder than ever. He paced around the table in his dining area so many times he was sure he’d worn a path. God, what could be wrong? He knew next to nothing about babies before Alexa. Now he knew almost next to nothing.

He wished he had Frannie’s expertise and years of experience. He’d bet Frannie would have Lex happy and gurgling in her usual good-natured way if she were here.

The thought barely registered in his brain before he knew what he was going to do.

He fumbled the phone book out of the drawer, found her number and punched buttons with his thumb.

One ring. Two rings. Oh, no, he’d forgotten it was the middle of the night. She was probably sleeping.

Or out on a date.

“Hello?”

He’d never felt a rush of relief so sweet. He didn’t know whether it was because he needed help or because he knew she wasn’t out with some other guy, and he didn’t much care. “Frannie? Hi, it’s me. Jack. I’m really sorry about the time. I forgot it was so late, but the thing is—”

“What on earth is wrong with that baby?” Her voice sounded alarmed.

“I don’t know,” he said, speaking loudly to be heard over the screaming. “I’ve tried everything I can think of. I thought maybe you could suggest something.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Please. That would be great. If it’s not too much of an imposi—”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

On her end, the phone clicked off abruptly.

His knees felt weak and he sat down before he fell down. Lex was still screaming bloody murder, but now he could handle it. Frannie was coming.

Her van whipped into his driveway exactly eight minutes later. He knew because he was counting. How many traffic laws had she broken? Didn’t matter. He’d gladly pay every ticket she incurred.

“Let me look at her.” That was all the greeting she offered. He surrendered his screaming niece to another pair of arms and waited expectantly.

Frannie had barely touched Lex’s little body when she raised her head, and the look on her face scared him to death.

“What is it?”

“She’s burning up with fever. Jack, call your doctor right now. I’m going to put her in a cool bath and sponge her down until you talk to him.”

He scrambled for the phone again, listening as Frannie carried the screaming baby up to the bathroom. It occurred to him that she would need towels, but as the doctor’s answering service came on the line, he decided Frannie would find anything she needed.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way to the hospital.

The nurses in the emergency room steered Frannie to an exam room the minute they walked in. Frannie didn’t even hesitate as she carried the infant down the hall. A doctor walked toward him, explaining that he had spoken with Jack’s doctor and that he’d be examining Alexa.

He nodded. He was dying to be back there with them, but first he had to stop at the desk and give them his insurance information.

As soon as possible, he joined Frannie in the exam room. She stood against a wall, arms folded tightly over her chest, as a doctor and nurse bent over Alexa, who was shrieking and screaming on the table. Without speaking, he slipped an arm around her shoulders. Just that simple action was comforting. He didn’t feel so alone, or so terrified.

They had a diagnosis in under ten minutes. Alexa had whopping infections in both ears.

He felt like the lowest of the low as the doctor handed him a prescription. “We’ve given her a little medication to bring that fever down and knock out the pain. Once that takes effect and I’m satisfied the fever’s on its way out, you can take her home. Right now, you could go and have this filled. There’s an all-night pharmacy right across the street. Your wife can stay with the little one.”

He caught Frannie’s startled glance out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t even bother to correct the guy. If she really was his wife, they probably wouldn’t be here right now. She would have known Lex’s personality change wasn’t sheer contrariness, but a sign of illness. She would know about diaper rash and when to start solids, about shot schedules and growth curves and developmental delays... all the stuff he’d been reading about in the few spare moments he’d had since he became Alexa’s father by default.

If he were to marry again, not that he was considering the idea, Frannie would be the type of woman he’d choose, he thought as he waited for the pharmacist to fill the prescription. She loved Alexa, and she knew stuff about raising kids that he’d never even heard of. Their sex life would be fantastic. At the mere thought, his body went on full alert—and he did mean full alert, he thought ruefully, so that he had to turn hastily and examine the display of literature on the wall near the pharmacy. If he wasn’t careful, the lady pharmacist was liable to have him arrested as some kind of pervert who got off reading medical pamphlets.

So enough about what it would be like to sleep with Frannie every night. Even the idea of falling asleep with her snuggled close against him was appealing.

Forget it. Wanting to be close was what got you in trouble the last time, dope. Why would you want to set yourself up to get shot down again?

The answer was simple: he wouldn’t.

With prescription in hand, he jogged back across the street and into the emergency department. Seeing him, the girl at the desk smiled warmly and stood. “I think they’re ready to go.” She disappeared, and in a few minutes Frannie came out through the swinging doors from the E.R.’s interior, carrying Alexa.

He held up the bag to show Frannie he’d gotten the medicine, suddenly feeling incredibly weary. Alexa wasn’t screaming anymore, but the sound of her pained cry would haunt him for a long time. Why in the world hadn’t he realized she was hurting? It didn’t take a rocket scientist to be a parent, even a half-decent one. Which, no doubt, was what Frannie would say.