Age Before Beauty (6 page)

Then she stiffened. She needed to talk to him about Varie Cose. They didn’t have much time before Joanie woke and demanded her fifth meal of the day.

She pulled away and smiled with regret up into his face. “Later, lover boy. Right now I need to talk to you about something important.”

Disappointment flooded his eyes, but he gave her a crooked grin. “Story of my life lately.” He took a reluctant step backward. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

“Uh, have a seat.” Allie pointed at the chair in the corner, and then perched on the edge of the bed as he settled himself. “As you know, I’m supposed to go back to work in a few weeks.”

“November eighth.”

She nodded. “Well, I’ve been thinking. What if I took this opportunity to change careers?”

His stare was completely blank.

“It’s great timing, actually,” she rushed on. “I mean, they’ve had five weeks to get used to doing things without me at the office. I talked to Gina the other day, and she said the girl who’s been covering my desk is really on top of things. I’m sure they barely miss me anymore.” In fact, her boss had called to confirm the exact date of Allie’s return to work, but she
had
mentioned that things were going well at the office.

“I thought you liked your job.”

“I do. But really, there’s only so far I can move up in state government. If I’m ever going to make a change to private industry, I’m just saying this might be a good time.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay, I see that. So what did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking of a career in … in sales.”

His eyebrows arched. “Sales? You?”

“Why do you say it like that? You don’t think I could be successful as a saleswoman?”

“Well, no, I—I mean yes, but—” He shook his head as though trying to clear his thoughts. “I guess I just never thought about it.”

“I’d like you to think about it now.” She leaped off the bed and snatched the Varie Cose catalog off the dresser. “I want to sell this.”

His eyebrows rose even farther. “You want to be a makeup saleswoman?”

“Oh, it’s more than just makeup. Varie Cose offers a full range of housewares, cleaning supplies, even clothes. See for yourself.” She thrust the catalog into his unresisting hands. “The lady who conducted the demonstration I went to the other night started with the company just three years ago, and she’s already a regional director. She drives a
Lexus
, Eric!”

He paused in the middle of leafing through the catalog to look up at her. “No kidding?”

Allie sat back down on the corner of the bed, watching him carefully. “There is a small start-up fee, of course. Like there would be in any business.”

His eyes narrowed. “How much?”

“Five hundred dollars.” He gave a low whistle, and she rushed on. “That buys me a complete demonstration kit. I’m sure I could make it back in a couple of weeks. Besides, we’ll save more than that in daycare costs in a month.”

He looked up, piercing her with a direct gaze. “Daycare costs? Does that mean you wouldn’t put Joanie in daycare?”

“No, that’s the best part. Most of my demonstrations would be done at night and on weekends, so I could be at home during the day. Now that you’re working first shift, you could keep her on the evenings when I have to work. I’m sure my mom and sisters would love to watch her if you have to work late or something.”

He was studying her with a look that seemed to go directly inside her brain. “Be honest with me. Have you changed your mind about being a stay-at-home mother? Because if this is just a scheme you’ve cooked up so you don’t have to take Joanie to daycare, we need to talk about that.”

“Of course not.” Allie couldn’t meet his gaze. “Well, maybe I have revised my opinion about working moms a little bit.”

Eric leaned forward, arms on his knees, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “Allie, I’m okay with that. Remember, I was raised by a stay-at-home mom. I would love to be able to provide that kind of atmosphere for our kids.”

Stunned, she stared at him. Was he saying he wanted her to be like his mother? Like that mild-mannered, passive-aggressive woman currently residing in their guest room? Surely not. Not her Eric.

“But … but …” She swallowed, trying desperately to gather her thoughts into something sensible. “We can’t afford to lose my paycheck.”

“It would be tough, and we’d have to tighten our belts, but I think we could swing it.”

Her mouth completely dry, Allie simply stared at him. What had possessed this man she thought she knew so well to suggest such an outrageous idea? Did he really think she could stay home and do … what did stay-at-home moms do with their time, anyway? Make cupcakes? Run the vacuum cleaner?

Cook pot roasts?

Her voice sounded tight in her own ears as she spoke through a constricted throat. “I don’t want to just
swing
it
, Eric. I intend to keep working, paying my half of the bills. I just want to refocus my efforts in another direction, that’s all.”

He studied her a moment, his expression guarded. Then he gave a single, slow nod. “Alright, Allie. If you really want to do this, I’m with you.”

A weight lifted from her chest at his words. “You mean it?” She jumped up and flew across the two steps between them to throw herself into his lap. “You don’t mind the five hundred dollars?”

His arms wrapped around her as she snuggled into his embrace. “Like you say, it’s a start-up cost.”

“Uh, I might need a little more than that. I’ll probably need some new clothes so I look professional.”

“What’s wrong with the closetful of clothes you have now?”

She squirmed, glad her face was pressed against his neck so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. “They don’t fit so well since the baby was born.” The cinnamon roll weighed heavily on her conscience.

“I’m sure we can afford a few new clothes. I’ve been wondering what I could get you for your birthday.”

She stiffened. “Eric! My birthday is tomorrow and you haven’t gotten me anything yet?”

His arms tightened around her. “I’ve been looking for the perfect gift for my beautiful wife.”

“You still think I’m beautiful? Even if I’m fat and my clothes don’t fit anymore?” She pressed her lips against the soft skin behind his ear.

“Are you kidding? You’d have men lining up around you if I wasn’t here to fight them off.”

She pulled away slightly so she could look into his eyes. “I love you, you know that?”

The smile that curled his lips was too good to resist. She covered it with hers.

6

Allie’s eyes flew open. Red numbers on the clock told her the time was 6:15. Why hadn’t the baby cried? She always woke up at five for her early morning feeding.

A terrible fear tried to take root in Allie’s mind as she threw off the comforter and raced from the room. Heavy silence nestled throughout the house. In passing, she noted a line of light beneath the guest room door, meaning Betty was awake. How could she stay in there, while right next door in the nursery her granddaughter might be—

Allie pushed the horrible thought away before it could take hold. She choked back a sob as she burst into the nursery and raced to the crib.

Joanie lay sleeping, her little chest rising and falling beneath a white receiving blanket. Tiny veins lined the fine skin of her eyelids, the blonde lashes fluttering as though in response to the pulse pounding like a drum in Allie’s ears. Joanie was okay. Not dead, not suffocated. She was just sleeping.

Limp with relief, Allie leaned over to rest her cheek against the crib railing as her heartbeat returned to normal. Joanie’s last feeding had been at one thirty, which meant she’d gone almost five hours without eating—a record. Next thing they knew, she’d be sleeping through the night.

Something on the baby’s face caught Allie’s eye. Squinting in the dim glow of the Winnie-the-Pooh nightlight, she tried to make out what looked like a small discoloration to the right of her dainty nose. Allie ran across the room and flipped the light switch, then returned to peer anxiously into her daughter’s face. There. She wasn’t imagining it. A small red mark marred the soft infant skin. In fact, there were a couple on the other side of her nose as well. Allie licked her finger and rubbed one. The splotch didn’t come off and it felt rough, like a welt. Red welts, on her baby’s face!

She snatched Joanie out of the crib and ran toward her bedroom.

“Eric! Eric, wake up.”

Eric mumbled in his sleep.

“I said, wake up!”

She flipped on the lamp beside the bed, and Eric, moaning in protest, pulled the comforter over his head.

Allie jerked it down. “There’s something wrong with the baby. Look at her!”

“Huh?” Squinting, Eric cupped a hand over his eyes to shield them from the bright light. “S’rong ’th ’er?”

Joanie began to wake. She raised little arms above her head and stretched. Allie gripped her tighter.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her.” Tears clogged her throat, making her voice come out in a squeak. “She’s got a terrible rash. Look!”

Eric struggled up on one elbow, peering at the baby through sleep-heavy eyes. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“On her face. Right there, and there.”

He studied the tiny face for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s not a rash. It’s just a few red marks.”

“What do you think a rash is? It’s red marks! This is probably the beginning of something terrible. It’ll probably spread. What if—” She sucked in a breath, horror creeping over her. “Eric, what if it’s measles? Babies this young can die from measles, can’t they?”

“It’s not measles.” He lay back on his pillow. “Measles are practically nonexistent these days. They wiped it out with vaccinations.”

“Then it’s something else. Maybe she has an allergy.” Allie wracked her brain. What had Joanie encountered that was new? “Maybe she’s allergic to something in your mother’s pot roast and I passed it along to her in my milk.”

“First of all, neither of us have al—”

“Or wait! Maybe it’s your mother.”

Eric’s stare became hard. “You think my daughter is allergic to my mother?”

The sound of his voice and the sudden set of his jaw told Allie she was edging up close to a line she didn’t want to cross this morning. “Not your mother, but maybe her perfume or something. After all, she held the baby last night for the first time.”

His lips tightened for a moment before he spoke. “Allie, this is ridiculous. That is not a rash. You’re overreacting.”

Outrage stiffened Allie’s spine. “Overreacting? Our daughter’s life could be threatened, and your advice would be … what? Ignore it?” She took a step backward, clutching Joanie to her chest. “I’m going to call the doctor.”

Eric ran a hand through his already-rumpled hair. “For crying out loud, it’s not even six thirty in the morning. Don’t bother the doctor.”

“I’m not bothering him. It’s his job.”

With a resigned sigh, Eric sat up in bed and reached toward the nightstand to turn off the alarm clock before it buzzed. “Why are you being bullheaded about this? It’s almost as if you want something to be wrong with her.”

She gave him a resentful look. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Of course I don’t want anything to be wrong.”

“Then relax. The baby is fine.”

A touch of doubt crept in as Allie looked down at the tiny face. Joanie whimpered and turned an open mouth toward her, searching for breakfast. The red splotches didn’t look as angry as they had a moment before, but what in the world had caused them to appear? A thought made her breath catch in her throat. What if there were more? Why hadn’t she stripped off Joanie’s clothes immediately and checked her over?

She whirled toward the door. “I’m going to go change and feed her now,” she said over her shoulder.

“Hey, wait a minute.”

She paused in the doorway and looked back. Eric smiled sleepily. “Happy birthday.”

“Hey, Mother, could you come in here a minute?” Eric called from the nursery door.

Seated in the rocking chair with the baby, Allie’s head jerked up as she gave him an angry look. Mother came from the kitchen immediately, drying her hands on a towel. She’d obviously been up for a while, long enough to dress, fix her hair, and cook a stack of pancakes for breakfast. His stomach bulged uncomfortably beneath his belt buckle. He wasn’t used to eating more than a bowl of Wheaties in the morning. If Mother stayed much longer, he was going to have to tell her to stop cooking such big meals.

Of course, if she stayed much longer, he might find himself minus one wife.

Maybe he could force an alliance by emphasizing a common bond—Joanie. He took his mother by the arm. “Could you take a look at these spots on Joanie’s face? Allie’s worried she might have an allergy or something.”

Reluctance flooded Mother’s features, and he practically had to pull her across the room toward the rocker. Allie stopped rocking and visibly clutched the baby closer, a stubborn set to her jaw. He bit back a sigh. What was it with these two? You’d need a chain saw to cut the tension between them.

He gave Allie a stern look. She slowly loosened her grip on the baby enough that they could examine the sleeping face.

Mother peered, and then shook her head. “That’s not an allergic reaction. It looks to me as though she scratched herself.”

“What?” Disconcerted, Allie looked down at Joanie.

Eric smiled. “I’ll bet that’s it.”

Mother reached down to pull one little hand from beneath the blanket. She splayed Joanie’s fingers, and then turned a look of disapproval on Allie. “Look at those nails. When was the last time you trimmed them?”

Allie stiffened, and Eric winced at the accusation in his mother’s voice.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Allie replied defensively. “Maybe two weeks ago.”

Mother sniffed. “She drinks nothing but milk. That makes her nails grow. You need to check them often. She relies on you to keep her safe, you know.”

Eric grimaced. Even to him it sounded like Mother had just accused Allie of being incompetent.

“Mother,” he said in a voice full of warning, “Joanie is perfectly safe. Allie is a terrific mom.”

One of the small, cold smiles he remembered so well took her lips. “I’m sure she is.”