Close to Her Heart (22 page)

“Huh? Oh, yes, of course I am.” He looked at her with obvious concern. “Are you?”

She brushed a hand over her hair, then when she saw his gaze slip past her, to the mess in her living room, she stepped out to the hall, partially closing the door behind her. “I’m afraid I can’t invite you in. The place is a disaster zone.”

Mr. Bowman glanced down the hall to her left, then cleared his throat. “I heard you’d had your baby. And I don’t want to be a bother. But you’ve been so kind to me, I wanted to do something to help.” He held out his hands, palm side up. “But I can’t cook, as you know, so I couldn’t bring over any food. And then it hit me. Maybe you could use some help with the baby. So you could do things like go out shopping and—” he glanced at her hair, “—maybe go to the hair salon or whatever young ladies like you need to do.”

Dani didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the idea of leaving her baby with sweet, old Mr. Bowman. “I’m not quite at the stage where I could leave the baby with a sitter. But it’s very nice of you to offer.”

“Oh. I didn’t explain. I’m not—” His gaze shifted to the side again. “I mean, I could hardly offer my own services. But I have a widowed friend whose daughter and her family recently moved away. She told me she’d love to go back to work as a nanny to a nice family. And as it happens, she’s at my place right now, so I thought—maybe you would like to meet her?”

Something was wrong here. Why would Mr. Bowman suddenly show up at her door offering the services of a friend who just happened to be looking for babysitting? And he kept looking down the hall—toward Eliot’s door.

“Did Eliot put you up to this?”

“Um. Well.”

She’d thought so. “I’m sure you mean well, Mr. Bowman. But—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Eliot came out into the hall with a woman who looked to be in her late fifties. She had short, salt-and-pepper hair, a pleasant face and a figure that was trim despite the fact that she didn’t seem to have a waistline.

“I’m Mrs. Muddle, dear. It’s so nice to meet you. I hear you’ve had quite the few weeks. I remember what it was like when my first child was born.”

Dani looked beyond her, to Eliot, who was leaning against his door frame, watching with more than a little satisfaction. She hated that he was seeing her this way, her greasy hair, her shirt spotted with breast milk and baby spit, mis-matched socks on her feet because she’d put them on in the dark and hadn’t been bothered to change them later in the day when she’d realized her mistake.

Mrs. Muddle—was that really her name?—pushed open Dani’s door and disappeared inside. Mr. Bowman was already at his own door, and a second later was gone, too.

“That was diabolical. Tricking me with dear, old Mr. Bowman that way.”

“Couldn’t think of another way of getting you to open your door.”

She couldn’t believe the way Eliot was looking at her, with so much warmth and concern. Was he really not disgusted at the sight of her? “I know I look awful. I’ve been afraid to take a shower in case the baby started crying and I couldn’t hear her.”

“You should have called me.”

She glanced away. She knew he would have helped, if she’d asked him to. But she’d thought if she could look after the baby by herself she’d be able to prove that Adrian was wrong, that she hadn’t made a mistake, that she was going to be a good mother, after all.

But she’d failed.

“I hired Mrs. Muddle from an agency. You have her services for two weeks.”

“I—” How could she tell him she didn’t want any help, when it was so obvious she needed it. “How did you find her?”

“Paige contacted one of the top nanny agencies in town and then personally checked her references. She’s top-notch, I promise. Just give her a chance, okay?”

Dani sighed. Again, she couldn’t see how she could say no.

“She’s already been paid to stay until six tonight. If you’re not happy, I’ll tell her not to bother coming back tomorrow.”

“All right. Thank you.”

She stepped back inside but before she could shut the door, Eliot said, “Oh. One more thing.”

Feeling trepidatious, she waited, eyebrows arched expectantly.

“I’ve got someone I want you to meet tonight. You can expect us at seven.”

*

“Mrs. Muddle?” Dani couldn’t see any sign of the nanny Eliot had hired in her living area or the adjoining kitchen. Hearing the sound of the washing machine, she checked the laundry room across the hall from the half bath. The washer was going, but no sign of the nanny.

Dani glanced into her study, then the nursery, and finally found Mrs. Muddle in the master bedroom, pulling the sheets and pillowcases from her bed. In her portable crib by the window, the baby was peacefully sleeping.

“I do light-housekeeping as well as child care duties. I put in the load of whites I found in your hamper. I’ll do these sheets and then the towels. If you want to take a shower, I’ll listen for the wee one. She’s sound asleep; I’m sure you can take your time.”

Overwhelmed at having her life so invaded by a stranger, Dani was speechless for a long moment. But what the heck. Her references had been checked, and Dani had a lot of faith in both Eliot and his assistant.

“You’ll call me if she wakes up?”

“Right away. I promise.”

“Well, a shower sure would feel great.”

After ten glorious minutes under her ceiling mounted rainfall showerhead, during which time she lathered her hair twice and shaved her armpits, Dani turned off the water, then stuck her head out of the shower. Hearing silence, she decided to turn the water back on for another glorious five minutes.

Wrapped in a towel she went to check on the baby, only to find that the nanny had moved the portable crib to the kitchen—“So I can keep my eyes on her while I tidy up a bit.”

Dani eyed her kitchen in amazement. So far Mrs. Muddle’s “tidy up a bit” involved loading and starting the dishwasher, washing down all the counters and scouring the sink.

“Wow. The place looks a lot better all ready.”

“I love a good challenge, dear. Now you go get dressed and dry your hair. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear a peep.”

Dani wasn’t yet into her regular clothes, but she managed to get into the jeans she’d bought with Miriam when she’d first found out she was pregnant. The reminder of a friend who’d once been such a big part of her life made her sad. Miriam still hadn’t responded to the email announcing her baby’s birth. It seemed Miriam was cutting her and Eliot out of her life for good.

After drying her hair, Dani decided it would be good for her morale to put on some mascara and lip gloss. It was a relief to see her old self staring back from the mirror when she was done.

And then, with perfect timing, the baby let out a squawk. A sound Dani was learning to interpret that meant she was waking up and would soon demand to be fed. She hurried to the kitchen only to find that Mrs. Muddle had beaten her to the portable crib.

She assumed Eliot had warned her about the Down Syndrome, but she was still anxious to see how the nanny would react. In the past few weeks, her baby’s face had filled out a little and now Dani could see even more that she had the classic flatter face, as well as the slanted eyes of a Down baby. Would Mrs. Muddle see her as less cute or loveable than a regular baby?

But if she did, she showed no signs of it.

“Come here you little sweet pea.” Mrs. Muddle lifted her gently, then cuddled the baby to her chest. “Nothing like the smell of a newborn baby.” She started a rocking motion, the cleaning of the kitchen suddenly not even the slightest of concerns.

Dani watched, bemused, and a little bereft, that a stranger could provide the comfort she’d assumed only she, the mother, could offer. Then, seeing that her baby was perfectly happy and that Mrs. Muddle seemed to be enjoying her chance to hold the baby, she decided to go to her office and do a quick check of e-mails.

Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Muddle came to the doorway. “I believe sweet pea would like to eat now.”

Dani went to sit in the rocking chair in the nursery to breastfeed her baby. When she was finished, Dani gave her a sponge bath and changed her into a clean sleeper for the night. Miraculously, the bureau had been restocked with clean onesies and sleepers Mrs. Muddle must have already run through the drier and then folded.

By the time she’d settled the baby in her portable crib again, Mrs. Muddle had a cheese and herb omelette, toast and tea waiting for her.

“I hope you don’t mind, dear, but I phoned in a grocery list. You’re shockingly low on provisions. They’ll be delivered tomorrow at nine.”

“You are amazing. Absolutely amazing.” Gone was every last one of Dani’s reservations about hiring a nanny. She hadn’t realized until that minute how starving she felt.

“Just doing my job. And I must say, it’s been very satisfying. What a sweet daughter you have.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Muddle nodded. “It’s a bit past six, so I’ll be leaving now. I’ll be here tomorrow before the groceries arrive. Don’t worry if you have a rough night. You’ll be able to have a nice long nap tomorrow now that you’ve seen I know a thing or two about babies. I did have four of my own.” Mrs. Muddle winked, then briskly went on her way.

*

Until she heard the knock at her door, Dani had forgotten Eliot’s promise to visit—and bring guests—at seven o’clock. Thanks to Mrs. Muddle she felt almost her old self again. But the prospect of visitors made her want to hide her head under the covers again.

But Eliot had sent her Mrs. Muddle. So she owed him.

It was still with some reluctance, however, that she opened the door to him.

God he looked good. So good. Long and lean, elegantly well-dressed. His quirky smile sparked something like joy in her heart and she couldn’t help smiling back at him in return.

“I see Mrs. Muddle agrees with you.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you told me she appeared out of the sky one day, floating down with an umbrella.”

He laughed. “That good, huh?”

“Totally changed my life. In just one day.” She opened the door wider to let him in, and only then noticed a woman and a little boy standing about three feet away from him.

He gestured them forward. “Dani, this is Jess Churchill and her son Cole. I asked them to come and talk to you about their experiences the past six years.”

Dani shook hands with the mother who looked about Mattie’s age, maybe a few years older. She was tall and very slender, with large brown eyes and a broad, engaging smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dani. This is my son Cole. He turned six this year.” She pulled the boy, who’d been hanging back a little, out in front of her. As he gave Dani a shy smile, the purpose of this visit became very clear.

Cole had Down Syndrome, too. Just like her own baby.

Dani invited them in and offered to make tea or coffee, but Jess and Cole only wanted water and Eliot waved off any refreshments at all. They sat on the white leather sectional, which Dani was beginning to realize was a piece of furniture she would soon be looking to sell. White furniture and children were not a good mix.

“Where is your baby?” Jess asked her.

“She just fell asleep in the portable crib in my room. Would you like to see her?”

“Oh, I hate to disturb a sleeping baby.”

“I don’t mind.” Dani was suddenly anxious to have her daughter close to her. The little sweetie didn’t even open her eyes when Dani eased her out of the crib and into her arms. The baby’s warmth felt reassuring against her chest and Dani held her close before taking a breath and re-entering the living room.

“Jess and her husband are clients of mine,” Eliot explained, after he and Jess had both taken a moment to admire the baby. “They came to me after Cole’s birth for some estate planning.”

“We were concerned about what would happen to our children if something happened to us while they were so young. And then having a child with special needs made us worry all the more.”

“How many children do you have?”

“Three. Cole has an older brother and sister.”

“Mom?” Cole interjected with a whisper. “I’m bored. Can I have the mini pad?” When she didn’t react, he added, “Please, Mom?”