Surprise Dad (9 page)

When Mike’s car pulled up in front of her house at eight that evening, she was lying on the floor beside Brian, gazing at him and thinking hard while he slept in a pile of Mrs. Langston’s comforters topped by a clean sheet. She got up to let Mike in and pointed to Brian.

“You know what I’m doing here, don’t you?” she asked Mike without even saying hello.

“Saving my life,” he guessed.

“No, I’m being the nanny,” Allie said. She sighed. “So let’s give up, stop pretending I’m not. Between now and January, I’ll help you find someone permanent, but for now, I’m it.”

She expertly scooped up Brian and laid him across Mike’s arms, looking up into his astonished face.

“I’ll see you at six tomorrow morning,” she said. “Don’t argue with me. I’m flat-out exhausted.”

She got him onto the stoop and closed the door in his face. And then, unable to help herself, she smiled.

M
IKE WAS
all ready to go and obviously waiting for her when she arrived at his apartment ten minutes early. He looked cheerful enough holding Brian on his left hip, and Brian waved wildly at her and giggled.

“All quiet on the northern front,” Mike murmured.

She took Brian from him, snuggling him and blowing little kisses into his hair. He was clean and sweet-smelling, ready for another fascinating day.

“Did you rest up last night?” he asked her.

“I sat down on my bed to take off my shoes and
fell asleep in my clothes,” she admitted. “I feel great now.”

And she did feel great. The sight of Mike and Brian together would make anyone feel great.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” Mike said.

Allie glanced up to see Mike gazing at her, his expression unfathomable. “Excellent news,” she said.

He smiled at her. “Okay, I’ll get down to the kitchen if you think you’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be okay, won’t we, Brian?” The baby giggled at her.

“Before you go,” she said to Mike, “since I’m officially the nanny now, is there anything you’re especially interested in teaching him? Or anything you’d like me to do for him that I might not think of?”

“Well…” He hesitated. “I’ve been reading The Book, and it says babies should have
activities
. Little League? Piano lessons? I don’t think so. Do you know what it’s talking about?”

She almost laughed. Instead, she said seriously, “I’ve heard some of the moms around here talk about swimming lessons in special indoor pools and baby gymnastics classes, and even some learning programs. I’ll do some asking around to find out where they’re located.”

“Thanks. Okay, then, I’ll go down to the diner—”

“Then there are play dates with other children, and of course we’ll make daily trips out in the stroller now that he’s feeling better.”

She was suddenly aware that Mike really wanted to go to work. That would change, she was sure. In no time at all, he’d prefer being with Brian to being in the kitchen. She smiled up at him from the floor, where she was already showing Brian how to play with a stacking
toy. “Go on,” she said. “I know you can’t wait to hit the kitchen.”

At the top of the stairs, watching him leave, she frowned. He should have kissed Brian goodbye, told him exactly where he was going and when he’d be back. Someday when she felt comfortable about it, she’d mention it to him.

A
FTER LUNCH
, she put Brian down for a nap and began to straighten up the room, which looked as if poltergeists had attacked it. When the phone rang, she picked it up, then saw her mother’s name on the caller-ID screen. Her heart sank. She hadn’t confessed to her about her new job. Now she’d been outed.

“Hi, Mom,” she said cheerfully, crossing her fingers.

“Allie, I called the diner and they said you were upstairs. What are you doing in Mike’s apartment?”

Elaine’s voice was calm and pleasant, but Allie could sense that she was nonplussed. “I’m helping Mike with Brian,” she hedged. “He’s been sick, and he was totally disrupting the cooking and serving, so I offered to stay here with him.”

“You’ve always been good with babies,” Elaine said, but her voice was guarded. “But you’ll have to be there with him all day, won’t you? And well into the night?”

Duh
. “Yes, but he’s what you call an easy baby,” Allie said. “It’s not a problem.”

“Except that, well, if you end up taking care of him every day so Mike won’t have to deal with him in the kitchen, that’s a full-time job.”

Uh-oh
. She had to tell her mother the truth. “I imagine that’s the way it’ll turn out, Mom. I’ll take care of
Brian instead of waiting tables. But during his naptimes I’ll be doing my research, and planning the details of the benefit…”

“When you leave in January won’t that be upsetting to Brian?”

She couldn’t bear to talk about it anymore. Her mother was saying aloud all the worries she’d kept to herself. And the biggest one was Brian would get attached to her—and she was afraid she was already attached to him. Their separation in January could be devastating.

Separating from Mike could be devastating, too.

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” she said easily, controlling a tremor in her voice that would give her away.

She heard the sigh at the other end of the line. “The reason I called,” Elaine said, “was to ask if I could help you get Mrs. Langston’s house cleaned up enough for you to be comfortable there. Priscilla told someone it was filthy when you moved in.”

“You’re so sweet to offer,” Allie said, and she
was
touched by it, “but I won’t let you do that. I’m doing a little at a time, and I won’t have to clean the whole place, just the rooms I’m using. You just take it easy and raise money for the foster-care center, okay?”

“Come for lunch or dinner sometime, honey. You can bring Brian. What about lunch tomorrow?”

“Thanks, Mom.” Allie was surprised. “We’d love to. I’ll walk him over in his stroller. About noon?”

“Sounds fine. I’ll see you then.”

“Mom?” she said hesitantly. “Has anyone in town mentioned how much Brian looks like Mike? I mean, are they, um—”

“Gossiping? Wondering if he is Mike’s child in spite
of what he told them about looking like his friend? Oh, yes.”

“What about you, Mom? Do you think he is?” She held her breath.

“Well, Allie, do the math,” Elaine said rather impatiently. “Brian’s eight months old. Eight plus a nine-month pregnancy equals seventeen months. If the mother lived in the valley,
everybody
would know about it. And when has Mike been out of the valley in the last seventeen months? What do you think he’s doing, selling sperm to keep the restaurant going?”

“Oh, Mom,” Allie said, feeling like laughing and crying at the same time. “Do a little gossiping yourself, and tell the network just what you told me.”

“I already have. I laid down the law to that awful Mildred Witherington, so I’m sure everybody’s gotten the message by now. Dimwits,” she muttered. “They should have realized for themselves how silly the idea was.”

Allie hung up, feeling thoughtful. Her mother was a wonderful person, tolerant, forthright and always ready to defend someone she believed in. “I am one lucky woman,” she said aloud to the empty room.

M
IKE HAD
always been able to seem calm on the outside. Now he was constantly twitching and jumping at loud noises. And at six o’clock that evening, he felt that every nerve end was a violin string twanging inside him.

“So what
is
your problem?” he asked himself. For the first time ever, he wanted his workday to be over, wanted to go upstairs and relax as much as he
could
relax with a baby in the house.

Maybe he could. He’d spent most of the day coaching the new interns, who weren’t half bad, so the food was
cooked. Maury was hard at work, Becky and Colleen were there. He’d give it a try.

“Maury, think you could do without me this evening?”

Maury actually looked pleased. “Sure. You need a break. I’ll call you if anything falls apart.”

“Maury” came a musical voice from the doorway, “where are the…Oh,” she said. “Hi, Mike.”

“Hi, Carrie.” Becky’s daughter had changed in the last few years, too, just as Allie had, and one look at Maury’s face said that he’d noticed the changes. No wonder he’d been perfectly happy to have Mike out of the way tonight. He was thinking about stolen moments, warm glances, the touch of hands as plates were handed back and forth. Ah, young love.

Mike started up the stairs, quickly at first, then one leaden step at a time. Was he any different from Maury? Wasn’t he imagining stolen moments, warm glances, the touch of hands as he and Allie passed Brian back and forth—

He stopped, leaning against the railing, suddenly tired. Tired of being a restaurateur, tired of being a man with feelings he was afraid to express, most of all, he was tired of being a substitute father.

He hadn’t even lasted a week. It wasn’t Brian he wanted to be with this evening. It was Allie.

He had to stop it. The point in spending the evening at home was to give Allie a break. And to bond with Brian. He’d send her home at once.

From behind the door he heard Brian shriek, “Urrr.”

“Urrr to you, too,” Mike said from the doorway.

Allie jumped. She must have caught the twitchiness
from him. He examined the chaos of the room and said, “Are you having a party?” he asked. “Am I invited?”

“Absolutely,” Allie said. “Join us, won’t you, if you can find space.”

Mike felt pretty happy sitting on the floor with Allie and Brian and almost every toy Brian owned. He’d send her home in just a minute. She turned a glowing gaze on him. “Look what he’s learned to do. He knows how to pull his train toward him! Good job,” she congratulated Brian, and gave him a hug.

“Wow,” he said. “Hey, big guy.”

“Urr,” Brian burbled.

Allie laughed. “I think Brian’s going to be an early talker. He’s so smart.”

Mike stood up. “So am I. I decided to take the evening off.”

“Good for you. You can play with Brian while I straighten up.”

“Nope. You, young lady, may go home early. The mess will still be here in the morning.”

His heart wasn’t in it when he said it, and he might have been mistaken, but he thought she looked, well, disappointed.

Except that she recovered so quickly. “I’ll have an evening to work on the house. That’s awfully nice of you. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Absolutely,” he lied. “I have The Book.”

She smiled. “Promise to call me if anything goes wrong?”

“Nothing will go wrong,” he said, doubting it strongly. “Trust me.”

She picked Brian up and snuggled him, gave him kisses that made him giggle, then handed him to Mike. Their hands brushed, just as Mike had been hoping they
would. She looked up into his face. “I do,” she said. “I do trust you.” She held his gaze for a second or two, then said, “See you in the morning, Brian.” She gave him a final kiss and said to Mike, “He hasn’t had dinner yet. And remember you have to share the train.”

Once she was gone, Mike admitted to himself how sorry he’d been to see her leave.

“Okay, Brian, what’s for dinner?” He carried him into the kitchen and examined the jars of baby food. “How about,” he said, showing Brian a jar of puréed chicken, “chicken Marsala, with,” and he hefted another jar, “scalloped potatoes, and, let’s see what we have here, spinach purée.”

Brian babbled at him and reached for the jar of spinach, which gave Mike an idea. “I wonder if you really need to eat this stuff,” he said. “I’m going to consult The Book.”

With the baby book open on the kitchen counter, he got to the section on foods for babies at various points in their development. “Here we are. Eight months—‘At eight months, your baby may have vegetables and fruits you’ve mashed with a fork.’ See,” he said to Brian, “if we had some scalloped potatoes up here I could mash them for you.

“‘The food shouldn’t have any lumps, pieces of skin, strings or seeds.’ Hmm. Guess that rules out green beans. Uh-oh, Brian, we’re doomed. ‘Don’t season your baby’s food with…’ With anything, it sounds like. And it says absolutely no leftovers because they might have bacteria. Guess we’ll just have to make do.”

He thought he might be getting the hang of this fathering thing. Dinner was a big success, and he managed a bath without drowning the baby.

And at the end of it, he was exhausted. He thought it
might be the constant talking that did it. “A rest period, that’s what we need,” he told Brian, and yawned. He put the baby, clean and sweet-smelling, into one of the things with feet that crib-dwellers apparently slept in and lifted him into his playpen so Brian wouldn’t feel that the fun had ended forever. He added several soft toys, a fuzzy ball—what marketing expert had dreamed up that vile orange color?—a stuffed lamb Ian had brought over and a weird-looking thing Allie had told him was an “educational” toy. Brian seemed happy to be talking to the educational toy.

Mike dropped into the brown leather wing chair, leaned back and put his feet up on the ottoman. He’d just rest a minute, one single minute, and then he’d be up and at ’em again.

Maybe two minutes.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was certainly jolted awake by pounding on the front door that was loud enough to be heard two mountain ranges away. Mike’s heart slammed against his breastbone as he leapt up and looked into the playpen.

Brian must have been sleeping, too, because he was sitting up now and on the verge of tears, obviously scared by the noise.

Mike rubbed his face, willing his pulse to return to normal, then picked up Brian and settled his chin on the baby’s silky red hair. “It’s okay,” he assured Brian.

He threw open the door and glared at his brothers. Ian, he could tell, was the culprit, because Daniel was standing back, glaring at Ian, too. “Why don’t you just kick it in the next time?” Mike said. “Brian was asleep. You scared him.”

Ian shrugged. “We got tired of the usual kind of knocking. Dads tend to doze in front of the TV. You have to knock hard to wake ’em up.”

Mike’s hackles rose. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Yes, you were,” Ian said. “I could hear you snoring.”

“Must have been Brian,” Mike muttered. Ian was only
pushing his buttons, and, in fact, he
had
been dozing. Lightly. Not in front of the TV, but close enough.

“Sorry about that,” Daniel said, taking Brian and giving him a smacky kiss on each cheek. No longer afraid, Brian giggled, delighted. “Uncle Ian is a real pain, kid. The sooner you learn it, the better.”

“Very funny.” Ian flopped on the sofa. “So how’s it going?”

Mike frowned. “You turned social worker all of a sudden?”

Daniel shoved Ian over and sat next to him, settling Brian in his lap. “We just wanted to see how you are.”

Suspicion snaked up Mike’s spine. “Why?”

“Because we care about you,” Daniel said. “A lot has happened to you lately.”

“Yeah, and we’re here to make sure you don’t have a breakdown.” Ian shifted his weight and pulled a stuffed rabbit out from under him. He glared at the rabbit, then at Mike. “Man, this would really get to me. Hey,” he protested as Brian lurched for the rabbit and snuggled back onto Daniel’s lap, holding it tightly.

It was the rabbit Allie had chosen at the toy store. It was soft and squishy. And washable, she’d told him. The eyes were embroidered on so there were no loose buttons for Brian to swallow. Allie called it Brian’s Bunny Buddy. On one of his quick visits upstairs today, he’d found her doing the bunny hop with Brian and the rabbit bouncing up and down in her arms.

He realized he’d been obsessing on the rabbit, or on Allie, when Ian said, “You
have
lost it. I knew it.”

Mike pulled his attention away from the rabbit and stared at his brother. He must have had a sentimental expression on his face, because Ian was looking at him as if he’d sprouted wings.

“I haven’t lost it,” he said crossly, even though he wasn’t one-hundred-percent certain about that. When Ian gave him a skeptical look, he added, “Sure, right now I feel like I’m being pulled in a dozen different directions.”

Daniel nodded. “Kids will do that. But they’re worth the sacrifice. They deserve the best you’ve got.”

Mike nodded. Yeah, he knew that. He’d grown up with the other option, the father who didn’t give him anything of himself, much less his best.

He’d do better by Brian, but the pressure on him was immense. It wasn’t as if he’d planned to be a father, wanted to be a father. He’d been forced into being one.

Right now he thought he was doing great. But he kept thinking of Brian as someone else’s child—which he was—a child Mike was babysitting—which he wasn’t—until those people came to pick him up, which would be never.

“I’m trying,” he said to Daniel. “Like you said, it’s not easy.”

“Nothing important ever is.” Ian’s look was hard, resolute. “Can’t screw up this one, Mike.”

“I can’t screw up anything,” Mike retorted. As if he needed more pressure. “But a couple of weeks ago it was just the diner I couldn’t screw up, and now it’s the diner and the franchise opportunity that won’t wait forever and Brian, who needs my full attention.”

“Put Brian at the top of that list,” Daniel said. “You need to spend more time with him.”

“Well, look, here I am,” Mike said. “I took the evening off, sent Allie home, we’ve been playing.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “But I can’t do
it every night. Maybe when Barney comes back I can figure out something.”

“Can’t recapture lost days,” Ian said. “Make time now.”

Make time now
. Talk about easy to say and hard to do.

“Yeah, I know you’re right. But how? I’m already exhausted, Maury goes back to school Monday and has football practice until six or so—”

“When do your interns from the culinary school start?”

“They started today, and they’re pretty good, but I can’t just turn them loose in the kitchen. They’re here to learn, not to take over. I have to be available, like, right on top of them.”

“Think of someplace you could take Brian this weekend. Away from the diner, so your mind will be on him.”

Brian was still clutching the rabbit. Mike wished he had a rabbit to clutch. But Brian didn’t seem to mind at all being handed over from Uncle Daniel, who had a billion brain cells of stored information about children, to Mike, who had a billion brain cells of stored information about food, and six, maybe, about children. In fact, Brian smiled up at Mike and cuddled into his arms as if he’d been doing it forever.

Daniel had asked him a question. Or delivered an order, depending on how you looked at it. “Take Brian someplace? Where?”

“Somewhere interesting,” Daniel said.

“What’s interesting when you’re eight months old?”

“Everything,” Daniel said.

Ian shrugged. “Someplace that interests you. If you’re happy, the kid will be, too.”

Daniel gave him a wondering look. Mike suspected that Daniel was surprised that Ian was even taking an interest.

“That would be the kitchen, Ian,” Mike said, “which isn’t what you’re talking about. But actually, The Book—”

“The Book,” Ian said.

“Yes.” If Ian even tried to make fun of The Book he’d toss him out the window—one of the street-level windows of the diner, of course, which would leave Ian dusty but not maimed. “The Book mentioned activities, and I asked Allie to do some research. She’ll find something.”

He didn’t miss the look Ian and Daniel exchanged, but he could ignore it. Yes, he was responsible for Brian, but he’d hired Allie, who was a responsible person.

Then old memories came back to him, and he thought,
like my parents put me in the care of a responsible person
.

But Allie was different from any nanny
he’d
ever had. He could depend on her. She seemed to know what to do, and what she did always seemed to be okay with Brian.

Something that had been niggling at him suddenly turned into a full-blown worry. Allie was right for Brian, but was Brian right for Allie? How would being Brian’s nanny help her sort out her future, help her prepare for a new career?

It was too late and he was too tired to address the question.

“Okay, you guys, now that you’ve organized my weekend, shove off and let me get this kid to bed.”

When, at long last they were gone, Mike tucked Brian into bed, telling him, “I’m a very responsible babysitter. Have you ever had a wet diaper longer than thirty seconds? Don’t I feed you well, given what I have to work with? Isn’t Allie the best nanny in the world?”

Brian smiled, and his eyelids drooped.

“In the short run,” Mike said sadly, “I’m the kind of guy anybody would be willing to leave a kid with, but, little brother, we’re in it for the long haul.”

A
LLIE WAS PLEASED
with what she’d accomplished even while missing Brian like crazy and wishing she were with him. And Mike.

She’d scoured the bathroom and gotten the kitchen cleaned up enough to stand walking into it, put the clutter of paper and magazines in the living room into a box and vacuumed her favorite chair.

While she worked, she planned a color scheme for the benefit dinner. All white would have been more formal, but the foliage would be sporting its brilliant fall colors at the time of the benefit, and she’d decided to take advantage of it. The rental company offered rust-colored tablecloths she’d combine with napkins in a soft maple-leaf red-orange and an aspen yellow. She’d alternate the colors at each table. Cream plates, cups and saucers. Centerpieces of chrysanthemums in coordinating colors.

She’d been thinking of Mike and his “gourmet meat and potatoes” menu while she made her choices. The colors would complement the food, as if his cooking even needed complementing. She should check it out with Lilah, though.

She glanced at Mrs. Langston’s wall clock, a beautiful
walnut antique. Nine-thirty. She shouldn’t call Lilah at this hour. She’d do it in the—

Her cell phone rang. “Lilah!” she said. “I was just wondering if it was too late to call you.”

“Almost, but not quite,” Lilah said. “Daniel and Ian dropped in on Mike and found him playing daddy tonight, so I thought I’d give you a call and see how you and Brian are getting along.”

“He’s a lot more fun than a stack of dirty plates,” Allie said. “So far, so good. He’s the most darling child I’ve ever known. Happy—well, almost always—curious, smart, cooperative…he’s remarkable.”

“I’m so glad you’re taking care of him,” Lilah said. “It’s a match made in heaven.”

Allie laughed. “Well, I’m certainly enjoying myself. Incidentally—” And she launched into a description of the color scheme she’d just decided to go with.

“Sounds gorgeous,” Lilah said. “Warm, cozy colors for a cold fall night. Go with it.”

“Thanks. Oh, I have a question for you. Do you have any suggestions for things to do with babies?”

“How odd,” Lilah said. “Mike was talking about the same thing.”

“It was Mike’s own idea. He asked me to look for possibilities. I know about the big attractions all over the state, but I’m wondering if he should start with something low-key and close to home.”

“I’ll do some thinking,” Lilah said. “Daniel and Ian are bugging Mike to take Brian somewhere this weekend.”

“I’m sure he’ll think of something wonderful,” Allie said.

“I just hope it’s not a kitchenware store.” Lilah
snickered. “Before I hang up, are you happy in Mrs. Langston’s house?”

“Oh, yes.” Allie sighed. “Bless her heart, she must have kept everything she’s ever owned. Maybe everything three generations of collectors have owned. I’m standing here looking at two china cupboards and one of those lighted display cases chock-full of doodads, from china figurines and cut-glass vases to an ashtray that says, ‘Welcome to the Grand Canyon.’ Plus stuff in the kitchen cupboards and on top of every table—”

“I wonder if Priscilla would like to have a yard sale,” Lilah said thoughtfully, “and donate the proceeds to the center.” She laughed. “I’m not shy, am I?”

“If I organized it, it would be something nice I could do for her,” Allie said slowly.

“If it’s for the center, I’ll rally the troops. The whole family plus the center volunteers will help you and Priscilla price things. We can do it in no time flat.”

“Okay. I’ll ask her,” Allie said.

“I have a better idea. Your mother’s our chief fundraiser, and very, very persuasive.”

“As if I didn’t know,” Allie muttered.

“I’ll ask her to approach Priscilla.”

When the call ended, Allie sank into her chair, noticing proudly that the cloud of dust was much less dense as the result of her vacuuming. She was tired, but also sort of excited about her life. She’d read in bed last night, a book describing types of jobs in the psychology field, their educational requirements and their limitations. While Brian napped tomorrow, she’d read more of it.

Or, instead, would she find herself washing Brian’s clothes, straightening up his toys and making a grocery list of baby foods and supplies? Being the perfect nanny, the way she’d tried to be perfect at any job? She was
getting too deeply into the nanny role. She had to focus on finding the perfect career.

“H
I
, M
OM
. Meet Brian,” Allie said when she and Brian arrived for lunch the next day.

Somehow, Allie wasn’t surprised to see her mother’s eyes soften. “Well, hello,” Elaine said to Brian. “Come right in. I have a present for you.” She practically snatched Brian out of his stroller.

Allie left it in the front hall, dumped her coat on top of it and joined them in the living room. Her mother was on the floor with Brian, who had his plump little arms wrapped around the biggest stuffed bear Allie had ever seen. He rolled over with it, then rolled over again, shrieking with joy.

“I think it’s a hit,” Allie said. “What shall we name it? Bearly There? Bearable?”

When her mother frowned, Allie stooped down to give her a hug. “Hello to you, too,” she said. “Thanks, Mom. He loves that bear, and I love you. Thank you again for doing the math. A detective couldn’t have done better.”

“Mike’s a good man. Somebody needs to look out for him.” Then her gaze whipped away from Allie and right back to Brian. “Papa Bear,” she cooed. “That’s what we’ll call him, won’t we, Brian.” She looked at Allie again, her eyes narrowed. “We’ll keep him right here at Aunt Elaine’s house for you to play with when you visit.”

Her message was clear. Allie had a substitute nanny on call and eager for the work. An hour later, she was finally forced to say, “Um, Mom, I think everyone’s getting hungry.”

“Oh!” Elaine said, leaping up. “I forgot all about lunch.”

Allie smiled. Her mother and Brian seemed to be getting along quite well.

M
IKE WAS
under even more pressure than before. And pressure to do what? Take his kid brother out somewhere next weekend. Just thinking about it exhausted him, packing the diaper bag, putting Brian in the car seat, folding the stroller into the trunk. His left hip, he thought, was permanently skewed in that direction, and Brian would have to get used to other forms of transportation.

“Lilah says you and Brian have a date this weekend,” Allie said when she arrived the next morning.