by Rachel Lee
“I’m so glad I met you,” she told him honestly. “I’d have been so lost without you, and you’re so...so stalwart. A lot of guys would have headed for the hills.”
“Stalwart, huh?” he said with a devilish smile. “I’m liking that. Also, just so you know, I’m not one to run for the hills. Mam tried to raise me with some sense, but I get all stubborn-like sometimes. Just so ya know,” he repeated. Then his grin faded a bit. “I’m not unique, Diane. I learned that a long time ago.”
“Who would have told you that?” It was a question that didn’t expect an answer. Of course no one would have said such a thing to him. But to her dismay, he did answer.
“Apart from getting knocked upside the head for being so full of myself, you mean?” His smile faded even more. “No joke. Her name was Ailis.”
“Ailish?” She tried to repeat it but wasn’t sure she said it correctly.
“Call her Alice. My first big nosedive into a heap called love.”
She felt her heart squeeze for him. That amused her briefly, but her thoughts darted right back to Daphne. This shouldn’t take long, she assured herself. The doctor had made it sound like a quick nip and tuck. Trying to distract herself, she said absently, “Sometimes you don’t sound like you come from Ireland. Is that on purpose?”
“Some of it. I need to be understood, and a good, thick Galway accent might get in the way. But most of us grew up speaking English, Diane. Even if not the queen’s own English.”
“No Gaelic?”
“Irish Gaelic is something we have to make a special effort to learn. Some is being taught in school now, but what’s the point in a country where everyone speaks English?”
She nodded, taking it in. “It seems a shame.”
“Seven hundred years of a shame,” he replied.
Mary appeared in the door of the small waiting room. “We’re taking Daphne to surgery now,” she said. “I’ll come get you as soon as she’s in recovery.”
Diane leaped to her feet. “How long?”
Mary smiled. “I can’t say exactly. This shouldn’t be time-consuming. Why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get a light meal? You’ll hardly have time to eat it.”
“That sounded reassuring,” Diane remarked as she watched Mary disappear. She reached out blindly and found Blaine’s hand. “They keep calling me Mom.”
“Well, you are the gal’s mom. It hardly needs the adjective foster, if you ask me.” He turned toward her. “From what you said, you may be the only mother the child ever has. Now let’s go check out the cafeteria. You need something in your stomach, and I know I do. Hell, I even left the coffees in the car. I wasn’t worrying much, was I?”
“But you seemed so calm,” she objected as they strode toward the cafeteria.
“Rule,” he said. “Only one person allowed to panic at a time.”
“I like that rule,” she agreed, her heart lightening a bit. Daphne was heading into surgery. The doctor had said it was minor. In theory she should get her baby back with nothing but a small scar and a couple of stitches, and then Daphne would never have this pain again. That was a good thing, however rough these hours had been, including the ones looming ahead of her.
The cafeteria wasn’t terribly busy. A few people, looking as if they had someone in the hospital, sat at some of the small tables. A few people in scrubs occupied others. It wasn’t a large cafeteria, but the selection was good. Evidently they had passed breakfast at some point and were now on to lunch. Sandwiches dominated the offerings.
Diane selected a ham and swiss on rye with a small salad. Blaine chose roast beef on a hard roll—two of them, actually. Apparently he had a large appetite. They had no trouble finding a table to themselves, and Blaine left her for a few minutes to return with coffee.
“The tea was out of an urn. I can’t vouch for it,” he said as he put a paper cup in front of her. “Of course, I can’t vouch for the coffee, either.”
“All I’m going to say is thank you.” She closed her eyes for a few minutes, head tilted forward, as she tried to release the tension in her neck. God, it was going to take more than a hot bath to wash away this tightness. Time had truly developed leaden feet, and the first thing she did when she opened her eyes was seek a clock.
Time seemed to be as much a secret in a hospital cafeteria as the average department store. She thought about pulling out her cell phone, then decided against it. She had no idea how long this would take, so why count minutes?
“Eat,” Blaine prodded kindly. “You won’t be much help to the daffodil if you need a bed beside her.”
Obediently she picked up her sandwich. Blaine was already halfway through his first. “Why do you call her daffodil?”
“It’s better than Daffy?”
She’d forgotten she’d asked that question before, but against all reason, that dragged a laugh out of her. “I guess so.” At last she bit into her sandwich, enjoying the crunch of fresh lettuce and the beautifully melding flavors of ham and cheese. Dang, she hadn’t even realized how hungry she was, but as her mouth tasted sustenance, her stomach grumbled to remind her she hadn’t eaten since dinner last night.
Then she remembered something. “Who was Alice?”
He stopped with his second sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Now why would you be wanting to know about her?”
She flushed faintly. “Curiosity, I guess. You mentioned her.”
“I did.” He took another bite of sandwich.
“I gather she made you feel bad.”
“I believe I explained it was my dive into the questionable nightmare called love.”
She couldn’t help it. A little giggle escaped her. “A flattering description of romance.”
“Did I say it was a romance? Blessed Mary, it was no such thing. It didn’t get that far.”
“Oh.” She chewed and thought. “Then what was it?”
He sighed, took a long draft of his coffee or tea and put down the second half of his sandwich. “I’m not in the way of discussing such things.”
“You struck out, then.”
“Ack.” He regarded her, his blue eyes intense but a hint of amusement around his mouth nonetheless. “Ailis can only be explained by my callow youth. And only my callow youth could have caused me to be such a nuisance. She hardly saw me, and when she did she slapped me back into my place. ‘Blaine Harrigan,’ she said, ‘I’ve got better things to do with me time than be annoyed by the likes of you.’ Quite clear, I thought, but I’d been enough of a fool that my friends had a great time teasing me.”
He spoke lightly about it, but she wasn’t sure she could accept that. After all, he’d mentioned in the first place, bringing it up when denying he was in any way unique. This Ailis or Alice must have cut him hard.
“She could have been kinder.”
He shook his head, and now the smile was unmistakable. “I told you I’m stubborn. I should have taken the hints.”
But the few minutes of calm and normalcy began to desert her. She needed to get back to the other side of the hospital; she needed to know what was happening with Daphne. Some word. Any word.
Blaine evidently sensed it when she dropped her sandwich and stirred.
“Let’s go,” he said, rising. “Shall I bring that coffee for you?”
“Please.”
Damn, she was yo-yoing, something she wasn’t at all used to. She’d lived a reasonably calm life, focused around her job and a few friends to have a good time with on weekends. The only person who’d ever brought her close to this kind of up-and-downing was Max, and he didn’t hold a candle to Daphne.
Right alongside her worry for the girl, an amazement was beginning to grow. One week and she’d given her heart to Daphne, apparently. Man, she’d thought it would take longer than that.
But maybe there was something special about infants. Maybe
they just naturally brought out maternal instincts. Although, she thought wryly, until recently she hadn’t thought she had any.
Evidently, she did now.
Chapter Six
An eternity seemed to have passed before Mary came to find them. “She’s out of surgery,” the nurse told them cheerfully. “We’ll give her some time to wake up and then you can see her, all right?”
Blaine looked at Diane and thought the woman looked like she’d been through the wringer. She’d hung on to her emotions really well, but the worry and stress had just about used up her reserves.
Hardly surprising. His own mother had looked like a scarecrow by the time Liam had wakened from his concussion. Nothing like the investment of a mother, he thought.
About five minutes later, they received what probably qualified as one of the most important visits of the day. A doctor walked in, not the one they’d seen in the emergency room, and sat in a chair facing them.
“Daphne’s parents, right?”
Blaine didn’t answer but Diane merely nodded.
“I’m Dr. Howe. I performed the surgery on your daughter. It was uncomplicated and she’s just fine. The nurse is going to give you some treatment orders you’ll need to follow for a week, but she’s young and healthy and Daphne will be perfectly well in no time at all. We gave her some antibiotics through the IV to prevent any possible infection, but you’re going to have to stay up with it at home.” He looked to each of them, awaiting a nod.
Only then did he smile. “For what it’s worth, I wish it were this easy to fix everything. Your little girl won’t have any problems, and maybe best of all, she won’t remember this.”
“But I will,” Diane murmured, barely aware she spoke aloud.
“Yes, you will,” the doctor answered. “Dad? I think Mom needs a little nap when she gets home, don’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
“We’ll be releasing Daphne shortly. She’s waking, and she didn’t need much anesthesia at all. She’ll be kicking and cooing by the time you get her.”
What a lovely picture he painted, Diane thought. Then without warning, Blaine wrapped her in his arms and held her close, her head on his shoulder. “You can relax now,” he said quietly. “I’ve even been told I’m a grand babysitter.”
Somehow she didn’t doubt that at all.
* * *
Blaine took over because it seemed right to him. Diane had been through a wringer, however good the outcome. He hadn’t, simply because he hadn’t made the same kind of emotional investment in the baby yet. Plus, he hadn’t been wakened to screeching that had to have been terrifying to someone who’d never heard it before.
Diane dozed on his shoulder and he held her comfortably, hoping it would both rejuvenate her and make the time pass more rapidly. Whatever these medical people meant by “shortly” took quite a bit longer than that. The clock on the waiting room wall seemed to be keeping good time, and it told him that this had probably lasted as long as it had felt. Midafternoon was creeping up on them and the baby still hadn’t been released.
But at last it happened and they were taking her home. The nurse, Mary, had advised them that Daphne might not be hungry or thirsty for a while. The IV would have met her needs for liquid and sugar, plus she’d probably be tired enough after all this to just want to sleep.
Blaine eyed the small white bandage on her forehead where the needle had evidently been inserted and murmured, “Poor girl,” as he placed her in the playpen, the easiest place for her to move about if she wanted. Plus, Diane could keep an eye on her from the comfort of her recliner.
Diane looked pooped enough to need that nap that had been suggested, but she seemed fixated on Daphne, as if she were afraid the girl might stop breathing. Not knowing what else to do, Blaine brought her one of the sticky buns he’d bought hours ago and handed her the small plate.
“I just had a sandwich,” she reminded him.
“Half of one, as I recall, and not as recently as you think. It’s been a busy long day. Calories, woman. Calories.”
“What time is it, anyway?”
“The afternoon is mostly gone.”
Diane stiffened. “It seemed like a long time, but that long?”
“Daffodil here was getting the best care,” he reminded her. “They didn’t want you popping out the door with her only to come running back in because she was bleeding or something. The recovery room probably took longer than either of us noticed.”
All of a sudden he wished he could look another direction. She’d slept with his arm around her for longer than she knew, and the experience had provoked him with simmering heat. It had also distracted him from noting just how long they’d waited. He wished he could drag his gaze away from her for fear of what it might reveal. If eyes could speak, his were probably shouting. Wrong time. Maybe never. Get a grip, Blaine.
* * *
She looked at him, into his deep blue eyes, trying to pull her scattered and scattering thoughts together. “How...”
“Well, you may not remember, but you dozed on my shoulder for a long while.” He made it sound light, simple. Not as sexual as she’d found it, despite all that was going on. In fact, some of her reactions to being held by him had felt crass to her. Maybe just a form of denial?
She lifted a hand to her mouth. “Oh, Blaine, I’m so sorry.”
He waved away her apology. “No need. I’m not complaining. I was glad to see you get a little sleep, though I doubt it was restful. You still look like you could use more of it, too, so nap if you like.”
She shook her head, suddenly feeling very, very sad. “I’m taking over your life. I never meant to do that.”
“I haven’t resisted, either, and I’m perfectly capable of saying no. I seem to remember inserting myself last night and this morning. Besides, what’s a little help with a sick baby and some furniture assembly? Any neighbor would help with either. Now relax.”
“How can I when I feel guilty?”
“Guilty?” He dropped to the floor, sitting cross-legged.
“I need to get you a decent chair,” she remarked, but she’d averted her gaze.
“Forget the chair. I’ve sat on harder ground and with six kids we often didn’t have enough chairs. So what’s making you feel guilty?”
“Everything,” she said extravagantly, waving her hand. The strange sadness that had crept up on her was probably making her as stupid as the fatigue she was feeling.
“That’s a whole lot,” he said when she didn’t continue.
“Well, look at me. I came out here to take a new job, just figuring that somehow everything was going to fall into place. I know damn all about caring for an infant, I still haven’t found a good day care for her, partly because I’ve been too busy to really look, so that’s hanging out at the courthouse. Then she gets sick and I don’t even know what to do about it. I’m a big failure, and I can’t imagine what I would have done if you hadn’t showed up this morning.”
“Ah.” He leaned back, bracing himself on his hands. “Let me reiterate. You quite naturally accepted a job you wanted, right?”
“I shouldn’t have.”
“I think you’re getting the sequence a bit out of step here. You accepted the job.”
She nodded, getting the feeling that he was about to make her feel even more inadequate, and after today, she was quite certain she deserved it.
“Anybody would have accepted a job they wanted. What else got me all the way out here so far from me home that I can’t even talk right?”
Damn, he was going to make her laugh. She didn’t want to laugh. She’d made a whole bunch of screwups in just a week. She kept her eyes closed for fear that if she looked at Blaine right now she’d probably jump into his arms for comfort. Comfort from what? Everything had turned out all right with Daphne, hadn’t it?
�
�I see the corner of your mouth twitching. It’s not sacrilege to laugh. As events happened, you must have quit your old job when you accepted the new, unless you’re more of a scamp that I would believe. Like anyone else, you were getting ready to come out here for this one when, all unexpectedly, your cousin’s baby needed you. Instead of simply saying no and leaving the child to be a ward of the state, you took on an unexpected responsibility.”
She couldn’t exactly argue that, although it wasn’t looking so very smart right now. She wasn’t even a good caretaker for Daphne. That much had become abundantly clear this morning.
“Now you have your hands full while starting a new job in a way you were utterly unprepared for. I think I told you, most people have nine months to get ready. How many days did you have?”
She sighed, clenching her hands, and admitting it. “Only a week, because I was leaving, and then she was in my care for only a couple of days before I got here—which made it even more stupid.”
“Not stupid. You needed to keep this job, now more than ever because you had an extra person to care for. Thus, here you are. Since I see a living, breathing baby in the playpen over there, just what exactly did you mess up?”
She bit her lip, fighting back that inexplicable sorrow that kept trying to wash over her. At last she looked at Blaine. “I don’t have day care, for one thing. The board isn’t going to tolerate this forever. And I didn’t know what I should do this morning! If you hadn’t come over...”
“If I hadn’t barged my way in, you’d eventually have reached the same conclusion—Daphne needed a doctor, and the only place to get one on Saturday morning is an emergency room.”
“You can’t be sure...”
“I can be quite sure,” he said firmly, “that you’re not the unkind, uncaring sort of person who would have let that child cry for much longer.”
She sat up straighter, looking at her daughter. Her daughter. The realization settled in her heart for the second time that day. She was now Daphne’s mother. For real. And she knew next to nothing about what this child needed.
“I’m scared,” she said quietly.