by Julie Cannon
Barrett lowered her voice. “Please sit down. Whatever you need, I’ll get it. You shouldn’t get upset.”
“You should have thought of that before you reamed me out for not calling you,” Kelly shot back.
“Look,” Barrett said. “Can we start over? You threw me for a loop, and you surprised me with the news about the baby. I reacted badly. I apologize.” Barrett actually looked contrite, standing there in her wrinkled khakis.
Kelly bit back a retort. Her hormones had her emotions strapped in a roller-coaster seat lately. They wouldn’t get anywhere bickering back and forth.
“I’m glad to see you.” Actually she was ecstatic, but she was wary of putting her feelings out on the table again.
“It’s good to see you too,” Barrett replied, sounding equally cool. “I missed you, so I arranged to land here in Denver instead of in San Francisco. I wanted to see you.” Barrett’s voice warmed as she spoke.
“I’m glad you did. I missed you too. Please sit down. You’re making me nervous.” Kelly patted the couch beside her, where Barrett had sat when they kissed. Oh my God, when we kissed. She inhaled sharply, her hand instinctively going to her mouth as she remembered the taste and feel of Barrett’s lips. Barrett couldn’t miss her reaction and her eyes were piercing.
“Kelly,” Barrett said, and Kelly knew she was going to talk about what had happened. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to pretend it had never happened and wanted it to happen again. Jesus, this was all she needed now. Baby girl kept insisting on having a birthday, she was running low on funds, and she’d kissed a woman. No, she’d kissed Barrett. Must be the hormones. Please, God, let it be the hormones.
*
Kelly was definitely trying to change the subject. She asked about her trip, Hong Kong, and anything else she could think of except the kiss. The shock-of-her-life-that-blew-the-top-off-her-head kiss. If Kelly didn’t want to talk about it, she’d let it go. Barrett had read that the hormones of women sometimes went completely haywire when they were pregnant. Actually she’d read everything she could get her hands on about pregnancy to better understand what Kelly was going through. Most of it was fascinating, some made her nauseous, and some scared the hell out of her.
Barrett hadn’t seen it on the horizon, not in the slightest. She’d come here because she couldn’t wait another minute to see Kelly. She thought about Kelly constantly, reliving every conversation and minute they’d been together. She worried about Kelly more now that she was further along in her pregnancy and, after the bombshell of mandatory bed rest, rightfully so.
She wanted to kiss Kelly, had dreamt about it. How her lips would feel as they moved under hers. How she would taste. Would she be aggressive or let Barrett take the lead? Would she want more? Would she slap her face? Would she lose her forever? There were a lot of things Barrett didn’t know, but she did know that she would never, ever make a move.
“Wow. BGR is getting big,” she said, sitting back down on the couch and framing Kelly’s stomach with her hands. She didn’t dare touch her.
“BGR?”
“Yeah, BGR. Baby girl Ryan. Unless you’ve picked a name.” The baby must have kicked, because Kelly grimaced and grabbed her stomach. Kelly held up her hand.
“It’s just a kick. I don’t know if that means she likes it or not, and no, I’m still deciding.”
Barrett’s fear dropped a notch. “How’s she doing? What does the doctor say? I mean besides the bed rest.”
“That everything’s looking good.” Kelly moved her hands under her stomach as if she could hold her baby in a few weeks longer.
“Are you scared?” I’m petrified, she thought.
“A little. I’ve never had a baby before,” Kelly said wryly. “I don’t know what to expect. I’ve seen babies born and I know there are good drugs, but still…that big thing coming out of that little thing is a bit daunting.”
Kelly’s comment diffused some of the tension, and Barrett breathed a little easier. “Are you ready? Got lots of little pink onesies and blankets folded in her dresser?”
“Onesies?”
“Yeah. You know the little one-piece things they practically live in for the first few months,” she said, feeling a little awkward even saying the word.
“I know what a onesie is. How do you know about them?”
“How do I know?” Barrett faked indignation. “Need I remind you my undergraduate degree is in information technology and my graduate degree is in electrical engineering and I have an MBA from The Wharton School of Business.”
“Yeah, and you’re the owner of a very successful software-development company, all of which validates my original question.” Kelly was smiling now, relaxed and enjoying the banter.
“I read.”
“You read?”
“Yes.” Kelly looked at her, obviously waiting for her to continue. “Parents, Motherhood, Baby Life.” Barrett named a few other magazines she’d subscribed to. “Not only do I know about onesies, but I know what type of diaper genie got the best rating from new mothers, ointment or cream for diaper rash, how to say no to the constant stream of visitors when the baby comes home, and the pros and cons of breast or bottle feeding.”
“Wow, I’m impressed,” Kelly said, smiling. “And for the record, I’m breast feeding.”
“Good choice.” Barrett gave Kelly a thumbs-up. “An unlimited supply, very cost-effective, no getting up in the middle of the night to warm a bottle, and my favorite, no dishes.” Barrett didn’t move when Kelly touched her arm as she laughed. She didn’t want to lose the sensation, but even more she didn’t want Kelly to feel self-conscious.
“Now about those onesies,” Barrett said, bringing the topic back around. “Are you ready?”
“Almost.”
Kelly’s answer was vague. “How most is almost? Kelly?” she said, when Kelly didn’t immediately answer. “Where’s her room?” She got up and pointed in the direction of the bedrooms.
“Next to mine.”
Barrett knew Kelly was hiding something, and as she turned the corner and entered the baby’s room she knew exactly what it was. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She turned and retraced her steps.
“I thought I had lots of time.” Kelly spoke before she could say anything. “I had a lot of time until this bed-rest thing happened. I was about to shop online when you called. Here, look,” Kelly said, handing her laptop to her.
Barrett touched the keyboard, waking up the page of a familiar baby-supply store. That wasn’t what they called them, but the baby store just didn’t sound right, like the hardware store or the grocery store.
“All right, let’s start with the basics.” Barrett sat down beside her and entered a few keystrokes into the search bar.
An hour and ten minutes later a crib, changing table, matching dresser and toy box, as well as eight-dozen diapers, six receiving blankets, three nursing bras, and a diaper genie were on the way. They would be delivered in the next three to five days, free shipping included.
Barrett was exhausted. Between her sleepless nights, her worry over Kelly, and a severe case of jet lag, she was practically dead on her feet. Kelly offered her guest room, and Barrett accepted without objection. She did insist on making the bed herself and informed Kelly she’d cook breakfast in the morning.
But morning was a long way off as she lay in the bedroom just down the hall from Kelly. She’d helped her lock up and get into her own bed. Barrett wanted to give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her sweet dreams but didn’t dare. Instead, she’d said she’d leave her door open and for Kelly to call if she needed anything during the night.
Now it was her turn to go to sleep, which eluded her like cool water through her fingers. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Kelly moving toward her, her lips open and inviting. Every time she turned over she remembered how Kelly’s hand felt brushing her leg, her arm, caressing her cheek. Every time she exhaled she felt Kelly’s soft breath on her face just before she kissed h
er. It certainly didn’t help the situation that when she groaned, it sounded just like Kelly had when she deepened the kiss.
Barrett was in serious trouble. No way could she mess up Kelly’s life any more than she already had. She owed it to Kelly to keep her hands to herself. She’d do everything she could to keep Kelly from being hurt again, and getting involved with Barrett was definitely not in that category.
Giving up on sleep, Barrett slid out of bed and grabbed her iPad from her briefcase. Maybe a few chapters of the latest Eve Dallas case would settle her enough that she could fall asleep. She left the door cracked and turned on the lamp beside the bed. It wasn’t bright and softened the harsh light of the iPad screen. Forty-two pages later she stumbled into bed and fell asleep.
*
The very fact that Barrett was lying in a bed ten feet down the hall was doing nothing for Kelly’s orders to rest. After the baby had interrupted their kiss, both she and Barrett avoided the topic. She didn’t know about Barrett, but as far as she was concerned it had become something they really couldn’t ignore.
She tried to put it out of her mind as they talked about names, looked at furniture, and selected bibs and blankets, but it was always right there under the surface. Her attraction to Barrett was confusing. She’d had many, many girlfriends in her life, some closer than others but had never even had a glancing desire to kiss them, even as a teenager when they were learning about the complicated matters of life, the drama of going steady and sex. Some of her friends had experimented with other girls, though Kelly never did. The only thing she’d done was kiss Cindy Baker and a few other girls while playing spin the bottle at a birthday slumber party when she was fourteen, but she certainly hadn’t been attracted to her.
She’d had butterflies just out of curiosity when one of the girls had suggested the traditional boy-girl game, but it was more about walking on the edge than actual curiosity about kissing a girl. When the bottle had stopped spinning and pointed at her, she and her partner had gone into the hall, like the four girls before them. She was more uncomfortable than nervous or excited, and it took several minutes before they decided whose head was going in which direction before they did it. It wasn’t unpleasant, but she didn’t feel any of the bells and whistles and butterflies and giddiness she had when she’d kissed Jeff Stevens the week before. A couple more turns in the hall and Kelly knew for certain girls were not her thing.
So why was she feeling like this toward Barrett? Why had she kissed her? Why did she still want to kiss her? She’d have to talk to Dr. Hinton about this and thought about what the good doctor would say. For certain it would be, “And what do you think this means, Kelly?” She would stammer and stumble over some words and ultimately come up with a few that wouldn’t even begin to describe her confusion over what she was experiencing.
Did she feel like this toward Barrett because of what they’d been through together? Yes, that was a bond that could never be broken, but was she mistaking gratitude toward Barrett for getting her out of that hellhole and saving her and her baby’s life with something more? Gratitude and need could often be confused with desire. Was that what was happening here?
Could someone all of a sudden turn gay? She laughed at her own phrase—turn gay. How ridiculous did that sound? People didn’t turn gay. They either were or they weren’t. But was it that simple? Were you born gay, or did you fall in love with someone, and if they happened to be the same sex, then you became gay? She hadn’t thought about that. But she was certainly thinking about it now when she should be resting.
The baby moved and Kelly realized it might be pointless to even try to go to sleep because her daughter obviously had other plans. Barrett had asked if she’d settled on a name yet. She needed to. Dr. Reed had scared her into realizing that this baby could come any day, whether she was ready or not. She had a name in mind and was trying it out, but she wasn’t to the point of selecting it. She wanted to get Barrett’s opinion, and she smiled when she thought about all the pieces of paper she’d thrown away with various names on them in the shape of a business card. That had been Barrett’s suggestion. At first she’d thought it was silly, but the more she went through the names, the more she changed her mind.
Barrett’s viewpoint and what she might think of something was in the forefront of her mind more every day. In the beginning it had bothered her. She’d been single for so long and had made her own decisions very early on, rarely second-guessing herself. Now she was almost the complete opposite. She wondered if Barrett would think these colors went together, or if she should paint the baby’s room pink or a neutral color, or if she should hire a nanny.
At first she considered it a sign of weakness that she was afraid to make a decision. When she was first kidnapped, if she did anything without asking or being told, she was severely punished. Because the mind is a wonderful thing and a complicated thing, it didn’t take her long to change her pattern of behavior in order to survive. When she was rescued and came home, she had to unlearn that behavior. But she had, or at least she thought she had until she started considering Barrett’s opinion more and more often. Now she was comfortable that she simply wanted to know what Barrett thought. She didn’t base her decisions on what Barrett said, but she did consider it. This evening was an excellent example.
When they were scrolling through the various options for cribs, high chairs, and car seats, she listened to Barrett’s opinion and recommendation on style or color. At times they made sense, but at other times she had her own opinion and chose what she wanted.
Now she wanted to know what Barrett thought of their kiss, or more precisely when she kissed her. She knew it wasn’t until the last split second before Barrett had realized she was going to kiss her, and it’d taken her several seconds before she kissed her back.
But what did Barrett think about it? Was she lying in her bed, wide-awake, trying to figure out what had happened and what to do next? Kelly had no freaking clue.
Chapter Twenty-two
Two days later, Barrett opened the door to the UPS girl and signed for eight boxes. The next day and the day after that, the woman in brown returned. On the fourth day the woman had written her name and a phone number on a yellow Post-it Note in the center of the signature box. In her previous life Barrett would have invited her to stop by after work. Today Kelly and her baby were her sole focus. She signed the pad, her bold signature skirting around the note. Barrett saw the look of disappointment in the woman’s eyes, but the next day when she delivered the box containing the stroller she was nothing but business.
After Kelly’s bombshell about bed rest, Barrett refused to leave and had set up shop in Kelly’s spare bedroom. Global Digital was a virtual company, so holding meetings via Skype or conference calls was nothing new. Lori had fussed at her continually, and Debra started and ended almost every conversation with a not-so-subtle shake of her head and an accompanying tsk, tsk.
The furniture was due to arrive in two days, and Barrett was putting the finishing touches on the trim in the baby’s room. Kelly was in the recliner in the living room supervising her painting via the baby-cam Barrett had purchased the day before.
Barrett had come home from the paint store with squares the size of her palm in various colors, as well as two books with wallpaper samples. Over dinner Kelly had agreed on the color for the walls, a border to encircle the room at eye level, and trim for the window frame. She set to work the next day, forbidding Kelly to set foot in the room, afraid the paint fumes would harm the baby.
“I could get used to having you around.” Kelly’s amused voice came over the speaker, which made Barrett smile. She was already used to being around.
“You just like that I cook for you,” she said, dipping the narrow brush into the paint can. Kelly’s laugh was full, and warmth filled her. They’d both avoided talking about the kiss they’d shared the evening she’d arrived. The first day was awkward, but they quickly fell back into the comfort level they’d shared before. At
least that’s what Barrett kept telling herself.
“Your idea of cooking is picking up the phone.”
“So? There are all different kinds of cooking. Creole, Cajun, Mexican, barbeque—”
“And takeout,” Kelly said.
“Yes, and takeout. And your point is?” She wiped her hands on an old T-shirt Kelly had transformed into a paint rag.
“My point is to keep you humble.”
“Humble? Why would I want to be humble?”
“Because you look so cute with paint on your cheek.”
Barrett hesitated mid-stroke after hearing Kelly’s comment. Cute? Did she really think she was cute? Couldn’t be. She had to be teasing. Neither one of them had approached the topic of their kiss eight days ago, both seeming to silently agree that if they didn’t talk about it, it hadn’t really happened.
At night when it was dark and quiet, Barrett relived every second of it. But she never did anything else. She didn’t want Kelly to feel uncomfortable or embarrassed so she left it alone. That surprised her because she always faced things head-on, especially if they were difficult. But this was different. This was Kelly, and the last thing Kelly needed at this point was another uncomfortable, awkward situation.
“What’s the matter, Rembrandt? Cat got your tongue?” Kelly said, bringing Barrett’s thoughts back to the present.
She couldn’t have been standing there more than a moment or two, dripping paint on the drop cloth like a goofball. Her back to the camera, she blinked a few times and quietly cleared her throat.
“Don’t you have something to do, like fold receiving blankets or match baby socks?” Her paintbrush shook a little as she dipped the brush back in the can. She heard Kelly chuckle and then the sound of the evening news come through the speaker.
Barrett stepped back and inspected her progress on the windowsill. She’d have to re-do it because she’d done such a crappy job after Kelly had made her comment. It was getting late and she was losing the light so she decided to clean up and finish the job tomorrow. It was going to be another long night.