Scrambled Babies

by Babe Hayes

  Ring!

  Steve hoped it was the real estate company calling. He had maybe enough time to ask about the house. I’ll have a million in my account any day now from the diaper boys, so the house will be no problem. Steve, my man, welcome to Hollywood!

  He picked up the phone.

  Chapter 7

  “What are you laughing at, Kaselman?” Paeton asked, her blood boiling.

  “You! You look ridiculous in that disguise.” Steve made no effort to withhold his amusement.

  Paeton had donned a Marilyn Monroe wig to cover her auburn hair. She also wore thick horn-rim glasses set low on her nose.

  Steve sported a wide-brimmed cowboy hat over a gray wig and mirrored sunglasses. He had also pasted on a huge handlebar mustache.

  Their identities well hidden, Paeton and Steve were seated with the scrambled babies within viewing distance of each other, talking on cell phones at O’Hare airport. It was two o’clock in Chicago the day after Steve had been ambushed by the reporters. The added factors of sitting apart and using cell phones before exchanging the babies were an extension of Steve’s need for extreme caution.

  These extra complications pushed Paeton to her patience limit. She had simply wanted to meet Steve, grab Kelsey, and kiss her to death.

  But Steve had insisted they be very careful. Since they each had had unexplainable encounters with pencil-mustache, Steve decided they shouldn’t take any chances. Thus, not only disguises, but also sitting twenty-five yards apart talking on cell phones, were Steve’s minimum requirements.

  Paeton shot poison darts into the cell phone while glaring daggers at Steve across the terminal. “I see nothing meriting amusement in this situation. All I want is to have my baby. I would think you’d feel the same way.”

  “I do, I do. I feel the same way. Now look, you can see Kelsey.” Steve held up Kelsey’s tiny hand. “Wave to Mommy, Kelsey. See, she’s waving at you.”

  “I want her to be with me.” She glowered at him for emphasis. “And I want that now!”

  “Okay, okay. Look around.”

  Paeton sat immobile.

  Steve tried again. “Look around, Paeton. Please?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. All right.” She gave the area a cursory observation.

  “No, I mean, look around carefully. I’ll do the same in my zone.” Steve turned to check all “zones.”

  Zones! I’m so tired of looking at life through the eyes of a quarterback. “Okay, I’m checking, I’m checking. See?” Paeton turned to see who was in her “zones.” “No pencil-mustache. No one suspicious that I can see. Now can we please exchange the babies, Kaselman?”

  “Why can’t you call me Steve? It sounds so businesslike when you refer to me as Kaselman. I call you Paeton.”

  “That was not my choice. That was your idea—Kaselman!”

  “Boy, you are tough. Listen, we’re both at fault here. I don’t understand where you get off thinking this whole screw-up was all my doing.”

  “Oh, so you do admit you are at fault?”

  “Of course, it was part my—”

  “That’s it. I’m through with the war games. I’ve gone along with all your nonsense. I don’t even know why I agreed to this insane plan in the first place. This is past stupid. I want my baby, and I’m coming over to get her now.”

  Paeton closed up her cell phone, leaving Steve talking into a dead line. “Come on, Maddy.”

  Paeton got up, swung the travelseat into one hand, took Madison by the other, and marched toward Steve.

  “Okay, but if anything goes wrong—” Steve grinned as he watched her approach.

  She stood looking down at him. “You are the most self-centered male I have ever met. You look stupid too, you know, but do you see me laughing? This was your plan, remember? Give me my baby!”

  Steve held out Kelsey in her travelseat. Paeton handed Ryan to Steve and sat down to take out Kelsey and smother her with kisses. Both babies cooed approval at being returned to their rightful parent.

  “Oh, Kelsey, Kelsey, honey. Are you okay?”

  Steve tossed Paeton an indignant eye. “Of course she’s okay. I stayed with her twenty-four hours a day.” He looked at Ryan. “Hey, my man. How did you like female treatment for a few days? She wasn’t as mean to you as she is to me, was she?” Steve sat Ryan on his knee, giving Paeton a devilish glance. Paeton was too engrossed in cuddling Kelsey to notice his snide remark. “Real men don’t kiss in public, right, buddy? But you know I missed you, don’t you?”

  “My name is Madison.” Madison stood in front of Steve.

  “Hello, little lady. My name is Steve Kaselman. I’m Ryan’s daddy.”

  “I know. My mommy says she doesn’t know what to make of you.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Steve shot Paeton a well-isn’t-that-interesting look.

  Paeton was flustered. “Sit down, Madison. Don’t bother Mr. Kaselman.”

  “It’s Steve, and she’s not bothering me. I like kids.”

  “I’m happy for you.” Paeton put her hand to her wig. “This ridiculous disguise is coming off right now!”

  Steve stopped her hand with his. “Wait, don’t—”

  The touch of his hand on hers! Her heart flip-flopped. Her blood pounded in her ears. Her eyes found his eyes.

  Steve must have been having a similar reaction. His mouth formed faltering words. “We, uh, can, er, trade the babies, but let’s keep the, uh, disguises on until we check the zones one more time. Okay?” He fell into a trancelike state as his words trailed off in a whisper.

  His touch! My god! His eyes again—even through that moronic disguise! Paeton McPhilomy, you must stop this craziness, and you must stop it now! “Okay, but take your hand off my hand, Kaselman, and take it off now!” She had trouble sounding as if she meant it.

  Steve gingerly removed his hand. Were his eyes telling her he was sorry to lose her touch? “Okay, let’s check the zones once more.”

  “I’m hot in this thing. Hurry up!” Paeton was flushed from the neck up.

  Paeton watched Steve swivel to check the areas behind him. Paeton looked around, seeing normal-looking people. Everyone was moving or sitting, except one guy stretched out on the bench directly in front of them with a newspaper covering his face and upper body. Something about his shoes struck a disturbingly familiar chord, but she shrugged it off as triggered by the extreme tension of the situation.

  The surveillance completed, they found themselves face-to-face again. Steve flashed her a one-two-three look and said, “Now!”

  They both pulled off their disguises. Except Steve left the handlebar mustache intact.

  “Aren’t you going to take off that absurd mustache?” Paeton pointed at Steve’s still-adorned upper lip.

  “Not yet. I used superglue or something, and it’s going to hurt when I do.”

  “Oh, poor baby!” Paeton set her jaw. She summoned as nasty a tone as possible. “You know, on the plane I figured I was going to say it was nice to finally meet you, but now I’m not so sure.” Why was she saying this? He had only been silly, not obnoxious. After his touching her, did she need some distance?

  Steve stuck his jaw forward in response. “Well, what a pleasure to meet you too!” he spat back, sarcastically. “Man, you are so spookable! Sorry I grabbed you. I only wanted you to wait a minute, okay? I had a play, a routine in mind. My plan—all right? And for the hundredth time, stop calling me Kaselman. How would you like it if I called you McPhilomy?”

  “I prefer it. Last names keep everything genderless.”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t call you McPhilomy. I don’t treat females the way I do males.”

  “Oh, so you make a distinction. I suppose you treat all females as part of your stable.” Paeton was feeling smug. She was beating this celeb jock hands down and loving it.

  Steve avoided the issue. “Come on, Paeton,” and he stressed her first name, “where’s your sense of humor? I know I looked silly too. You can laugh at me. I don’t
care. For crying out loud, we’re a couple of silly people! We’ve traded kids with each other for a couple of unreal days. So you can be as snotty as you want to me, but I’m still going to say it is good to meet you, Paeton! I’ll admit I do wish it were under more pleasant circumstances.”

  Madison jumped in. “Are you guys fighting?”

  Paeton was chagrined. “No, honey, we’re just having a discussion.” Nevertheless, she was not about to be civil. Let him squirm! She did wonder why she was staying for the banter. Why didn’t she take the children and leave? Be done with this moron! “Thank you for all the niceties, but you’re a jerk jock, and that’s how I feel, and that will never change. Really, I can’t believe you. In front of god and everyone—making a pass at me like that. Then blaming me for taking your child! You are about the nerviest male I have ever met.”

  Paeton could tell she had left him speechless. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He opened it again, hesitated, and then finally spoke. “Okay, okay. Let’s cut the trash-Steve-Kaselman talk. Apparently, you have your mind made up about me.”

  “Good idea. For once we agree.”

  Paeton chanced to view the two babies side by side. She couldn’t stifle the warm feeling rising within her heart. “They really do look like twins, don’t they?”

  “Yes, except the mouth on Kelsey is distinctly different when she smiles.” Steve’s eyes moved to Paeton’s mouth. “I’m sure you’ve noticed she’s got, uh, your mouth.”

  He does have some sensitivity after all. She softened a bit. “And I’m sure you realize Ryan has your eyes. That slight bit of green in the blue.”

  “No, to be honest, I never noticed.”

  “Oh, come on! People, those women in your stable, must have told you that!” She resumed her hard-line approach.

  Steve rolled his eyes in protest. “My stable, right! No, not really. I haven’t talked to anybody about that kind of thing.”

  “I don’t believe you. It’s a female kind of thing to tell men something like that.”

  “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually see a lot of women.”

  Paeton was sincerely shocked. “You don’t go out on Saturday nights? A national hunk,” and Paeton articulated the word “hunk” with particular relish, “and your dance card is empty? Now that’s hard for me to believe.”

  “No, honest. I was rather heavy into Crystal Youngblood. Thought I loved her, actually. But since the breakup, I’ve been pretty celibate.” Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Paeton’s mouth.

  Paeton could feel Steve’s eyes resting on her mouth. She became self-conscious. “I know my disguise made me look funny, but is there something wrong with my mouth?”

  Steve smiled weakly. “Not a thing! I can’t quite think of a—” and his voice became quiet and hoarse, “a thing wrong with it.”

  Steve’s obvious sexual preoccupation with her mouth made Paeton uncomfortable, but she felt herself enjoying the attention, nevertheless. “Well, moving on to things other than my mouth, I have a plane to catch. Now that this nonsense is over, we need to go about our separate lives in our separate worlds.” She rummaged in the carryall for the plane tickets to check the gate for her flight.

  “Right—separate lives, separate worlds.” He mumbled the words, then repeated them more firmly. “I agree, separate lives, separate worlds.”

  “Okay, let’s go, honey.” Paeton headed toward her gate, Kelsey’s travelseat clutched firmly in one hand, Madison in tow in the other, and the carryall bumping her hip.

  After a few steps she felt Steve following her. She stopped and turned around. “I thought we were off to, you know, separate lives?”

  “Well, I’m going to gate ten. Where are you going?”

  “Gate ten.”

  Steve shot her a quizzical look. “But that’s a flight to L.A.”

  “Yes, it is. That’s where I’m going.”

  “Me too.”

  Then they said simultaneously, “But I thought you were going back to New York.”

  There was a short silence, and they both laughed. Madison joined them.

  “But I thought you were going back to New York,” Steve repeated.

  Paeton laughed again. “You just said that. No, I have to get back to L.A. I’m writing a screenplay for my latest novel. I’ll have to stay in L.A. for quite a while. As a matter of fact, I’m also buying a house there. My agent got me a good advance.”

  From the twinkle in Steve’s eye, he apparently was not averse to flying back with Paeton. Did he even seem somewhat giddy? His words tumbled out too fast. “No kidding? I’m very interested in a house there too. I can afford it since my agent got me that great—or not so great, depending on how you look at it—diaper endorsement. I’ll probably take a lot of ribbing from my buddies.”

  “Yeah, jocks don’t wear or sell diapers, I guess.” Paeton couldn’t resist the dig.

  “Man, you sure have a thing about jocks. We’re people too, you know. I want you to know that I took excellent care of little Kelsey here. Why don’t you ask her.”

  Paeton didn’t respond. There was a long silence. Apparently, neither really wanted the meeting to end.

  Finally, Steve spoke. “Both buying houses in Hollywood. That’s interesting. Who knows, we might end up living near each other.” He cocked his head and said tentatively, “Maybe we’ll end up sitting together on the plane back. I mean, we have some different perspectives, but we’re not enemies or anything, right?”

  Admit it. The guy is likable. Besides possessing the eyes of the devil, he is a fun male. But the other two jocks were fun guys too! Am I ever going to learn? Paeton laughed cautiously. “No, for heaven’s sake, we’re not enemies or anything. This whole thing has been insane but intriguing. Now that it’s over, of course. I fell to a new level of hell living through it.” She breathed a deep sigh and her chest rose and fell, taking Steve’s eyes with it.

  “Yeah, m-me too. So if we happen to get seats next to each other, you won’t die or anything?”

  Paeton’s only response was to laugh again.

  “You guys could have more discussions on the plane,” Madison chimed in happily.

  “Oh, right, right.” Paeton responded absently. Why didn’t she go to her gate for the flight? Neighbors? Would this be a good thing?

  Both stood facing each other in the middle of the air terminal, shifting weight from one foot to the other. The silence was becoming heavy. Steve moved his hand toward his face. “Well, let’s lose the mustache.” He yanked on the gray handlebar. “Ouch! Damn that glue!”

  “Sh! The children!” Paeton instinctively put her finger over Steve’s now-exposed mouth. Their eyes met and held. Neither was able to break the lock each had on the other’s eyes! Both quivered.

  Paeton was mesmerized. Those eyes! Why do they find the bottom of my soul? Why does my finger feel so right on his mouth? This is too crazy to be true. Break it off, Paeton. This is romance-novel stuff only. Real life is real life. And love doesn’t happen in an instant in real life. It’s the stress. Stress and sex, pure unadulterated sex! Kevin, god rest his soul, never made me feel like this. Go! While the going is good! Get back to Hollywood. Go to work. Write, Paeton. Write!

  If she really believed what she was telling herself, why then did she keep her finger across Steve’s soft lips much longer than necessary?

  When Paeton could no longer sustain the pretense that her sole purpose was to stop Steve from swearing in front of the children, she allowed her finger to slip slowly from his mouth. “Uh, Fred will be glad to hear everything went fine. I mean, unscrambling the babies and all.” She lowered her eyes.

  Steve came back quickly on hearing “Fred.” “I thought you told me there wasn’t anyone—who knew about us, I mean. Not that I care.”

  Do I detect a hint of jealousy? “Fred is my agent and publicist. I didn’t think he counted. He was the one who congratulated me on not panicking and calling the police about the mix-up.”


  “Oh, I guess I owe him a thank-you too. Of course, I didn’t call the police either. I tried talking to Pony, but she—”

  “Pony? So you do have a female on a string.”

  “Friend. Pony’s only a friend. Used to be an Olympic swimmer. All my friends, and employees for that matter, are athletes or former athletes. She’s in the media biz now like I am.”

  “Penelope ‘Pony’ Aloni? Two gold medals? Swimming? Free-style and four-hundred-meter relay? 1984?”

  Steve’s amazement was obvious. “How do you know that?”

  “Swimmer myself in the old days. Not Olympic by any means. Only the boys were offered formal competition in high school. But I did my best with the other women, competing around the state in what you would call sandlot swimming. I really got into swimming. So when I was in high school, I followed the women swimmers who were lucky enough to get help from the Olympic Committee. She’s about my age and was kind of my idol. Yes, I’ve seen her on TV. Not the boxing announcing, of course, but other stuff. ‘Circus of the Stars.’ Shows like that. By the way, what does she have? About five percent body fat? Some, uh, friend you have there.”

  “Pony? Five percent body fat? How would I know that? Pony is Pony. Yeah, some guys think she’s a knockout, and she, I have to admit, she is beautiful, but, you know.”

  Were Paeton’s hackles up? “No, I don’t know. You have a girlfriend, or you don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend. Pony is a—”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me. I really don’t like it when people don’t say exactly what they mean.” She folded her arms.

  Suddenly, Paeton realized how ridiculous she was being. His social life was absolutely of no interest to her. They mixed up their babies one preposterous moment at an airport. That was their only connection. These other things—Steve’s eyes, his lips, his athletic body—were just sex! Nothing more! She and Steve were sexually attracted to one another. What of it? When she thought about it, she saw a lot—well, a few men she was attracted to. Come on, who was she kidding? Steve Kaselman did things to her that only her heroes did to her heroines. Nothing like Steve had ever happened to her in her real life. And strangely, this was real life. But still, sex is only sex. She was good at writing about it, but could she live it? No! She couldn’t! Let’s get back into the real world, Paeton!