Scrambled Babies

by Babe Hayes

  “Is Mommy all right?” Madison was on the verge of tears.

  Paeton laughed blankly again. “He’s got you fooled too. But for you, it doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, honey. Mommy’s going to be fine.” Rosa released Paeton’s hand. “Here, Maddy. You stay with me.”

  Greta picked up both travelseats and urged Paeton down the hallway to the stage. Paeton could hear the waiting studio audience laughing, applauding, and “ah-ing.” She stopped short. What was she feeling? Fear? Betrayal? Emptiness?

  As she approached the entrance to the stage, she heard the studio audience laugh raucously again. Then she felt something instinctive responding. Audience? She was a writer. The world of reading people was her audience. She had no fear of audiences. She was in charge of audiences. She directed her readers. Readers didn’t direct her. So what if this was a live audience? She could still lead them where she wanted them to go. Yes, Paeton McPhilomy, best-selling author, would take charge of her audience!

  She stood up straighter. She took both travelseats from Greta. And she didn’t need Steve Kaselman to be there either. A jock was a jock was a jock. And no damn jock was going to make her look foolish ever again! She realized no male could let her down unless she allowed him to. I am still in charge of my own destiny. I will choose correctly. I will win the National Single Mom of the Year competition. I will write screenplays. I will write novels. I will never let myself down again! She tightened her grip on the travelseats until her fingers ached. I will learn to live without Mr. Steve Kaselman!

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Paeton McPhilomy and Steve Kaselman and their two adorable yet almost identical babies!” From halfway up an aisle, Royale orchestrated their grand entrance.

  Huge applause.

  Paeton composed herself as she strode down the stairs to the stage floor. She found firmness and strength as she spoke. “Not quite, Royale. Mr. Kaselman called a minute ago to say he won’t be here!”

  Paeton could see the startled look on Royale’s face as she reached the stage carrying both children in their travelseats with her.

  “Well, audience, if Steve Kaselman won’t be here, I guess Paeton McPhilomy will face this challenge alone.”

  The words sliced like a knife, but Paeton clung tenaciously to her control.

  “Booooo!”

  Royale raised her hand for silence. “Hold on for a minute, audience. What you all came for will still take place. Mr. Steedly Black,” a mixture of boos and yeas from the audience, “is waiting offstage and, in a few minutes, will complete his challenge to Paeton McPhilomy by attempting to identify the gender of the baby we choose.” She turned to Paeton with a practiced smile. “Paeton, will you put one child on that table where Wanda our assistant is standing, and the remaining child on the other. Then be seated for a minute, please.”

  Paeton had no idea what was going to happen next. She did keep glancing backstage where Steve would come from if—Forget him, Paeton! He’s strike three, and you’re out of men!

  But for all her bravado, Steve’s words screeched in her head like fingernails on a blackboard—“I won’t be there!”

  Royale moved the show forward. “Many of you continue to view Paeton McPhilomy as a self-centered mother who can’t even recognize her own child. Lately, I have gotten to know the inside of this successful writer. This woman is a loving and caring mom. I have to tell you, ladies and gentlemen, she gets my vote for National Single Mom of the Year.” She lowered the mike and winked to the camera. “That is, if she selects correctly today.”

  The audience applauded.

  “But that’s not all. We have two other surprise guests. Please give a Royale welcome to April Bicklin, president of SMACK, Single Moms Against Cruelty to Kids.”

  Oh, no! She must be one of Royale’s “fun secrets!” What is she doing here? Paeton watched apprehensively as a tough-looking woman in her twenties, about five feet tall, came from backstage. She was wearing no makeup, a buzz cut, cutoffs, sneakers, and a T-shirt that proclaimed “Kids are animals too!” She also had two-inch fingernails, each streaked a glossy black, and multiple rings piercing many exposed parts of her body. She sported a tattoo of a child on one thigh and that of a puppy on the other.

  “Hi, April. Welcome to Royale.”

  “Hi, Royale. I’m happy to be here.”

  “I have to ask you about your T-shirt. I’m sure many members of our audience are curious too. Children are animals too?”

  “I think it’s pretty obvious, Royale. My first children, so to speak, were my dogs. I was never cruel to my dogs. When I had a kid, well, I figured I’d treat it like I did my dogs—heck, children are animals too.”

  Applause.

  “Wonderful, April. Wonderful. Do you know our other guest, Paeton McPhilomy?”

  “Not personally, Royale. But I’d love to meet her. I’ve heard this story about her not knowing her own flesh and blood. Personally, if it’s true, I think it’s a disgrace.”

  “Thank you, April. Would you take a seat next to Paeton?”

  She makes a rude remark like that, and I have to sit next to her? Paeton slid as far from the SMACK leader as possible.

  Royale turned to the stage again. “And our next surprise guest is last year’s winner of the National Single Mom of the Year competition, Esther Kavaleski, utility-pole technician for Kansas Power and Light.”

  Applause.

  Great! Even the guests are part of the wolf pack! Paeton watched Esther clump heavily down the stairs onto the stage, pumping her right arm, her fist clenched. She was in her mid-thirties, six feet, cigarette-shaped, and wearing ankle-high boots, thick purple lipstick, an oversized T-shirt, an open fisherman’s vest, and tight, tattered jeans. Her child was strapped to her front as he had been during her TV interview on “This Could Hurt.” Her vest had at least fifteen pockets stuffed with everything a baby might need.

  “Hi, Royale! I’m, like, sure glad to meetcha, ya know.”

  “Well, thank you, Esther. I’ve been looking forward to our meeting as well. You’ve spoken some pretty harsh words about our guest, Paeton McPhilomy, up there. Would you take a seat on the other side of Paeton, please?”

  Now I’m surrounded!

  Steve still had not shown, and the show was at least five minutes into air-time. Paeton scolded herself. Why did she keeping hoping? He said himself he wouldn’t be here. Why did she keep hoping for the impossible?

  “Our final guest today is Mr. Steedly Black.”

  Once again a mixture of boos and yeas.

  Black walked calmly down the stairs to the stage. He wore the same outfit Paeton had seen him in on the plane that day. He winked at her as he strutted over to Royale. Paeton thought she was going to throw up.

  “Hi, Steedly. Are you ready to carry out the challenge you laid down for Paeton and Steve?”

  “I’ve been ready for days, Royale. I am so disgusted with these so-called parents,” he sneered. “Interesting how one of them couldn’t make it, don’t you think?”

  “Please take a seat next to April, Steedly.”

  Black’s arrogant and nasty presence gave Paeton a boost. This creep deserved to be squashed like a pesky bug. And she couldn’t wait to do it. He sat down.

  “I know everyone, especially Paeton, is wondering why April and Esther are here. Well, here’s the answer. These two single moms did not accept that a TV audience’s inability to distinguish the babies was sufficient proof to vindicate Paeton of the charge of not being able to recognize her own child. When they heard about Steedly Black’s challenge, they wanted to be here to see Paeton personally identify her baby. If she does, April has promised that SMACK will endorse Paeton for National Single Mom of the Year, and Esther likewise will support her.”

  Excited applause.

  “And I’m sorry Steve isn’t here because if he was successful, In Your Face was willing to drop the breaking-and-entering charges.”

  Expressed regret.

  “So that’s part of the rea
son April and Esther are with us. But they also came because we told them we had a big surprise for them. Didn’t we, gals?”

  Esther and April nodded enthusiastically.

  “Well, here’s the surprise. Each of them will have an opportunity to make a correct choice about the babies.”

  Wild applause.

  Paeton noticed April flinch and Esther stiffen. For the first time, Paeton was starting to have fun.

  Esther protested. “But I don’t—”

  “Both of you have doubts about Paeton’s sincerity of mom-hood. Now you will have the chance to be in her shoes.”

  Esther opened her mouth to speak again but was cut off by Royale.

  “Here’s how we will do this. Esther, you’re first. Go over to either table and study that baby. You will have exactly two minutes to memorize all you can about that child.”

  Esther got up tentatively. She turned to Royale. “But you never said—”

  “After two minutes, you will be escorted offstage. We will move the babies or not. Then you come back and tell us if that is still the same baby. Got it? Okay, start now.”

  As Esther reached one of the tables, her baby started crying. She fished out a bottle, but never got the nipple into the baby’s mouth because she was concentrating so heavily on the child on the table.

  Royale addressed the camera. “We’ll take a short break for some important messages, and when we come back, we will ask Esther to give her answer.”

  The camera pulled away with Esther frantically scrutinizing the infant.

  Paeton watched panic settle over Esther. She was twitching all over as Wanda led her offstage while the audience voiced its ideas to switch or not switch the children. The fun faded for Paeton, and anxiety revisited her.

  Commercials run, the stage director pointed to Royale.

  “Now, audience, what shall we do?”

  The audience was in an uproar. Half wanted to move the baby, the other half didn’t. Finally, Royale motioned to switch babies. When the deed was done, she called out, “Okay, Wanda, bring Esther back to the same table. And audience, please, no help.”

  Esther meekly followed Wanda to the table. She started chewing on her lower lip.

  “Well, Esther, is that the same baby?”

  Paeton could tell Esther was in deep trouble and hating this turn of events. Her one claim to fame was up for grabs.

  Esther started nodding her head, slowly at first, then with increasing vigor. “Yes—yes, this is definitely the same baby.” She had made the decision of her life—and lost!

  The audience roared. Royale rushed to Esther’s aid. She jumped onstage. “No, I’m sorry, Esther, but we moved the babies. So now our worldwide audience can see how difficult it is to tell these remarkably similar babies apart. But you are still our reigning Single Mom of the Year. Don’t forget that. We all love you!” And she turned for confirmation. “Don’t we, audience?”

  The applause sign was lit, but the audience booed.

  Royale tried to laugh it off. “Oh, audience, you don’t really mean that. Uh, well, my director is telling me to move our show right along, so April, you won’t have time to make a choice.”

  April noticeably exhaled and wiped a bit of perspiration from her upper lip, her long fingernail snagging on a ring in the process. “I’m ready, Royale. I’m not afraid.” She clenched her hands over her head in a victory sign. “I can do it.”

  Royale and her director were taking no chances. “No time, no time. But we still have time to accomplish why we are all here today.” She put her palms up toward Paeton and Black. “Our guest, Paeton McPhilomy, possibly the next National Single Mom of the Year, and her challenger, Steedly Black, star reporter for In Your Face magazine, will go head-to-head in the challenge of the year. Wanda, give them each a card and a pen to write down their choice. We don’t want one to influence the other. Then, since Paeton and Steedly have been onstage watching and know which baby is which, we will send them offstage so they can’t know what we do out here. Wanda, take them backstage, please.”

  Now the pressure was on. A watching world did make things blur a bit. But Paeton was absolutely convinced she could pick Kelsey out from ten look-alike babies! Still, the pit of her stomach felt a mile deep. As she left the stage, she kept hoping Steve would appear. She admitted to herself that although she didn’t need him to be here, it would mean a lot to her if he were. Thanks for nothing, Kaselman!

  Paeton stood waiting backstage while Royale and the wolf pack were either moving the babies or not. She maintained a cool distance from Black. A lifetime passed until Paeton saw Wanda coming for them. Now she and Black stood in front of a baby on the table.

  Bedlam ruled in the audience, but Paeton was so inside her head, the sound was muffled as if towels were packed around her ears.

  Royale quieted the audience. “This time, Paeton and Steedly, we drew the curtain across the stage, so only our stagehands know if the babies have been switched. No one will know if anyone has identified the baby correctly until Wanda removes a diaper.” She spun to the audience. “Aren’t we excited, audience?”

  The audience shrieked with delight.

  “So, Paeton and Steedly—make the decision of your life!”

  Howling, screaming, and general pandemonium.

  Paeton stood tentatively in front of the assigned baby. Hi, Ryan, she said instinctively to herself. Ryan! Of course, it’s you. Kelsey’s over there. A tremendous feeling of certainty came over her. Of course she knew the children. She realized she had nothing to worry about! She could rattle off a dozen details distinguishing Kelsey from Ryan.

  Something about Black prompted Paeton to look at him. Their eyes met. To her delight, Paeton perceived open fear. Moreover, perspiration had soaked through his lavender jacket, forming a large dark blotch under each arm. For all his outward insolence, he was running scared. In retaliation, she tossed him a big smile and an exaggerated wink.

  Then she turned from him so he couldn’t see what she was writing on her card, and wrote Ryan’s name. Victorious, she sauntered with a hint of arrogance to Royale and presented her choice.

  Black was left in front of the infant, nervously chewing the end of his pen.

  “Time’s up, Steedly,” Royale trilled.

  Black hesitated another moment before making his choice. Then he scribbled something and gave the card to Royale.

  Suddenly, the audience started screaming and pointing to the stage entrance.

  Steve!

  Mr. Mom bounded down the stairs and stopped next to Paeton. He was perspiring freely. He waved to Royale and the audience. “Sorry I’m late, Royale.” Then he whispered, his mouth close to Paeton’s ear. “My phone battery went dead. I don’t know how much you heard when I called you.” Paeton shivered as his breath tickled her.

  She didn’t know whether to be happy or not. She had finally nixed this jerk forever. Now he and his powers were back? Had he lied? Changed his mind? What?

  She responded, not daring to meet his eyes. “You said you wouldn’t be here.”

  “No, I didn’t. I said I wouldn’t be here on time! I told you I would be here. What do you think I am—a jerk jock?”

  Paeton was shocked. Was it true? Steve hadn’t let her down after all. She had experienced an incredible rush from his completely unexpected appearance. Maybe there was a Camelot. Maybe she didn’t have to marry him. Maybe she could just shack up with him. She was certainly tired of going through the exercise of hating him and loving him and hating him and loving him.

  Royale finally quieted the audience. “Steve, you’re not too late. But we are running out of time. Please go over to the baby where Wanda is standing. And make your guess. Call it out. Paeton and Steedly have already given me their guesses.”

  “Guesses? I know my own son, for god’s sake!”

  Royale was loving this. She was almost dancing up and down the aisles.

  Steve reached the table.

  “Okay, Steve—who is it?
”

  “Ryan, of course.”

  The audience was murmuring, wondering who had won, and who had lost.

  Royale held the mike close to her mouth and pitched her voice low for dramatic effect. She spoke to the camera. “This is it, members of the viewing audience. This is the moment of truth. For Paeton McPhilomy and Steve Kaselman and challenger Steedly Black. After weeks of turmoil and anguish in the public eye.” She held the selection cards aloft and turned to the audience. “Here are the final selections. Paeton says it’s Ryan. Steve says it’s Ryan. Steedly say it’s a girl—that would be Kelsey!”

  “Ooooh!” cooed the audience.

  “Okay, Wanda, open the diaper and tell us if it’s a boy or a girl. There is obviously a difference of opinion.”

  Wanda unfastened the diaper. The audience was amazingly hushed. Wanda looked up with a grim smile. “It’s a girl!”

  Paeton felt her knees buckle as the audience gasped in unison. She found herself grabbing Steve’s forearm for support as she had done at JFK International. Steve lost all color. April appeared shocked. Esther pumped her clenched right fist again. Paeton dared a glance at Steve. He looked as if he’d been hit in his injured knee by a Mack truck.

  “What did I tell you!” Steedly hissed. Then he folded his arms in triumph and stood looking at her and Steve disdainfully.

  What sounded like snarling rose from the wolf pack.

  Impossible! This is crazy! Something is wrong! Paeton regained her balance. Then she turned to Royale and the frenzied wolves. With all the certainty of a loving mom, she cried, “That’s not possible! Ryan has darker eyes than Kelsey. Kelsey’s neck is longer and narrower. Kelsey has—”

  Paeton was cut off by a sudden guffawing from the crowd. She saw fingers pointing behind her. Paeton turned to see a two-foot stream of pale yellow liquid shooting into the air from the baby Wanda had announced as a girl.

  Royale pranced naughtily over to Paeton and Steve. “Only joking, guys! You know how we reality TV hosts are! Have to have our little fun!” She patted each on the shoulder. “Sorry, Paeton. Sorry, Steve.” Spurts of tittering and clapping were coming from the audience. Royale approached Black, whose once confidently folded arms now hung like old sticks of celery. “Sorry, you lose, Steedly. But you’re such a good sport, I know you want to congratulate these two loving parents who really know their own children.”