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Matchmaking Baby

Page 7

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “Well, honestly, Joanie, what did you expect?” Liz asked.

  Joanie did a double take at Liz’s reaction. “Wait a minute. I told you. Emily is not my baby.”

  Liz nodded agreeably. “So you’ve said today, numerous times.”

  Joanie paused, her heart pounding as she got a glimmer of what she was going to be up against until the situation with Emily and Steve was resolved. “But you don’t believe me, do you?” she asked softly.

  “And neither, apparently, does Steve. Which is why, of course, he did the absolutely right thing and offered to marry you right away.”

  Joanie considered trying to explain one more time that this situation was not her fault, then decided the heck with it; no one was listening to her, anyway, so why waste her breath?

  Evidently realizing Joanie wasn’t going to say anything else on the subject, Liz prodded, “What did you tell him?”

  “No, of course.”

  Liz looked appalled. “Joanie, for heaven’s sake. Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

  “Not by half,” Joanie muttered, and meant it.

  “But if Emily…I mean…”

  Joanie held up both palms to ward off the lecture she was sure was coming. “Now, Liz, don’t you start.”

  “I know how it is to be in love and not want anyone to know about it. I’m not sure why anyone would want to keep a baby as precious as Emily hidden but…well, I’m sure there are reasons. Good reasons. I mean, she was obviously loved and well taken care of.”

  Joanie thought so, too. And that was a comfort to her. The conjecture about her was not thrilling, though. Figuring if she couldn’t defeat the talk, she’d join it, she speculated in a deadpan voice, “Perhaps I did it to save my reputation.”

  Liz pressed her lips together solemnly. “Perhaps.”

  Joanie flushed. “I was kidding.”

  “Well, I wasn’t.” Liz’s voice dropped a persuasive notch. “Look, Joanie, I know you haven’t been here that long, but in the time we’ve known each other we’ve become good friends. You know if you needed help, I’d give it.”

  Liz’s efforts to help were sincere, if misguided. “I know. And right now, I need you and everyone else to back off,” Joanie replied, standing her ground.

  “All right, I will,” Liz agreed, “but not before I say one more thing. I know better than anyone how my grandmother feels about any scandal becoming attached to Bride’s Bay. And I also know there’s a morals clause in your contract with the resort that says you could be dismissed for conduct unbecoming, but this situation does not fall into that.”

  Joanie thought about Elizabeth Jermain’s desire to run a squeaky clean, family-oriented resort. Licentious affairs and secret illegitimate children did not fall into that category. “Steve isn’t just anyone, Liz. He’s a public figure, one who’s graced the cover of many a national magazine. If even the suspicion got out that he was suspected of fathering an illegitimate child, we’d have tabloid reporters on the island in no time.”

  And Joanie couldn’t imagine what a nightmare that would be, particularly if the mere mention of the island reignited the previous scandal involving Rafe Jermain. Unable to hide her nervousness, she said, “If that happened, I’d lose my job for sure.”

  “Not if the scandal had somehow been defused by then, an agreement between Emily’s two parents reached.”

  Joanie groaned softly, sure where this was heading. “You mean marriage, don’t you?”

  Liz nodded. “I’m sure my grandmother would prefer it. But if that didn’t happen, you could stay here and be a single mother, you know. I feel sure my grandmother would agree to that if you just went and talked to her.”

  Joanie admitted silently that prior to Emily’s appearance on her doorstep, she wouldn’t have imagined that marriage to Steve Lantz was even in the realm of possibilities. Now she knew it was so. All she had to do was go along with Steve and Liz’s view of things…But that wouldn’t be fair to Emily.

  “I think it’s premature to discuss all this,” Joanie said, even if the idea of marrying Steve was a little tempting.

  “I just wanted to lay out the options for you,” Liz said.

  “I appreciate your concern,” Joanie said, working to keep her emotions in check. “But to be honest with you, I am more concerned with locating Fiona than working out my love life.” Or lack of it.

  “Of course. You must be very upset with the woman. Leaving Emily on your doorstep the way she did.”

  Joanie deliberately misunderstood what Liz was implying. “Of course I’m angry, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can in no way shape or form lay claim to Emily as either my child or my familial responsibility,” Joanie said.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Unable to take any more, Joanie exploded, “Of course I’m sure! Why can’t anyone believe me when I tell them that Emily is not my child? And you, Liz. You’re supposed to be my friend. Surely you, better than anyone, know I would never abandon my child.”

  “I know you wouldn’t want to—”

  “No,” Joanie corrected. “I wouldn’t, period. Now if you don’t mind, this discussion is over. I really need to get some sleep.”

  Then, remembering her earlier conversation with Elizabeth Jermain and the judge, Joanie told Liz her grandmother was looking for her.

  “I know,” Liz replied coyly.

  After her friend left, Joanie couldn’t help but wonder what she was up to, but quickly lost interest when she walked in to check on the sleeping child.

  Oh, Emily, where did you come from?

  An ironic smile crossed Joanie’s face when she thought about how everyone mistakenly believed Emily was hers—even Steve. And now this little bundle of joy had unknowingly brought her and Steve together again. Just like a little matchmaker. But Joanie wasn’t so sure she and Steve would have an ending any happier than their last. Even with Emily in the picture….

  “JOANIE, DEAR, may I speak to you for a moment?” Elizabeth Jermain asked at six o’clock Thursday morning as she stopped by Joanie’s table in the employee cafeteria.

  “Certainly.” Joanie stood and held out a chair for the woman. When the elegantly attired Elizabeth was seated, Joanie pushed in her chair for her, then resumed her seat.

  “I assume there’s been no word from Fiona as of yet?” Elizabeth questioned.

  “No, none,” Joanie said. “I called the authorities. There’ve been no reports of a missing child. The police won’t be coming to the island for several days. Until then, I offered to take care of Emily. They agreed that’d be fine for two reasons. One, there’s a temporary shortage of foster care. And two, there’s still a chance Fiona will turn up to reclaim Emily at any moment.”

  “What if she doesn’t?” Elizabeth asked. “If it turns out Emily has been abandoned to you, do you still intend to turn the child over to the foster-care system? Or will you continue to take a more personal interest in her?”

  Joanie glanced at Emily, who was messily attempting to eat oatmeal and toast with jelly all by herself. She knew that relinquishing all responsibility would be the quickest way to demonstrate to one and all that Emily was not her child. But she couldn’t do that, not without putting Emily at risk of being caught up in endless bureaucratic red tape and placed in a less than ideal situation.

  “Actually,” Joanie told Elizabeth frankly, “I’m hoping it won’t come to my making a tough decision like that. In any case, I’d like a few more days to try and straighten the situation out, if I may.”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth said softly, her glance drifting from Joanie to Emily and back again, “I can see where you might want to do that. After all, every child needs his or her mother, and darling Emily is no exception.”

  Joanie looked at the matriarch of the Jermain family and knew that Elizabeth suspected Emily was Joanie’s child, too.

  Joanie cupped her coffee cup with both hands. “The problem with that plan, however, is twofold,” Joanie continued. “One, I don’t
know very much about toddlers at all.”

  “No new mother does,” Elizabeth consoled Joanie gently. “But in time they all learn. Just take it one day at a time.”

  “Yes. Well, that leads us to the second problem,” Joanie said, working hard to rein in her exasperation. “I still have to work, and managing both Emily and my job is going to be difficult, to say the least.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be glad to lend a hand,” Steve Lantz said from behind Joanie. Without waiting to be invited to join them, he pulled up a chair. “And so will a few others. So you should still be able to work, Joanie.”

  “Good morning, Steve,” Elizabeth said, regarding him assessingly. “You’re up bright and early.”

  “I had planned to help Joanie with the baby this morning,” he said. He leaned sideways and planted a good-morning kiss on top of Emily’s head.

  Emily chortled happily and grinned at Steve.

  Joanie flushed.

  Elizabeth continued to study Steve and Emily both. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I believe that little girl has your profile, Steve. In fact, I think she looks remarkably like you, now that I see the two of you side by side.”

  “Really?” It was Steve’s turn to flush self-consciously. But unlike Joanie, he looked delighted by Elizabeth’s implication, as if that proved what he had been saying all along.

  Elizabeth tapped her hand on the tabletop. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to wait a few more days for this situation to be straightened out,” she said finally as she smiled and rose with regal grace. “Steve, I expect you to give Joanie all the help she needs.”

  “No problem,” Steve said, his low voice radiating with satisfaction.

  Elizabeth left them alone.

  “I think I’ll get some breakfast from the buffet,” Steve said, rising energetically. Freshly shaved and showered, he was handsome in tan deck pants and a long-sleeved polo with the hotel logo. “Can I get you anything?”

  Joanie shook her head. She noticed how soft and touchable his hair looked in the morning sunlight streaming through the windows, but resisted the thought. “I’ll just finish my coffee.”

  He returned moments later with a plate of food and a damp cloth for Emily’s face and hands. “Guess what they’re talking about in the kitchen?” he said, straddling his chair like a jock.

  “Us.”

  His teeth flashed white against his suntanned face as he grinned. “You got it.”

  Joanie watched him dig into his breakfast with the same uninhibited gusto he did everything else.

  “Columbia says that Desmond is taking bets that we’ll be married before all is said and done,” Steve continued.

  Joanie wasn’t surprised to learn that Desmond was in on the gossip about them, too. Working behind the hotel bar made the middle-aged black man privy to a lot of talk, and he was an excellent listener. Still, it irritated her. “That’s ridiculous!” Joanie fumed.

  Steve gave a sidelong look at Emily, who was now playing merrily with her food. “And Elizabeth isn’t the only one who’s noticed the familial resemblance between Emily and you and me.” Steve paused to wipe a spot of jelly off Emily’s chin. She smiled back at him, delighting in the attention.

  “A lot of babies have curly blond hair.”

  Steve wiped the stickiness from Emily’s hands, then handed her pieces of a corn muffin from his plate. “For the record, I am not enjoying being gossiped about, either,” he said flatly, his own irritation surfacing at last. He leaned toward Joanie conspiratorially, engulfing her in the tantalizing woodsy scent of his cologne. “But there is a way we could put all this to rest. And soon.”

  Joanie concentrated on breathing evenly as she looked away. “By getting married?” she said a great deal more nonchalantly than she felt.

  Steve covered her hand with his. Skin tingling, she tensed. People were staring and he seemed loathe to let go of her. He gave her a penetrating look. “My offer still stands.”

  Joanie thought he only wanted to marry her because he felt he had to marry her. In her book that wasn’t nearly good enough. She withdrew her hand from his and cast him a wordless look that told him precisely what she thought of his proposal.

  “Shampoo!” Emily said. She dug into her cereal bowl and lifted oatmeal-covered fingers toward her hair. Steve and Joanie reacted simultaneously, each of them rescuing one of her sticky hands before it reached its target destination. Emily giggled.

  “Emily fun-nee!” she said.

  “Oh, very funny,” Steve agreed in amusement. With his free hand, he reached for the damp washcloth and cleaned Emily’s hand. Still holding on to her playfully, he handed the cloth to Joanie. She washed Emily’s other hand, and her face, but there wasn’t much she could do about Emily’s jelly-stained outfit.

  “Looks like I’m going to have to change her clothes again,” Joanie said with a sigh. This mothering business was hard work.

  Steve frowned. “Did you bring the diaper bag?”

  “It’s in my office.”

  “Then let’s go.” Steve carried Emily in his arms. Joanie led the way.

  For lack of a better place, Joanie cleared off her desk and stood Emily in the center of it. Steve shut the door while she unsnapped Emily’s overalls. He studied Joanie’s unhappy expression. “Don’t look so down,” he said finally.

  As if that was possible when her whole life was falling apart around her, Joanie thought. “I can’t help it,” she grumbled. “I don’t like being the center of so much talk.”

  “I’m used to being the center of attention, both good and bad, so it doesn’t really bother me,” Steve admitted as he took charge of the jelly-smeared overalls. He turned them inside out, then folded them and placed them back in the diaper bag. “But it’s the first time, for you, hm?”

  Joanie coaxed Emily into a clean shirt. “Not really.”

  Steve edged closer, his shoulder brushing Joanie’s as he took Emily’s other hand. “This has happened before?”

  Joanie nodded. “When I was growing up. My parents quarreled constantly. Their fights were loud, dramatic and usually in front of the whole neighborhood. Everyone talked about them and made fun of them, and usually me, too.”

  “It must have been hard on you,” Steve said.

  “I was thoroughly humiliated, and at the same time I was helpless to do anything about it.” Joanie finished snapping Emily’s clean overalls. Emily rewarded her with a smile that showed all eight of her teeth. Joanie sat down on the edge of the desk. Emily tumbled into her lap and cuddled close. “I suppose that’s why I like solving people’s problems now,” Joanie admitted, smoothing Emily’s curls with her hand. “As concierge, I can often do something to make people’s lives more enjoyable, at least for a little while.”

  “And you’re a very good concierge,” Steve said, his tender glance and low voice reminding her of the time they had first met, when he stayed in the Myrtle Beach hotel where Joanie worked, and Joanie was doing her all to make his stay as blissful and problem-free as possible.

  “Unfortunately I’m afraid all this has tarnished my image,” Joanie said as Emily held out her hands to Steve.

  Obliging, Steve picked Emily up. Emily laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Not in terms of your work,” Steve disagreed.

  “No. In terms of me,” Joanie corrected. “And darn it all,” she whispered, her frustration with the situation evident, “I promised myself this would never happen. I promised myself that when I grew up I would always lead a very proper life. That I would never be caught screaming at my husband or making a spectacle of myself for all the neighbors to see, and I haven’t, yet here I am—the victim of innuendo and talk. And poor Emily, who’s done nothing to anyone, is now the brunt of it, too.”

  “Don’t forget me,” Steve said.

  “Believe me, I haven’t.” As their gazes clashed, there was a moment of sizzling awareness.

  Forcing back her turbulent emotions, Joanie dropped her eyes. “I’
m just glad Emily isn’t old enough to understand what’s going on. But one day she will be old enough—” Joanie sighed “—and what then?”

  “You talk as if you plan to keep her,” Steve said, a glint of approval in his eyes.

  Joanie told herself she neither wanted nor needed his approval. “It has occurred to me that the person who left her with me might not come back,” she retorted as Emily continued to cuddle against Steve’s broad swimmer’s chest.

  “And if that happened and you took Emily in, then everyone would see you as kind of a heroine, right?” Steve said as if for him, everything had just snapped into place. “And not the heartless mother who let her own child be raised by a stranger for the first year and a half of her life?”

  “Wait a minute!” Joanie straightened. “I’m not the villain here.”

  “I know that.” He towered over her, Emily still in his arms.

  “Do you?” Joanie’s heart thudded at his nearness. “Sometimes I wonder.”

  His glance roved her upturned face, his desire for her evident. “Well, you needn’t,” he began. “Because—”

  Emily broke the spell. She touched Steve’s face with her hands, putting her nose to his nose. “Down!” Emily demanded with toddler sternness, pointing at the sofa. “Down!”

  Steve looked at Joanie. “Is it all right?”

  She nodded, aware now there’d be no little girl in his arms to keep him from touching her or taking her in his arms again, if he wished.

  Noting a spot of jelly on her blazer, Joanie frowned and slipped the blazer off. She pulled a bottle of club soda from the drawer and blotted a little on the spot.

  “I care about Emily.” Steve watched the little girl begin to untie her shoes.

  “I know that, too,” Joanie said, relieved that Emily would be busy for the next few moments. Backing up so her hips were against the desk, Joanie laid her drying jacket aside. Doing her best to avoid the quiet challenge in his eyes, she sat on the desk and folded her arms. “I just don’t like the gossip.”

  “I know how much you want to protect her.” Steve’s gaze dropped to her silk blouse before returning to her face. “And in that regard, my heart goes out to you, Joanie,” he said. “I want to protect Emily from any hint of gossip or scandal, too.” He took a step nearer. “As for her being born out of wedlock, as I am guessing she was, I don’t have a problem with that. Most people here probably wouldn’t, either. But apparently you do mind the talk. So we’ll need to work around it.”

 

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