Matchmaking Baby

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  A chill went down Joanie’s spine. “Oh?”

  “He’s really cool.” Phoebe sighed. “You just look into his eyes and you know he understands you. Of course—” Phoebe paused to sign the sheet “—I already knew that because we’ve talked intimately before.”

  “Oh, really,” Joanie said casually, noting that Phoebe’s handwriting was an awful lot like the handwriting on the notes that had been left in regard to Emily. “When?”

  “It was about two and a half years ago.”

  “Which would have been late in the fall, your freshman year of college,” Joanie guessed. No, no, this can’t be. If it were so, Steve would have told me.

  “Right,” Phoebe continued. “When Steve actually came to give a motivational talk about goal-setting at Cornell, I was on the student committee that hosted him. We took him out for drinks and dinner afterward, and then I drove him back to his hotel, which was when we talked. But I don’t think he remembers much about that evening. Of course, I can hardly blame him. He was awfully tired and he’s traveled so much and met so many people he can’t recall everyone. But I know I’ll never forget that night,” Phoebe finished, her hand over her heart.

  “You should mention it to him,” Joanie prodded, “if it was that important to you. I’m sure he’d like to know,” she emphasized.

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” Phoebe retorted shyly. She glanced at her watch and made a face. “I better hurry if I don’t want to miss the evening seminars.” She paused. “Do me a favor, Ms. Griffin? Don’t say anything to Steve about…that evening, because it would really embarrass me.”

  “I won’t,” Joanie promised, albeit reluctantly.

  “Thanks. See you later, Ms. Griffin.”

  Joanie watched Phoebe run off to the meeting room. Was Phoebe one of Steve’s conquests? Was Phoebe Emily’s mom and not Irene, and Steve just didn’t recall? Joanie wondered miserably. And if so, what kind of man did that make Steve? Was she a fool to be falling in love with Steve all over again?

  She had no answers for that. All she knew was that every time she saw Steve with Emily or spent time with him herself, she gave a little more of her heart….

  “IS SOMETHING bothering you?” Steve asked, when Joanie saw him later that evening.

  Joanie had forced herself not to jump to any conclusions about Phoebe and Steve. For all she knew, Phoebe could be involved with Emily’s appearance in a very oblique way—she could be acting on someone else’s behalf, someone like Irene Martin. Or she could just be acting funny because she was hiding something that had nothing to do with either Steve or Emily or Irene. Just because Phoebe seemed to have a schoolgirl crush on Steve did not mean they’d had a child together. It could, however, mean that Phoebe wanted Steve to take her child—her illegitimate child by another man—and raise it as his own. For many women, Steve would be a dream father.

  As for her handwriting, anyone who knew calligraphy would write in the exact same manner. And plenty of people knew calligraphy.

  “Why would you ask that?” Joanie looked at Steve, pleased and touched that he had tidied her unit after putting Emily to bed for the evening and even had a room-service table with covered silver chafing dishes waiting.

  “You seem…distracted,” he said.

  And uneasy and scared that I’m following in my mother’s footsteps and falling in love with the wrong man, Joanie thought. “I’m just tired,” she said.

  “You want to call it a night?” His disappointment was obvious.

  She knew he’d planned a late-night supper for two. Perhaps some kisses and intimate talk, too. But Joanie didn’t want to face where those kisses and intimate talks might lead. Not tonight.

  “Would you mind?” Joanie asked. Ignoring the probing light in his eyes, she fibbed, “I’ve got to be up early to check on the setup for the Frisbee tournament tomorrow morning.”

  Chapter Ten

  Joanie looked at the sofa cushions in consternation. “I know your shoes were right here a second ago.”

  Emily giggled and toddled into the bedroom.

  Joanie followed, planting her hands on her hips as she surveyed the living quarters that had once been neat as a pin but were now strewn with baby things. “Emily, where are your shoes?” Joanie asked in amused exasperation. Saturday mornings were always busy at Bride’s Bay. Even more so when a conference was being held.

  Emily pushed a chair up to Joanie’s bed and climbed onto the sleep-rumpled sheets. She danced across the center, plopping down onto the pillows. “Night-night!” she called playfully, squeezing her eyes shut.

  A knock sounded on the door. Joanie pivoted and went to let Steve in. He was wearing a soft blue cotton shirt, open at the throat, with a white T-shirt beneath. Jeans and loafers completed the ensemble. Joanie inhaled the woodsy scent of after-shave that clung to his jaw and said hi.

  He smiled at her, their gazes locking, electricity sizzling through them both.

  His glance strayed to the hotel high chair one of the busboys had brought over on his break. He frowned. “You had breakfast already?”

  “A major mistake. I thought it would be easier than taking Emily to the employee cafeteria and allow us to get a faster start this morning, but all I did was give her enough fuel to play pranks on me.” She turned and called, “Emily, Steve’s here.” Breathtakingly aware of him right behind her, Joanie led the way into the bedroom.

  Emily had been sitting up, but as soon as she caught a glimpse of them, she lay back down and again squeezed her eyes shut.

  “Looks like Emily’s asleep,” Steve said loudly.

  She giggled.

  “Yes, I guess Emily is asleep,” Joanie said equally loudly. “The problem is we can’t find her shoes, and if we can’t find her shoes we can’t take her to the beach to watch the Frisbee-throwing contest this morning.”

  Emily scrambled to a sitting position as the excitement of an outing dawned on her.

  “Want to go on a walk, Em?” Steve asked. Emily nodded soberly. “Then help us find your shoes,” he said.

  “No shoes!” Emily shouted.

  “No shoes, no walk,” Steve replied. He bent down to look under the bed. Joanie looked behind the bathroom door and in the tub. Emily giggled at both of them.

  “Guess that means we’re cold,” Steve said, brushing against Joanie as they passed.

  Cold was not how Joanie would have described herself; she tingled from even that slight contact. Intent on their mission, however, she looked in the crib. Back out in the living room. On the closet floor with her own shoes. Steve checked out the laundry hamper and the wastebasket.

  Then Joanie looked beneath the still-mussy covers on her bed. “Aha!” She extracted first one shoe and then the other.

  Emily’s gleeful expression turned to one of trepidation. “No!” she said, curling her feet up under her, so it was impossible for them to put her shoes on. “No owie!”

  “I think she’s trying to tell us something,” Steve asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

  Joanie nodded soberly. “Like maybe these shoes are hurting her feet? Is that it, Emily?” Joanie sat down beside Emily on the rumpled covers. “Your shoes are hurting your feet?”

  In response, Emily grabbed her teddy and blanket and held them close to her chest. Steve sat down on the other side of Emily and compared the bottom of the shoe to the bottom of the girl’s foot. Sure enough, the shoes were looking a little small.

  “I think we’re going to have to go shopping again, Emily,” Steve said. He glanced at Joanie. “Is there any place on the island to buy shoes?”

  “The general store in the village. They don’t have a big selection, but what is there is good quality.”

  “All right. New shoes it is.” Steve shifted Emily onto his lap. “Em, want to go to the store?”

  “Beach!” Emily said. Leaning forward, she tried to put her shoes on herself.

  “I really should check on the Frisbee contest,” Joanie said, watching as Emily cuddled against
Steve. “And make sure everything’s going as scheduled.”

  Steve looked up. “I thought you had the morning off.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why?”

  Because Phoebe and Dennis had entered the contest, Joanie thought, and Joanie wanted to put Phoebe to the test with Emily, see what her reaction was to Emily when Dennis was watching.

  “I just thought it would be fun to see how it was going,” Joanie fibbed, not wanting to voice her suspicions to Steve until she had a little more proof. “And I thought it might amuse Emily to see them tossing the Frisbees.”

  Steve helped Emily put on her tiny pink-and-white windbreaker, then helped Joanie into hers. They put Emily in the stroller and were off. The day was beautiful—sunny and clear with a strong ocean breeze. As Joanie suspected, Phoebe and Dennis were among the couples practicing furiously in the half hour before the contest began. They were also arguing politics.

  “Senator Hatchworth’s economic model was by far the best,” Phoebe said, giving Dennis a saucy look.

  “The heck it was!” Dennis argued back, giving Phoebe an appreciative look. “The plan my father introduced to the Senate is way better, Phoebe.”

  Phoebe frowned. Looking over and seeing Joanie, Emily and Steve, she tossed the Frisbee back to Dennis, then ran over to join them.

  “Hi!” Phoebe grinned amicably up at Steve, then over at Joanie and down at Emily. “Are you two entered in the contest, too?”

  “No. We just thought we’d stop by on our way to the village. We’re going shoe shopping for Emily.”

  “Oh, neat!” Phoebe knelt down in front of Emily’s stroller as gulls swooped overhead. “Hi, sweetie. How are you?” Phoebe asked Emily softly. “Are you having a good time on the island even without your mama and daddy?”

  Emily perked up. She leaned toward Phoebe and captured a lock of her long blond hair. “Gi me gake gah Mama,” she said.

  Phoebe laughed in delight. “Gi me goo goo gah gah,” she said while beside her Dennis Wright scowled in boredom.

  Emily giggled and mimicked her the best she could. But Joanie noted, not sure whether she was happy or relieved, that there seemed no mother-daughter bond between the two.

  “Not really into babies, are you?” Steve remarked to Dennis.

  Dennis shook his head. “Can’t say I am, at least not right now.”

  “But Steve is, aren’t you, Steve?” Phoebe said, straightening.

  Which was another reason, Joanie thought, for Phoebe to abandon Emily to Steve.

  Steve nodded. “Into babies, and very much into Emily.”

  Phoebe smiled, a little wistfully this time. Hunkering down beside Emily one more time, she kissed her little hand. “You are one lucky kid, you know that?” Phoebe said. Then, aware Dennis was waiting on her, she said goodbye to the group and trotted off to resume practicing for the competition.

  Emily squirmed restlessly in her stroller. “Ready to head for the village?” Steve asked Joanie.

  She nodded.

  Again, she noted that Emily was not the least bit upset to leave Phoebe or Dennis or the beach. Which meant that if Emily was Phoebe’s daughter, there was not much of a bond between mother and child. Otherwise, Emily would be crying to stay with Phoebe. Unless Emily didn’t know Phoebe at all, because Emily had been brought up so far by the mysterious Fiona…

  Joanie sighed. If that was the case, maybe Phoebe was right to abandon Emily. Maybe Phoebe thought Emily needed more mature parents. Maybe Phoebe just wanted to pursue her own education and establish herself in her career before tackling motherhood. Phoebe certainly looked up to Steve and admired him. Was it possible Emily was really Dennis’s child and Phoebe had just selected Steve to be the father because she thought Steve was a good guy and would be a good father? And because Fiona, for whatever reason, could no longer care for Emily?

  Joanie had to find out the truth. If Phoebe was Emily’s mother, Joanie was going to have to get Phoebe to own up to that because Emily deserved that much, and more.

  “YOU’VE BEEN awfully quiet,” Steve said as they approached the general store.

  Joanie didn’t know if she should tell him about her suspicions regarding Phoebe and Dennis or just wait for Phoebe to do the right thing on her own. “That’s because I have a lot on my mind,” she said.

  “Such as?” Steve held open the door.

  “For starters, should we get Emily traditional whiteleather high-top shoes, like the ones she’s got now that are too small, or running shoes, which might be a little more practical for the island?”

  “Why not get her both?” Steve said. “Unless,” Steve continued to the clerk who came forward to help them, “there’s some reason a toddler shouldn’t wear running shoes.”

  “Running shoes are fine as long as they have the proper support and ours all do,” the clerk said with a smile.

  Fifteen minutes later, Emily was wearing her new shoes.

  “What do you say?” Steve asked, casting a glance around at the vast array of goods in the children’s section of the store. “Should we pick up a few more outfits for Emily as long as we’re here?”

  “Emily could use a few things,” Joanie agreed. With Steve’s help, she picked out a sweatshirt embroidered with the resort logo and another pair of sturdy denim overalls and coordinating turtleneck pullover. “These will be great for playing outdoors in, and—” she found a sun hat “—this will keep her head from getting sunburned.”

  “How about some more pajamas?” Steve said, picking out a pink flannel sleeper, with Snoopy on the front. “And some sunglasses—” he added a pair to the pile growing on the counter “—so Emily can look cool?”

  Joanie sighed, looking at the pile. “I think that’s enough,” she said.

  Steve wanted to buy out the whole store. He handed over his credit card. Joanie walked Emily around while their purchases were rung up.

  Watching them, Steve thought he’d never seen a more perfect-looking mother and daughter. The biology of the situation aside, he sensed Joanie knew it, too.

  Finished, they headed out into the spring sunshine once again. Emily protested when Joanie went to put her into the stroller. She raised her arms for Steve to pick her up.

  He complied. “Want to do a little window-shopping and then stop for lunch?” he suggested, taking Joanie’s hand with his free one.

  Joanie’s hair gleamed gold in the sunshine. Color crept into her cheeks, and her eyes were alight with pleasure and excitement. “There aren’t many shops,” she said, laughing.

  “Who cares? Not me, when I have two such beautiful ladies for company.”

  Steve spied the upscale sandwich shop/bakery down the street. The delicious aroma of freshly baked bread wafted toward them. “Hey. Let’s have lunch now. That place looks great. Smells even better. What do you say?”

  “Cookie!” Emily hollered.

  “Well, that certainly answers my question.”

  “All this stroller seems to be good for is stowing packages,” Joanie said, pushing it ahead of her.

  Steve strode along feeling as if the three of them had done this a hundred times before. His dreams seemed to be coming true.

  Ye Olde Sandwich Shop had a self-serve counter and a daily menu written on a chalkboard. There were four very small tables with two chairs each and a ginghamcurtained bay window that fronted the street.

  Minutes later, Joanie carried two trays of sandwiches and drinks back to the table, while Steve looked around for a high chair. There wasn’t one. “No problem,” he said. “Emily can sit on my lap and eat her lunch, can’t you, Emily?”

  The shop was beginning to fill up as other tourists came in for lunch. Joanie watched a woman with a baby in a stroller, her arms laden with packages, come in.

  “I can’t imagine trying to do this alone,” she murmured as Emily reached for her.

  “Being a single parent would be difficult,” he agreed, placing Emily on Joanie’s lap. “Whenever possible, I think a
child should have two parents,” he said firmly.

  Joanie stroked Emily’s hair, restoring order to the wispy halo of golden curls. “You’re thinking about the way you grew up, aren’t you?”

  Steve nodded, wishing everything was already settled, that Joanie was already his wife. “My father’s deserting us had a big impact on me—a very negative one,” Steve confessed. “I don’t want my own child to suffer the same. And speaking of that, we need to talk about the future.”

  For a moment, Joanie wasn’t sure she’d heard right. “Here? Now?” she whispered, stunned he had chosen such a public place for a private discussion.

  “Don’t tell me you’re not thinking about it,” he said intimately, his eyes roving her fondly as she cuddled Emily on her lap.

  “Of course I’m thinking about Emily’s future,” Joanie said, blushing.

  “Not just Emily’s future. I’m talking about our future, Joanie.” He reached for her left hand and brought it to his lips. “Yours, mine and Emily’s.”

  “Emily was really left with you, Steve, not me,” she said a great deal more casually than she felt. “The second note told us that. My having her at all was a giant mistake.”

  Steve leaned forward. “I doubt Emily would call it that. She’s obviously come to love you, Joanie. And you can’t tell me you don’t love her, too,” he said huskily.

  She stared down at the table. “Of course I do.” It was impossible not to love the vivacious toddler.

  “We need you in our lives, Joanie. Emily and I both do. And we want you with us.”

  Need you. Want you. Not love you. She met his eyes and saw herself, and all she was, reflected in them. “But I have no legal claim to her,” Joanie protested softly.

  “But I do, and I want you in my life.” He covered her hand with his. “I want you in our life.”

  He was only doing this because of Emily, because he wanted her to have the sort of family he’d never had.

  Joanie studied him as a kaleidoscope of emotions twisted through her. “The only thing I want you to do right now is find Irene.” Because only then, if she saw for herself how Steve felt about the woman, would she know in her heart what the future held for her and Steve. “Have you been able to locate her?”