Fudgeballs And Other Sweets

by Lori Copeland

  “Does your daughter live nearby?”

  His laugh was anything but amused. “No. She lives in Chicago, but her mother’s taken her to Europe for the summer.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Nice,” he corrected. “She’s in Nice,” he explained. “I’m trying to track her down. I’m supposed to have my daughter come stay with me next month, but Nancy disappeared a couple of weeks ago with her. I had to mail Megan’s birthday present to Chicago. God only knows how long it will be before she gets it.”

  The hostility in his voice had changed to vulnerability. Jenny realized he was hurting. The attention he showered on Dory suddenly made sense. He missed his daughter, so much so he tried to appease his loneliness through another child.

  For the first time, she felt at peace with her decision to end her relationship with Brian. She was still plagued by an occasional doubt, but hearing Dave’s problems strengthened her belief that she’d made the right choice. She and Brian had the right chemistry but the wrong formula for a lasting relationship. Unlike Brian, she’d have no problem committing to marriage and babies, but when she did, she wanted it to last.

  Forever.

  3

  “HEADS UP, FRENCHIE!” Jake nudged the sleeping Princess with his hip. “Something’s happening—it don’t look right.”

  Princess fluttered her eyelashes and focused on Rob lifting Dory from the baby carrier of his bicycle. The morning sun glistened off the Mackinac Straits.

  “Uh-oh, Jenny’s not going to like him bringing the baby to work again.” Princess yawned. “Why’s he so early?”

  “Check it out, sleepyhead. He ain’t coming to work.” Jake snorted and licked his nose. “Look’s like everything he owns is packed in that bag on the bike.”

  Princess rose and strutted to the end of her chain, straining to get a good look at the cycle. She hurried toward Rob and sniffed his shoes, then turned to Jake, who had joined her. “He’s wearing clean socks,” Princess whispered.

  Jake snorted. “I’d say he’s flying the coop. Why else would he be wearing socks at all?”

  Princess started leaping in circles. “Oh, no, oh, no! He can’t leave. Jenny needs him.” She jumped and barked at Rob.

  Jake swatted her with his paw. “Get a grip, curly locks. Get a grip.”

  Princess sat down, then jumped up again. “And the baby—what would we do without the baby?”

  “Will you calm down? You’ll get yourself all lathered up—and you know what that docs to that kinky hair of yours.”

  They both sat as quiet as church mice while Rob laid the carryall on the fudge shop’s doorstep, kissed Dory on the forehead, gave her a gentle pat, then turned, walked to his bicycle and rode away.

  Jake yawned. “Looks like you’re not going to have to worry about what to do without the baby—more like what’re you gonna do with it.”

  A tiny whimper escaped Princess and she leaned into Jake. “Dory is so cute. Come, monsieur. We must say hello.”

  Jake waddled beside Princess, and the two peered inside the carrier. Sniff, sniff.

  “What’s that smell?” Jake asked.

  “Baby powder. Isn’t it exquisite!”

  Jake burrowed his nose deeper to investigate a sputtering sound. He jumped back, snorted and shook from head to tail. “Phew! That ain’t baby powder! That stinks. What’d she step in?”

  Princess spun in a circle. “She doesn’t walk, silly. She just did what comes natural to a baby. She dirtied her diaper.”

  “Dirtied? Hell, it smells like a pile of…. She’s sitting in that?”

  Princess ignored him, knowing she needed her human. “Yip, yip!” Oh, Jenny! The baby needs changing.

  “Woof!” Stay back, Dave! Run for your life!

  “PRINCESS?” Jenny opened the screen door to look out. “Is that irritating bulldog—” Her gaze dropped to the step.

  Baby Dory rubbed her eyes, blinking sleepily. When she saw Jenny, she burst into gurgling glee.

  Dave stepped out of the kite shop, broom in hand. He glanced at the dogs, then at Jenny. “I’ve been keeping my eye on Jake. He hasn’t done—” His gaze moved to Dory. “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know. I came in early this morning, and Rob wasn’t here.” Jenny stooped to pick up the baby, frowning. She nuzzled Dory’s neck and made the baby laugh. “Smells like you left a little present in your diaper.”

  Present? Jake rolled over and played dead.

  Dave reached for the envelope pinned to the baby’s jumper. “It’s addressed to you.”

  Still frowning, Jenny handed Dory to Dave. She heard his sharp intake of breath as he quickly held the infant at arm’s length, turning his face upwind.

  Jenny read the letter, sinking to the wooden step. “He’s gone,” she whispered.

  “Who?”

  “Rob.”

  “Gone? Where?”

  Jenny opened the letter and read aloud. “I’m sorry, Jenny, but I’m going after Teensy. My life is nothing without her. I know you will take good care of Dory. Sorry to leave you in a bind, but you know how she hates to stay with strangers. Rob.”

  “Hell.” Dave assessed the situation. “You’ll have to notify the authorities.”

  Jenny shot off the step. “That’s the last thing I’d do.”

  “The child is abandoned—you can’t just keep her.”

  “I can’t report Dory abandoned! Rob’s simply asked me to take care of her until he gets back.” Heat suffused her cheeks. Turn Dory over to strangers? How insensitive could he be? “If I report Rob’s actions to child services, they’ll put her in foster care. I can’t do that.”

  “Jenny, be reasonable.” Dave shifted Dory in his arms. “Rob and Teensy are nothing but kids themselves—irresponsible ones at that. They’ve deserted their child!”

  She brushed his arguments aside. How she handled the matter was none of his business. “You don’t know anything about them. They love Dory. They’ll be back.”

  “When does the note say they’ll be back?”

  “It doesn’t—but I know Rob. He’s upset right now, not thinking clearly. He may be young, but he’s not irresponsible.” She looked at Dory, wondering how she would manage until Rob found Teensy and convinced her to stay with him.

  “And if they don’t come back?”

  “I’ll take care of her, if that’s what it takes.”

  “You?” He laughed. “What do you know about babies?”

  Her chin lifted with resolve. She knew zilch about babies, but she couldn’t let Rob down. He and Teensy would come to their senses and be back within the week. “Enough,” she said.

  Their gazes locked.

  “Who’ll run your business? You couldn’t keep up with its demands even when Rob was helping you,” he said.

  She heard the phone ring and turned to answer it.

  “Wait a minute! We’re having a conversation!” Dave caught the door with his elbow and followed her in, still holding Dory a safe distance in front of him. The baby kicked and flailed her arms playfully. “Kid, you’re potent,” he grumbled.

  Jenny answered the phone, glad to have a moment to try to pull together her thoughts. How was she going to manage?

  Dave wrinkled his nose, whispering, “What should I do with her?”

  Jenny waved him off, listening intently to the conversation and scribbling numbers on a pad. “Yes, yes, I can meet the deadline. No problem. Floridian blue ribbons, yes. Each box will have a blue ribbon. No, I won’t forget. Yes, Floridian blue. Definitely Floridian. Yes, thank you for the order. No, I’ll have them ready. No problem. Not navy blue, not pale blue, Floridian. I understand.” Her hand trembled as she put the phone in the cradle.

  “Big order?”

  She stared into space. “What the heck is Floridian blue?”

  Dave winced as Dory pulled the hairs on his arm. “What about the baby?”

  Jenny snapped to attention. “Two days. I’ve got two days. Two hundred eighty-eight fudg
eballs, two to a box—white box tied with blue ribbon. Make sure it’s Floridian blue. Not navy blue, not pale blue. Floridian blue.”

  Dave swung Dory back and forth in front of Jenny’s face. “In the meantime? What about the baby?”

  “She needs to be changed.”

  “I know she needs to be changed. By now everyone on the island knows it.”

  Jenny grabbed the telephone book and rapidly thumbed through the pages. “I’ve got to find a replacement for Rob. I need help—desperately.” She ran her index finger down a column of numbers.

  Dave held Dory out to her again. “The baby?”

  “Do you know anyone who needs a job?”

  “I know someone who’s done a job.”

  “Be serious.”

  “Take a whiff—you think this isn’t serious?”

  She settled on a number and punched it into the phone, cradling the receiver between her ear and her shoulder as she searched through a drawer, finally extracting a disposable diaper. “Here.” She jammed the diaper under his chin. “Hello? Mrs. Wilcox? Jenny McNeill at the fudge shop. Could I interest you in a job?”

  DAVE WET A CLOTH with warm water then stripped the soiled diaper off Dory. Memories flooded him as he wiped the tiny pink bottom. How many years had it been? He couldn’t begin to count the number of times he’d changed Megan. She had been like Dory, playful and sweet. If only he could hold her again. Where was she? He could throttle Nancy!

  “There we go, sweetie,” he said, lifting Dory,in his arms. She immediately stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked loudly. “Hungry?” He bounced her on his shoulder and patted her back. “Let’s see if we can find something.”

  He needed to get back to his shop, but when he looked at Dory, he softened. How could her parents abandon her? He’d do anything to have Megan with him.

  “Did you find everything you needed?” Jenny asked, interrupting his thoughts.

  “Everything except breakfast. I don’t know how much longer her thumb will hold out.”

  Jenny smiled. “Isn’t she cute?”

  Jenny stood so close, her perfume intoxicated him. Chanel? “Yes, she’s cute,” he mused, thinking more in terms of Jenny herself. She was beautiful. He hadn’t thought about a woman since his divorce, not seriously, so why did Jenny suddenly look and smell good to him? They could barely say two consecutive civil words to each other, and all of a sudden he was wondering if she’d go out to dinner if he asked. Her smile, the curve of her hip, long tan legs that tapered to trim ankles. Since when did ankles start looking so good? He’d been without female companionship too long.

  “There’s formula in the back room. Rob bought it last week.” Jenny wiped her hands on a towel. “I’ll mix a bottle.”

  “Better let me do that. Here, you hold Dory.”

  “I’m capable of mixing formula.”

  “I didn’t say you weren’t.”

  “You implied it. Look, Dave, just because you’ve had a child and I haven’t doesn’t mean—”

  “Let’s not argue about baby bottles. You fix the bottle, I’ll take her to my shop and—”

  “Oh, no, she’s my responsibility. I’ll feed her right here.”

  “I have more time than you at the moment. Peter’s at the store today—”

  “I can manage. Help’s on the way. Mrs. Wilcox can give me a couple days a week.” She reached for Dory, but Dave pulled back.

  “You have fudgeballs to make and all those blue ribbons to tie.”

  Jenny sank onto the nearest bench. “Please don’t say blue. It’s Floridian. ”

  They both laughed, and the tension subsided. It was hard to refuse him when he looked at her with those puppy-dog eyes. He seemed so happy with Dory, and she needed her hands free.

  “Okay, you feed the baby, and I’ll wrap fudgeballs.”

  Dave grinned. “Deal.” He glanced at Dory. “I haven’t had breakfast with a woman this pretty in a long time.”

  THAT EVENING, Jenny sat down to rock Dory. The day had been hectic beyond belief. She knew she should be working on the financial statement, but the baby felt so good in her arms. She hugged Dory’s warm, cuddly body close. Now she knew why people had babies. So they could rock them. The gentle back and forth, back and forth dissolved the cares of the day. Dory had drifted off to sleep, but Jenny couldn’t lay her down yet. If she did, she would have to quit rocking—and rocking was nice.

  She hummed a lullaby her mother used to sing to her. “Mama’s gonna buy you a something, something.” She had forgotten the words but not the tune. She smiled at Dory, who was making sucking motions with her sweet mouth. “And if that something doesn’t something, Mama’s gonna buy you a something else.”

  Mama. The word felt natural on her tongue.

  Would she ever be a mama? She squeezed Dory tighter. If Rob and Teensy didn’t come back, she would—by default. If that were to happen, would she be able to keep the child? Dave was right. Authorities would eventually have to be notified. The thought made her queasy. She refused to believe Rob would be so coldhearted.

  It would be hard to assume responsibility for the infant without risking the expansion of Fudgeballs. Motherhood wasn’t factored into the next few months of her life. She hated to admit it, but Dave had been so helpful lately she almost hated to see him leave.

  He was right about her knowing nothing about babies. A mortgage and picket fence were high on her list of priorities. But finding the right man to share her dream wasn’t that simple, and her life was too hectic to go looking.

  She pushed against the floor with her slippered feet and nudged the rocker in motion again. Sometimes life was downright complicated.

  DAVE CLOSED the cash register, then sacked the customer’s purchases. On the other side of the wall, he could hear Dory screaming at the top of her lungs. Teething, he decided. Lower incisors. Always an ugly experience. Then upper incisors. Really nasty.

  Jake sent up a loud howl as Dory screeched. Darn that dog. He’d started sympathizing with the baby’s wails, making the situation worse. Tourists steered clear of the racket.

  Dave stepped to the door. “Knock it off, Jake!”

  Jake looked up, lifted his head and howled louder.

  “Thanks.” The customer pocketed his change. “That dog out there sure can howl.” The fiftyish man looked in the sack before closing it.

  “I’m afraid my dog’s decided he’s in love with the baby next door.” Grabbing an empty foam cup, Dave followed the patron out the front door. The man continued down the street as Dave made a ninety-degree turn into Fudgeballs. Jenny glanced up as he entered.

  He lifted the foam cup. “Ran out of coffee. Have an extra cup?”

  “Just made a fresh pot.” She motioned toward the back room. “Help yourself. Are you aware your dog is howling like a banshee?”

  “He’s sympathizing with Dory.” He walked over to tickle Dory on the belly. “What’s all the crying? Is she teething?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea. She’s been like this all morning.”

  Dave frowned when he saw the dark circles shadowing Jenny’s eyes.

  “Rough night?”

  “No, Dory slept like a—”

  “Baby?” Dave guessed.

  Jenny nodded. “It was shortly after breakfast when she turned militant.”

  Dave poked a finger in the corner of the infant’s diaper. “She’s dry.”

  “Dry, fed, pampered, rocked—I’m at the end of my list.”

  Grinning, Dave picked up Dory and put her on his shoulder. This he could handle. When Megan was little, he took care of her more than Nancy did. Nancy was more concerned with her bridge club and country club than motherhood—all in the pursuit of networking, she’d insisted. At least her lack of interest in their daughter had taught him the finer arts of fatherhood. Arts he dearly missed. He hadn’t given the smell of baby powder and formula burps much thought until Dory brought memories of Megan. Talking baby gibberish, he waltzed Dory around the
room until her frantic screams dissolved into soft, hiccuping snubs.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, Jenny came around the counter to stare at him. “How’d you do that?”

  “Practice. Megan cried the entire first year of her life. Dory’s definitely teething. Heard anything from Rob?” Dave gently patted Dory’s back as her eyelids started to droop.

  “Not a thing.” Jenny returned to stirring the boiling kettle.

  “Where’s your hired help?”

  “Mrs. Wilcox is due in any moment.” She dumped sugar and corn syrup into a second kettle. “The baby’s been cranky, and I’m so behind it’s scary. Sorry I can’t take time to visit.”

  Dory was fast asleep, and he tenderly lowered her into the carrier. Outside, Jake’s howls faded to simpering whines.

  “Thank goodness,” Jenny said in response to the blissful silence.

  “You don’t like my dog, do you?”

  “About as much as you like mine.” She grinned.

  Moving quietly away from the carrier, Dave motioned toward the back room. “Should I take her back there?”

  “Would you?” She was afraid she looked so grateful he felt sorry for her. “Put her where I can see her—and be sure and wrap her blanket tightly around her little feet so they won’t get cold.”

  “It’s summer. She’ll get too hot.”

  “I don’t want her coming down with the sniffles.”

  Dave returned a moment later with a cup of coffee. Leaning against the counter, he took a sip as he watched her work. She looked cute in the oversize T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It hung loose to the bottom of her Bermuda shorts, covering the small waistline he’d admired more than once. Strands of hair fell from the ponytail to caress her neck, something he’d like to do himself. “What do you intend to say when people notice Rob and Teensy are gone, and Dory’s with you?”

  “The truth. Rob left Dory with me while he and Teensy took a few days off.”

  Dave shook his head. “You really think they’re coming back?”

  “I don’t know—I haven’t the time to worry about it right now.”

  He followed her to the front case where she slid in a pan of maple walnut. “Think you can get away for a few minutes after work?”