“How about some pancakes, Shelby?” I asked as we made our way up to the diner door.
It reminded me of the Fire and Ice Diner back home. Even the layout was similar with the cash register and door to the kitchen at the farthest end from the front door.
The only thing different was the color scheme—it was yellow and tan—and obviously, Debbie wasn’t working the tables.
“Sit wherever,” a woman called out from the back.
Looking around, I found a wooden highchair and grabbed it. After removing Shelby from her stroller and getting her situated into the highchair, I made myself comfortable in one of the yellow vinyl booths.
A woman with black hair pulled back into a bun came over, placing a menu in front of me. “What do we have here? Isn’t she the sweetest thing?”
“That’s Shelby.”
Her smile was wide, and Shelby reached a hand toward our waitress.
“Oh dear. I’ll, uh . . . give you two some more time to decide what you want before taking your order.” The woman wrinkled her nose before turning to leave.
Confused, I leaned closer to Shelby and realized why the waitress left so quickly. My niece needed to be changed.
Ugh. The one time I forget the diaper bag would be the time Shelby poops herself. I quickly searched my pockets to find my phone and realized I forgot that, too.
“It looks like we’ll have to come back, Shelby. You need to be—”
“You forgot the most important thing when you left.” Like an answer to my diaper changing prayers, Bea popped up behind Shelby.
“The diaper bag,” I said with a hopeful smile.
“No.” Bea furrowed her brow, removed her coat, and sat. “Me.”
“Oh, right.”
My shoulders sagged as I realized I still had to run back to the motel to grab the bag.
“Ew. What’s that smell? Mica, I don’t think this place is very sanitary.” Bea pinched her nose while glancing around.
“It’s Shelby.”
“Shelby’s very sanitary. Chloe said she bathed her yesterday before she left for camping.”
I shook my head. “No. Shelby needs to be changed.”
Bea’s eyes roamed Shelby up and down. “She looks adorable. I don’t see anything wrong with her outfit. If it were me, I’d add a cute, frilly hat but I’m not the type of person to enforce my style on others—”
The woman was both maddening and adorable. Despite our frustrating conversation, I smiled.
“No, Shelby’s pooped herself.” I lowered my voice and jerked my head in my niece’s direction. “Her diaper needs to be changed. That’s why I mentioned the diaper bag. I forgot it when I left the motel room.”
Bea sighed and held up a finger. “First of all, it’s an inn. The Roadacious Inn. I know the Carlfells personally and, while they’re a bit eccentric, they are good people. The chain of inns are their pride and joy. Their children being second.”
She held up another finger. “While you are correct that you left behind that cumbersome bag filled with Shelby’s toileting needs—”
“She’s not toilet trained yet.”
Bea waved me off. “Obviously. But that bag was too much. No wonder you ‘forgot’ it.” She air quoted. “It was ugly, and I don’t use that word lightly. It was too much.”
I sat back and folded my arms. “Okay, Ms. Stylist-to-the-babies. Tell me then, what should I carry Shelby’s diapers in?”
Bea smirked and held up her arm. Hanging from her wrist was a small black-and-white-striped satchel.
“I don’t understand. That looks like a large wallet with a strap. That can’t hold—”
“It’s called a wristlet and inside is . . .” She removed the bag from her wrist, zipped it open, and proceeded to show me what the tiny bag contained.
“Okay, I see you got a diaper and a small package of wipes, but do you have—”
“An extra shirt and leggings. I may not spend a lot of time with small children, but that doesn’t mean I’m not observant. And just because a person has to carry around a change of clothes and diaper supplies for a baby, doesn’t mean they need to break their back in the process. I had this bag for my makeup but felt it would be more useful to help with Shelby.”
I blinked at Bea and wondered what had changed. I noticed over the past several days she smiled at Shelby from afar. When she did ask to hold her, she made up that wild story of a photo shoot. It couldn’t have been real and was most likely said to make her look good like she was used to children.
But this was different. This wasn’t a story. Bea went out of her way to help Shelby . . . to help me.
Thoughts of that almost kiss popped back into my head. I frowned and waved her off.
“Looks good. So, go change her.”
Bea’s eyes rounded, and I stared at the corner of her mouth as it trembled. I was calling her bluff. So what if she reused a bag she already had for diapers. Bea only thought of it because the bag I had was ugly.
Just as I figured. She cared more about appearance and what she needed than about helping my family. I knew she would turn me down and make up another one of her ridiculous stories as to why she couldn’t lift a finger for my niece.
“Okay.” She clapped her hands together and turned to Shelby. “Aunt Bea’s going to help you smell pretty. I even got a special flower water spritz that’s hypoallergenic, dye-free, and vegan.”
Oh no. Bea’s about to change Shelby’s diaper. What have I done?
NINE
Bea
“Pardon me, but do you have a baby changing room?” I asked the waitress as I pushed Bea’s stroller toward the register.
“The women’s bathroom is down that hall and the first door on your left.”
Was that how I changed a baby? Did they sit on the toilet? Maybe there’s a special baby toilet I had never noticed before.
I pushed Shelby down the hall. Once I maneuvered her stroller into the bathroom, I was surprised by the size of the thing.
It was comically tiny. The stroller took up almost the entire space besides the two stalls and two sinks.
One of the stalls was taken, so I pushed Shelby into the empty one. Which, based on the railing on the wall, must be the handicapped stall.
It was a disappointment. My cousin used a wheelchair, and there’d be no way he could fit inside this to use the facilities.
It shouldn’t be impossible for anyone to use the bathroom, but the diner obviously didn’t care about that.
And where was the baby toilet? I couldn’t imagine fitting anything else in the small space.
Groaning, I turned to her. “Well, Shelby, it looks like we’ll have to make this work.”
I removed her from her stroller and brought her to the toilet.
“If I sit you on that, you’ll fall in?”
“Is she already potty trained?” A woman’s voice came from behind.
Turning with Shelby in my arms, I saw a woman standing at the doorway of the stall.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to intrude, but the door was wide open. My daughter and son didn’t start training until they were three. But the boy didn’t get fully trained until he was four.”
I blinked. What was this woman going on about?
“No, she’s not potty trained. I was specifically told she’s not potty trained. I just can’t find the baby toilet.”
The woman narrowed her eyes for a moment before throwing her head back in laughter. “Oh, you’re hilarious. Baby toilet. I’ll have to use that one with my friends.”
Then she had used one in the past.
“Can you point out where—”
She stepped behind me and pulled down something from the wall that had a picture of a koala on it. It made a curved shelf.
“It was behind you. There’s not a lot of space in here, but at least they have a baby changing station.”
Oh. So that’s what that was. I had seen them in many bathrooms throughout my life and always thought they were a ca
binet that stored extra toilet paper and paper towels.
Shelby giggled as I placed her on the shelf. It was as if she knew the whole time and just wanted to see me struggle. This one was a sneak.
I tapped the tip of her nose and smiled. “Now, I can start helping you smell beautiful once again.”
“Do you need anything? I always carry wipes around with me. My kids are in elementary school now, but they still make messes. But now it’s just with food.” The woman dug around in her black leather purse.
“No, thank you. I’ve got everything I need right here.” I held up my wrist.
Her eyes widened, and she reached for the bag as if it was made of gold.
“You’re telling me this tiny thing contains everything you need to change her?”
I nodded.
“What if she soiled her clothes—”
I removed the contents of the bag and held up the extra clothes that were inside.
“This is amazing. Where did you get that bag? My friend just had a baby, and she would really be interested in getting one.”
“I made it.”
Yes, it was a makeup bag, but I wasn’t lying when I said I made it. I went through a phase a few years ago where I hired a manufacturer to produce my own clothing and a few bags for me. The clothes fit me like a glove, but it became tedious to go to the tailor every time I wanted a pattern made. In the end, I went back to shopping in stores and sold the manufacturer to my father. He used it to make cloth bags for his grocery stores.
I turned to Shelby and began to peel back her little pink leggings. The top part was brown.
“Good thing you have that change of clothes.”
I thought that was the worst part, but when I opened the diaper, I almost threw up. The poop was everywhere.
“Oh, honey. Maybe Mica should start your potty training now.”
How did people do this without throwing up?
“I’m guessing you’re not the kid’s mom?”
I kept my hand on Shelby’s tummy while I took a step back. The stink zone was toxic, and I required a break. Just some breathing room before I passed out.
I shook my head as it was impossible to form words without vomit coming out, too.
The woman’s brows pinched together. “Have you changed a baby before?”
Again, no words. I just shook my head in response.
“Here, let me show you. I’m Neve, by the way.”
“Bea.” I nodded and stepped back.
I watched in awe. The woman not only removed Shelby’s clothes without smearing the poo everywhere but cleaned her up with ease. In less than a minute, the diaper and dirty clothing were in the trash, and Shelby smelled like Shelby again.
I even took the scent spray I had and gave the little girl a spritz. She sneezed and then giggled.
“I don’t think you should spray perfume on a small child like that,” the woman said as she maneuvered past the stroller to the sink to wash her hands.
“It’s specifically formulated so anyone can wear it. It’s free of dyes or chemicals. I’m sure the soap that washed Shelby’s clothes has more abrasive chemicals than this.” I held up the simple rectangular glass bottle.
“Do you have a website or a card? I know a lot of moms and a few dads who would love that stuff. Is this your business?” She waved at my diaper bag and spritz.
It was all something I did for fun. Made things. The bag, the fragrance, and my baskets. I enjoyed creating things that made me happy and brought smiles to others. But it wasn’t my goal in life, so it was only ever a hobby.
I placed Shelby back in her stroller and went to the sink to wash my hands.
“No, it’s not my business. I work at Love Foods. I’m the head of marketing. I’m Bea Love.” I shook the woman’s hand after drying mine with a paper towel.
“Oh.” She frowned. “That’s too bad because I like the baby stuff you have. It’s sleek and simple and works. The stuff in the stores all look the same and are so bulky.”
I nodded. “Right. That’s why I refuse to use it.”
“Even your name is perfect. I’m not a marketing person but the name Bea Love is perfect for branding.” She sighed. “It was nice to meet you and your adorable little, uh . . . is she your niece?”
I glanced down at Shelby. It was a strange feeling to be associated with a child. That people assumed I was related to her. Which made sense, but no one had ever looked at me in that caretaker way before.
It was different but nice.
“Just a friend of her uncle’s.”
We said our goodbyes, and I managed to get the stroller out the door with only banging the wheel in the doorway three times.
“You two made it back.”
There was food on the table when we arrived. Hash browns, scrambled eggs, and a side of fruit in front of Mica, and a plate of pancakes. On the other side of the table was a salad and another bowl of fruit.
He started to get up, but I waved him off. “I got this.” I unbuckled Shelby and placed her in the highchair. Mica took the pancakes and broke them into small pieces, placing the plate in front of Shelby. She immediately started to eat.
Mica sniffed the air. “It smells like you were successful.”
He didn’t think I could do it. He was right, but I wasn’t about to let him know that.
“I figured it out.” My eyes slid around the room and I was thankful I couldn’t find the lady from the restroom. Perhaps she left, which was a good thing. Then she couldn’t come over and explain what really happened in the bathroom.
Mica nodded and looked impressed.
“I may be naïve when it comes to children, but I’m not incapable of figuring things out, which I can’t say about you.”
His eyes widened. “What did I do?”
“A salad? Really? Why, because I’m a woman?”
It’s a move my dad would make. Not to say I didn’t like salads. I did, but the point was he didn’t know that. He assumed that a woman in a restaurant would only want salad.
Mica sat back and folded his arms. “Please, tell me more about how I’m making assumptions about you.”
Fine, he wanted me to let it out. I would be happy to oblige.
“First, you assume because I’m from the city that all I wanted was to come to a small town to take advantage of someone from a small town.” I thinned my lips. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
His eyes slid to his plate as he shrugged. “Maybe, at first. But look how you were dressed. Those heels were lethal weapons.”
I shook my head and mumbled, “Olivia told me about the outfit. I hate it when she’s right.”
“What?”
“Nothing. But I was right. You did judge me based on my appearance. I never once thought I could take advantage of you or your sister. Nor had I said one negative thing about your appearance or your home or anything.”
“You called it homey.”
I nodded. “Yes, because it is. It’s cozy.”
“It’s two thousand square feet. It’s not small.”
“I grew up in a mansion in Washington, DC. Just about any home I walk into is cozy. I’m not going to lie and pretend that I’m something I’m not just to impress you. I’m wealthy and spoiled, but I’m not a brat. A brat expects the world to fall into their lap just because they want it. I had to work hard to get where I am. Just as I had to work hard to get you to accept my offer of selling your coffee.”
He snorted. “You said you grew up in a mansion and worked at your father’s company.” He waved his hands around with a frown. “Did Daddy give you the hard projects to work on?”
I gritted my teeth, and for a moment, I thought my eyes would shoot out fire, burning him alive.
“You have no idea how hard I work or how I started to work at my father’s company. You don’t know anything about me or him. What? You think money solves all problems?”
“Pretty much.” He lifted his arms and slid his hands behind his head. Mica looked hot, relaxe
d, and totally confident. All I wanted to do was smack that smile off his face while I climbed on top and grinded against him.
I got up, grabbing a few pieces of the fruit before picking up my coat from the booth seat. “If that’s so, Mica, then why do you try so hard to not make money?”
His smile faded, as did his arms. He sat there, staring at Shelby.
“Just as I thought. You can’t answer. Because you know that money rarely solves the problems that truly matter. That money can cause so many more problems you lose count.”
TEN
Mica
“I just saw a sign for a restaurant—”
“No.” I cut off Bea as I gripped the steering wheel tightly in my hands.
It was the day after the tire blew, and we were finally back on the road. We were so close to our destination; I could almost taste the large check. It would either be a large check or Bea apologizing to me for not getting the contract.
I was fine with either because I had come up with a plan.
“But I’m hungry, and I am sure Shelby needs to eat something—”
“Using Shelby to get to me. It’s not going to work. I come prepared.” I reached into the plastic bag between us that contained the Cheerios I had purchased at the gas station back in Maryland. “She can snack on that.” I smirked. “Besides, we should be at the resort by two, so we can get lunch then.”
Bea seized the box from my hand. I didn’t have to look; I knew there was anger in her grasp.
Bea was a woman used to having her needs satisfied when they arose. She needed to learn that patience was needed.
“Fine, but I’m having a few of the Cheerios,” she mumbled, a few pieces of cereal already in her mouth. My eyes kept sliding to her lips as she moaned in satisfaction.
I shook my head to snap out of it, and I rubbed my neck at the sudden pain.
Last night at the motel was terrible. I could tell Bea was still angry with me from my jokes about her after the diaper change. I wasn’t about to lie to her. It surprised me she figured out how to change Shelby and did a good job. I had expected her to come out crying with poop smears on her top.
Lost and Found (books 1-3): Small-Town Romantic Comedy Page 51