Make Room for Baby

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  “Instead—” Abby stopped pacing and perched on the corner of his desk “—Tim tried to bury the incident and now may go out of business as a result.”

  Tad lifted his eyes to hers. “While I can’t fathom his shortsightedness, I do sympathize with him. I know what it’s like to follow your dream.” He knew what it was like to want something—someone—so much that nothing else mattered.

  Abby raked her teeth across her lower lip. Her eyes lifted to his, held. “Word on the street is that Tim has enough capital to keep going until Thanksgiving. That still gives him time to change his mind and take you up on your offer.”

  Tad nodded. He could only hope Tim Grau came to his senses and did so.

  “Meantime—” Abby sighed deeply “—we have our own problems to solve.” She picked up the computer printout of figures from Tad’s desk. She frowned as she studied the bottom line. “Like how we’re going to replace the lost revenue.”

  Confronted by the aggravated longtime customers and the sudden loss of advertising revenue, he’d been thinking about that all day. “One way to go would be to cut back.”

  “But you don’t want to do that,” Abby guessed.

  “No.” Tad lowered his feet to the floor. He stood and now it was his turn to pace. “I want to expand the paper as rapidly as possible and try to pick up the slack with additional sales and subscribers.”

  Abby regarded him thoughtfully. “It might work.”

  Tad stared at the fast-running river of water moving along the curb to the storm drain. “Unfortunately for the two of us that’s going to mean things are going to be tight.” He turned away from the sight of the rain splattering the top of his Jeep and leaned against the glass. “I pay myself a percentage of the profits, and for the month of August, at any rate, there are none.”

  Abby smiled at him reassuringly. “I can live on a shoestring. Underwriting the costs of the white-elephant redecoration are another matter entirely, however. We’ve promised the readers a room every other week.”

  “And I’d like to up that to once a week,” Tad said, thinking a move like that would boost readership more than ever. He rubbed his jaw. “The question is, where are we going to get the money?”

  Abby’s eyes lit up as she crossed to his side and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “Why don’t you leave that to me?”

  “IT’S ALL SET,” Abby told Tad early the following afternoon as Sonny went out on assignment and Raymond went to the rear of the building to work on a minor printing-press problem that had just cropped up. “I got a list of craftsmen from Donna. They’ve all agreed to do the rest of the work on the house for free in exchange for in-depth interviews by me on how they work and learned their trades and so on. It’s sort of a barter thing. We give them free publicity that will hopefully generate a lot more business for them, and they do a great job for us. Sonny is going to do the photo essays. So we’re going to need a lot more space to fit all this in, because now we’ll be focusing on donated materials, expertise and labor for every room.”

  Tad cast her an admiring glance. “Maybe we should make this a regular series even after we finish the white elephant,” he suggested. “Perhaps even raffle off chances to have a kitchen face-lift or master-bedroom redecoration.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Cindy said, setting a big paper bag on the counter.

  Tad looked at the UNC grad. She’d just come from a run to Audrey’s Bakery and Café down the street. “How are we doing with the classifieds?”

  Cindy shrugged off her rain slicker, hung it on a hook by the door and returned to lift containers of milk, café lattes, a variety of sandwiches and freshly baked banana-nut muffins from the bag.

  “I wanted to talk to you about that. I think we could do better if we lowered the cost of the ads by at least ten percent and started an aggressive campaign to get people to advertise using copy like this.” As everyone picked up their snack orders, Cindy dashed to the ad counter. She returned swiftly, handing Tad and Abby two cartoon ads urging people to buy space in the newspaper.

  “These are cute,” Abby said.

  “Definitely eye-catching,” Tad agreed, as he took the top off his café latte. He sat back in his chair. “How big did you want to make the ads?”

  Cindy regarded him hopefully. “Don’t shoot me, but half a page at the beginning and end of each advertising section. I also thought we could put copies of the ads up on bulletin boards around town.”

  “Okay. Give it a try,” Tad said with a smile, just as a rain-drenched Sadie burst through the door.

  Tad had only to look at his aunt to know something was up. “What’s happened?” He got immediately to his feet.

  Sadie clapped a hand over her heart. “Buster ran away!”

  “What?” Abby and Tad both rushed to the older woman’s side.

  Sadie removed her dripping rain hat and reported breathlessly, “I went home for lunch to walk him—you know how he hates to go out in the rain—and he wasn’t there. I looked everywhere.”

  “Meaning what?” Abby asked.

  “He went out his doggie door and dug a hole beneath the fence.”

  “Buster?” Tad asked, amazed. He had never known Aunt Sadie’s mournful-looking bassett hound to do anything anywhere near that energetic or mischievous.

  “I know.” A red-faced Sadie threw up her hands. “I couldn’t believe it, either.” She began to tear up. “Tad, I don’t know what I’m going to do...”

  “Sit tight, Aunt Sadie.” Tad enveloped his diminutive aunt in a hug. “He probably hasn’t gone far. I’ll find him.”

  “I’ll help.”

  Tad looked at Abby. She knew exactly what he was going to say. “I’m pregnant, not water soluble. Besides, it’ll do me good to get out of the office. You can drive and I’ll look out the window.”

  “Bless you both,” Sadie said, dabbing at her eyes.

  “They’ll find him, Sadie,” Cindy said, patting her arm.

  Tad and Abby grabbed their raincoats and took off. He carried the umbrella as they hurried out to the Jeep. Tad shook his head. “What a day to run away.”

  “The question is why,” Abby said as she climbed into the passenger side. “Buster hates rain.”

  They found out soon enough—almost a mile away. Buster had a girlfriend. A cute little cocker spaniel. The two were cuddling beneath the front porch. They were also covered with mud and wet as could be. Abby and Tad groaned in unison as they contemplated how best to remove the lovesick canines.

  “This ought to be fun,” Abby said.

  “Who lives here, anyway?” Tad asked.

  “I don’t know.” Abby bit her lip. “We’d better ring the bell.”

  Unfortunately there was no answer at the door.

  A neighbor, pulling into the driveway next door, stopped to roll down her car window. She cupped a hand around her mouth and shouted to be heard over the rain and her car.

  “Problem?” the neighbor shouted, nodding at the two dogs, who looked very unwilling to come out from the bed they’d made under the front porch.

  Tad nodded.

  “Unfortunately Raymond’s not home. He works at the paper during the day.”

  “WELL, THE GOOD NEWS is,” Tad told Aunt Sadie via cell phone from the front porch, “we found Buster.” Briefly he went on to explain. “The bad news is I think it’s going to take both you and Raymond to coax the dogs out from under there.”

  Short minutes later Sadie and Raymond arrived. “Belle’s in heat,” Raymond told Abby and Tad.

  “Oh, dear,” Abby murmured.

  “And Buster can still be a papa,” Sadie explained.

  “Make that double dear,” Abby—who’d never more acutely appreciated the miracle of life than she did since she’d been pregnant herself—teased. Wouldn’t it be fun, she thought, if Belle and Buster had puppies?

  “The question is, how did they find each other?” Tad knelt down in the mud and helped pull a mud-caked Buster out “They weren’t exact
ly living on the same block.”

  Sadie and Raymond exchanged looks and colored deeply.

  “Okay,” Tad prodded, “what am I missing here?”

  “They’ve, uh, met before,” Sadie told Tad and Abby reluctantly.

  “We got them together,” Raymond explained a little less self-consciously. “Took them both to the park last week just before Belle went into heat.”

  Sadie’s color deepened even more. “We just never thought they’d try to get together on their own!” she exclaimed.

  “A little romance going on here, hmm?” Tad asked as he wrapped a drenched and muddy Buster in the towel Raymond provided and prepared to carry the mournful-looking bassett hound to his Jeep.

  And not with just the lovesick pups, Abby thought as she studied the heightened color in both Sadie and Raymond’s faces. She’d thought they were getting a little chummy at the newspaper! How nice for Tad’s aunt. Maybe, Abby thought optimistically, Raymond would be the one for Sadie, and vice versa. “Well, the puppies—if there are any—will certainly be unique,” she said cheerfully. “I wonder what they’ll look like, given they’ll be a bassett hound-cocker spaniel mix.”

  In unison everyone imagined it. And everyone groaned.

  “I WAS GOING to ask you how things were going,” Yvonne said from the doorway of the Blossom Weekly News an hour later. “But maybe this isn’t the time.”

  Abby checked the impulse to hug her old friend and let a grin suffice, instead. She waved a hand down the length of her, then cast a look at her husband, who looked just as bad, if not worse. “We’re a little muddy, huh?”

  “And then some.” Yvonne took off her trendy black silk raincoat and hung it up “What happened. Did you get caught in a mud slide?”

  “My aunt’s dog was lost. So we tracked him down...” Tad began.

  “And then had to coax him in out of the rain and mud and give him a bath for Sadie,” Abby explained.

  “Which Buster absolutely did not appreciated,” Tad continued.

  “Finishing each other’s sentences. I like that,” Yvonne teased.

  “What brings you to Blossom?” Abby asked, ignoring Yvonne’s comment.

  “I was en route home from a job interview in California and thought, what the heck, why not take a little detour and see how you were doing? That was, of course, before I knew it was raining here. Sheesh.” Yvonne shook the dampness out of her coiffed flame red hair.

  Abby smiled at her friend. “August is hurricane season around here. Even this far inland, we get some ferocious storms off the coast.”

  Tad looked at Yvonne and said, “Abby and I were about to close up here, go home and get cleaned up, then fix some dinner. Want to join us?”

  “Actually,” Yvonne said, “I’m looking for a place to spend the night first. Any recommendations?”

  Abby looked at Tad and knew they were in sync. “Just one. With us,” Abby said. “’Cause, girlfriend, I’ve really missed you.”

  Yvonne’s eyes glittered warmly. “Ditto.”

  An hour later Abby had showered, put on a pair of maternity jeans and a long tunic top and gone down to the kitchen where Yvonne was seated, chatting away with a still-muddy Tad. He looked at Abby. “My turn?”

  She nodded, aware of how easy and comfortable they’d become with each other, how very much a couple. It went a lot deeper than just finishing each other’s sentences or making love. “Any thoughts on dinner?”

  “Well—” Tad took a deep breath and looked out at the rain still coming down in sheets “—I don’t think we should use the barbecue.”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

  “You ladies decide,” Tad said affably. “When I come back down, let me know what I can do.”

  As soon as he was out of earshot, Yvonne asked, “Can he cook?”

  “You mean something besides beans and franks out of a can?” Abby said. “No. But he’s great at pitching in with the dishes.”

  Yvonne studied her. “I can’t believe you. You look so...”

  “Pregnant?” Abby patted her belly.

  “Domestic.” Yvonne smiled.

  “So how are the job interviews going?” Abby asked, changing the subject smoothly.

  Yvonne made a face. “So-so. This was my third interview, but sad to say I don’t think it’s a good match. Plus, I’d much rather continue to live in New York than have to move across the country. So... onward and upward.”

  “How are you doing financially?”

  Yvonne sighed and toyed with the glass of wine Tad had poured for her. “Not bad. The main thing is the lack of work. It’s driving me a little batty.” At age forty-two and with a history of being married to her career, Yvonne would be lost, Abby knew, without an office to go to every day.

  “Have you been able to pick up any freelance assignments?” Abby asked.

  Yvonne sighed. “Not enough to keep me busy more than a day or so every couple of weeks. It’s a tight job market out there. I think there are far too many people like me who’ve been either downsized or merger-ed right out of a job they love.”

  “Then you’ve come to the right place,” Tad said from the doorway. He’d changed into a clean pair of khaki pants and a loose knit shirt. His black hair was still wet and scented with shampoo, his closely shaven jaw with aftershave. He walked closer. “Because Abby and I have been talking about expanding the Blossom Weekly News.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Yvonne plastered a hand across her heart. “Me? Work at a small-town paper?”

  Undaunted by Yvonne’s not-in-this-lifetime look, Tad grinned. “That’s what Abby said.” He turned a chair around and straddled it. “Now she’s almost busier than I am trying to turn the paper around.” His expression sobered. “I’m familiar with your work.” He ticked off several series Yvonne had helmed, surprising both Abby and Yvonne with the depth of his knowledge and admiration for her work. “We could use your expertise as a features editor. Think of it this way. It won’t pay much, but it’ll be an interesting whimsical addition to your résumé while you’re waiting for the perfect job to come along.”

  Yvonne paused, intrigued by Tad’s pitch despite herself. “I admit, after looking at how few feature articles there are in the samples of the paper Abby mailed me, that I’m tempted to show you how things should be done in that area. But alas, I have no place to stay.”

  Tad shrugged his broad shoulders and rested his chin on his fist. “We’ve got plenty of room.”

  “It would be nice, having my old friend around,” Abby added persuasively.

  “All right,” Yvonne answered, no match for Abby and Tad’s combined argument. She smiled, promising, “I’ll hang around for a day or two and advise you—in exchange for the room and board and whatever token salary you can afford to pay. Just understand that if I get a decent job offer or another interview, I’ll be out of here, pronto.”

  RAIN WAS STILL POUNDING on the eaves when Abby and Tad retired to their bedroom later that evening. The sound was cozy and welcoming. Tad couldn’t wait to climb into bed and snuggle with his wife.

  As he stripped down to his boxers, Tad told Abby honestly, “I invited Yvonne to stay with us, because I figured you might want the company of an old friend while you’re making new friends.” He climbed into bed beside her, switched off the light and rolled to face her. “Was I wrong?”

  “No.” Abby turned toward him, and propped herself up on her elbow. “You weren’t wrong,” she said softly, reaching out to caress the warm solidness of his chest. “I’ve missed Yvonne and all my old friends at the magazine. But life here is exciting, too,” she teased. “I mean, who can beat crawling beneath a porch in the rain and mud to pull out two lovesick pups?”

  Tad linked hands with her, then brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss into her palm. “That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?”

  Abby grinned, loving the coziness of the mattress beneath her and the hard male body cuddled next to hers. “For the record, you
looked really cute with a smudge of mud across the bridge of your nose.”

  “Yeah, well,” Tad teased right back, kissing her cheek as he curled his arms around her, “you had some in your hair.”

  “And you,” Abby said, moving even closer, tenderly caressing the underside of his jaw, “had some right here.”

  Her fingers playing across his skin were more than he could bear. He tightened his arms around her and trapped her against him until she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal pressing her thighs. “You’re very beautiful. You know that, don’t you?” he said huskily, looking deep into her eyes.

  Beneath the thin fabric of her lacy gown, her nipples had tightened into aching buds of arousal. “I feel beautiful when I’m with you,” she confessed breathlessly, her heart filled with the wonder and the magic they’d found—and would always find—in their lovemaking.

  His eyes held hers with the promise of limitless nights to come. And then he kissed her until her breath came in quick shallow spurts and he was taking off her gown, rubbing the tender crests with his thumbs and stroking her dewy softness, moving up, in. She surrendered against him helplessly, with a low urgent moan. “Tad...”

  “I know.” Tad smiled with thoroughly male satisfaction as she pulled off his boxers, rapaciously explored the hot hard length of him, then sat astride him and lovingly drew him inside. The gliding sensation of wet hot silk was more than he could bear. “Abby,” he murmured between kisses. “What you’re doing to me—”

  He groaned again as she slipped free, replaced her body with the softness of her lips and the light gliding touch of her tongue.

  He urged her up and over him. “Now,” she whispered.

  “Now,” he said as her breasts brushed his chest.

  He plunged inside her, kissing even as they touched and took. Together they learned anew what it was like to be with someone heart and soul. They learned what it was like to need. And take. And give. Until at last their control faltered and they soared higher than either of them ever thought they could go. When the inevitable climax came, they shuddered and clung, appreciating the moment for the wonderful precious tempestuous time it was.