Baby Love Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  “Jesse?” I asked, “Who's that?”

  “Only the best freaking divorce lawyer in Atlanta, girlfriend. I’m so glad the Hot Nazi turned me on to him; pretty sweet on the eyes, too.”

  “Gina,” I warned, “Don’t rush into anything. You’re vulnerable right now, remember? What’s Ian doing these days?”

  “Who gives a fuck!” she screeched. “I don’t give a damn! I hear he’s moved in with Shelly; what-the-fuck-ever!”

  She was still hurt, as she'd every right to be. I was glad when she changed the subject. “How are things going with you?” she asked.

  “Things have become much, much better,” I answered honestly. "I just don’t ever want Susan to leave.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me,” she said. “I’d have murdered Ian’s mom by now. She was such a bloody control freak.”

  “It’s just not like that with Susan,” I replied. “She's almost like a mother to me. I don’t know how I'd have done it these past few weeks without her. Do you know our new home will be ready soon?"

  "No shit? When?"

  "Right after the new year."

  "I can hardly wait to see it!"

  "When are you coming back home?” I asked her.

  “Soon, I promise. This is just one of those times I need my mother, you know?”

  Actually, I didn’t. I was unfamiliar as to how that might feel. I hoped when the day came for Preston that I was a mother she could come to for healing after heartbreak. Of course, I'd much prefer that no one would ever break her heart. Trey would likely go ballistic and kill the responsible party if that ever happened.

  “But hey, I also need my very best friend, too and I miss her,” Gina said bringing me back to the conversation.

  I smiled into the phone telling her we'd talk soon. I pulled my car into the parking lot of Edgewood Convalescence Center. Jean had been moved over to Edgewood from the hospital about a week ago. She was here for rehabilitation. Thankfully, she'd regained consciousness with no permanent brain damage. She was at Edgewood for physical therapy for the next two months.

  Jean brightened as I entered her room. She was sitting up in a chair, looking at a magazine that I'd brought her a few days before, when I'd visited.

  “Tylar,” she greeted me with a smile, “you're a welcome site today. How's my little one doing?”

  “She's heavier than two sacks of potatoes,” I laughed. “You better be working double time with your physical therapist if you expect to be able to lift her when you get out.”

  “I think my therapist might have been a Nazi in his previous life,” she moaned. “No worries, Tylar, he won’t let me be a slacker that's for sure.”

  Trey and I'd discussed having Jean as live-in help once we moved into our new large home. I hadn’t said anything to Jean just yet as I wanted to see how she progressed with her therapy. There would be a lot of stops and high ceilings to contend with in our new home. I started back at the firm the following week to fill in for Leah until just before Christmas. Susan would be watching Preston while I worked, for as long as Trey and I needed her.

  “Is Grandma being good to little Preston?” Jean asked.

  “Spoiling her rotten,” I laughed.

  “Can’t spoil a baby, Tylar,” Jean replied. “You can spoil your appetite or spoil a surprise, but you just can’t spoil a baby.”

  “If you say so, Jean,” I said, smiling at her. We chatted a little while longer and then her ‘born again Nazi’ came into her room to take her down for her hydrotherapy, which I could only guess, involved water.

  That evening at dinner, Susan announced that she was needed back in Bristol in two weeks. Clive was to undergo by-pass surgery and she'd need to be there to help him during recovery. Trey and I both dropped our forks at her announcement.

  “Mom,” Trey said, clearly startled, “What the hell happened? Why am I just finding out about this?”

  “Because I just found out about it this afternoon. It seems your father chose to keep me out of the loop until he knew with certainty what the official diagnosis and treatment option was to be. I was just as clueless.”

  “Did he have a heart attack?” I asked stunned by the news.

  “No, no - nothing like that thankfully,” she replied. “He's just been feeling tired over the past couple of months and lacked his usual energy. He didn’t want to worry anyone so he went to his doctor who then referred him to a cardiologist. He has some blockage which can be surgically corrected with a bypass. He claims it's routine.”

  I didn’t say anything, but it seemed to me that anytime there was a problem with someone’s ticker that needed fixing, it hardly seemed routine.

  “Tylar,” Susan said glancing over at me, “I intend to stay and help you find someone to watch Preston after I leave. I took the liberty of calling a couple of agencies today. They'll be sending a few candidates over this week yet. I know you start back working on Monday but if you trust me to do the interviewing . . .”

  “Whoa, whoa,” I interrupted, causing Trey to look over at me quickly. “As far as I'm concerned Susan, your place is with Clive. I don’t want you worrying yourself one little bit about Preston. I'll be here to take care of her and that’s that.”

  “What about going back to the firm?” Susan asked.

  “As far as I’m concerned, the firm can call an agency to get temporary help. I need to stay here with Preston since you need to be with Clive.”

  “Tylar,” Trey interrupted softly, “you and I'll discuss this later.”

  He turned his attention back to his mother, pummeling her with questions about Clive in attorney-style. He wanted to make sure that there was nothing being held back about his father’s condition. I got that. But if he thought for one second I was going to leave my baby to the care of someone other than family right now, he was sorely mistaken. As we readied ourselves for bed that evening, Trey pulled me down beside him on the bed.

  “Tylar, I know that you have some trepidation about hiring someone to watch the baby after Mom leaves, but please, hear me out.”

  I looked over at him as he raked his hand absently through his hair and sighed.

  “The thing is our lives have improved so much because of the treatment you've been getting for your PPD; the fact that Mom's been here makes it difficult to know if she's been part of the cure I guess. I need to know that you're okay, no matter what. Do you understand?”

  I wasn’t sure that I did understand. “I’m not sure,” I answered honestly.

  He took my hand in his massaging it gently, raising it to his face and brushing his lips against it. “I mean I need to know that you've shed the fear and anxiety of being away from the baby when it's not me or Mom watching her; that your paranoia's gone,” he said simply. “You’re right; the firm could easily call an agency and get a temp in to train to cover for Leah. That's really not the point, though.”

  “What is the point?” I asked studying his face.

  “The point's to know that you can function in a world where your security and peace of mind cannot always be guaranteed, I guess. I need to know that if something happened to me, that you would be okay to go on. I need to know that you can face any fears, real or imagined with something other than withdrawal and escape.”

  It was in that moment, that I got it. Trey was right. I'd changed after the baby was born. I wasn't the girl that had set out on her own to make a nest for her baby, asking for no one’s help. I wasn't the same girl who had defied Trey’s orders and set about to win a feature race setting the best time in the series on a long-shot quarter horse named Jezebel. I wasn't the same girl who had kicked the be-Jesus out of Charlie at the age of thirteen, and then again at the age of twenty-one when he attempted to rape me.

  I recalled a conversation that I'd had the previous year with Mark. He'd told me something to the effect that a man doesn’t necessarily want a woman to change into something that she wasn't; even though it might mean a rocky road at times for them it would still b
e a road well-traveled together. Right now, Trey needed the assurance that I was still that girl.

  “Trey,” I said softly, “I can’t say with absolute certainty that I won’t worry about Preston when she's out of my sight but I can say that I'll do this thing for you because I know that it's important and I understand why it's important to you.”

  "That's why I love you," he said softly, pulling me against him.

  CHAPTER 9

  I was dressed in my new black suit peering at myself in the full-size mirror in Trey’s closet. I'd purchased new heels to go with it. I had dark nylon thigh-high stockings on with my three-inch pumps. I perched my leg up on the foot stool in the dressing room to smooth the nylons up, readjusting the lacey band at the top of my thigh. Trey came out of the bathroom having skipped his morning ritual of getting up earlier and going to the gym and showering and dressing there. He stopped short when he saw me; a slow grin crossed his face.

  “Baby, you look awesome,” he said, closing the distance between us. I smiled up at him as he closed in on me, grazing my thigh with his fingertips, pulling me up against him firmly. I blushed, thinking about what had transpired the previous night. Trey and I'd been making love every night for the past several; last night had been especially delicious.

  He lowered his head to mine, his lips kissing mine warmly and seductively. He moaned reflecting my sentiments exactly. I yearned for him to be inside of me once again, remembering how hot it had been the previous night. I'd worried that Susan might have heard our lovemaking being that we were a bit louder than usual.

  “I love you, baby,” he said softly. “How about helping me with my tie?”

  “Certainly, Mr. Sinclair,” I answered in a coquettish manner, reaching out to start tying his tie. Trey smiled down at me, thoroughly happy that I was returning to the workforce, if only for a few weeks. I finished his tie, brushing some lint off of his suit jacket, totally mesmerized at his awesome build and great looks.

  “You look great, honey,” I breathed, raising my face back up to meet his warm lips one more time before we headed out of our suite. I could hear Susan in the kitchen and the smell of freshly brewed coffee greeted us as we entered the living room.

  Preston was in her mesh baby playpen already dressed in her pink bib overalls with a white cotton turtleneck underneath. Susan had pulled the baby’s hair up into a thin wispy ponytail on top of her head.

  She looked like a non-cartoon version of Pebbles Flintstone with that cute little sprout of hair. She was sitting up chewing on a rubber rattle when she saw us. She was teething and had taken to chewing on everything it seemed. Preston squealed in delight at seeing Trey and I enter the room. He went over to the playpen where she was now holding her little arms up so that he'd lift her up. He didn’t hesitate in doing so, holding her close and kissing her forehead.

  “Hey, Chubbers,” he greeted her with a smile showing his dimple. She quickly returned the favor presenting her dimple to him. She was still clutching her rubber rattle and offered it to her daddy.

  “I don’t want that,” he teased. “It’s got Preston-slobber all over it. Yucky!” She giggled with delight as he continued talking to her as we entered the kitchen. Susan had made coffee and poured juice for both of us. She was at the stove scrambling up some eggs with cheese the way Trey liked them.

  “Good morning,” she greeted us smiling. “Now, the both of you look so handsome. Tylar, that suit was such a good choice, honey. I’m glad you selected that one instead of the grey one. I just think the grey one hid too much of your youthful build.”

  Trey chuckled gazing at my legs appreciatively and the outline of my butt beneath the black skirt. It was Chanel but I appeased myself with the fact that it was a basic black suit with classic lines that could be worn for a few years.

  “Thank you, Susan. I’m glad you talked me into this one, as well. Has Preston had a bottle yet?”

  “She was up with the chickens this morning. Grandma fed her around 6:30. She has plenty of bottles left for the day if you’re worried,” she said. Susan placed Trey’s breakfast plate in front of him. I reached over, taking the baby from him so that he could eat.

  “I’m going to nurse her for just a few minutes, Susan, why don’t you go ahead and sit down and eat with Trey?”

  “Okay, honey,” she said. “I’ll keep your plate warm.”

  I took Preston into the living room, unbuttoning my jacket and pulling the silk camisole down to allow her access. She dropped the rubber rattle to the floor and latched onto my nipple before I'd even sat down on the couch. I positioned her comfortably in the crook of my arm so I could watch her while she nursed. She locked her blue eyes on my face and watched me intently as she nursed. I traced a finger along her soft cheek getting a smile from her.

  “Mommy's going to miss you today, sweet girl,” I said softly to her. “Grandma will take very good care of you, okay? Daddy and Mommy will be home later and we'll all play together before bedtime. Just like last night, okay sweet baby? Mommy loves you more than anything, Preston.”

  She grinned up at me then returned to her gentle sucking. I loved her so much. She'd be five months old in less than a week. Susan had been with us for nearly six weeks. That must've been difficult for both her and Clive. I'd hate to be apart from Trey that long.

  A lot of changes had taken place in the past six weeks. I'd put further counseling sessions on hold with Karla since I was starting back to work. All in all, Karla was pleased with our sessions and the marked improvement in my emotional health.

  Trey joined us a few minutes later, reaching down to take the baby so that I could eat breakfast. She released my nipple reluctantly. I kissed her cheek and buttoned myself back up. Trey distracted her from fussing about the interruption by getting some of her other toys from the playpen and having her reach for them while she sat on his lap.

  Susan was cleaning up their breakfast dishes and updated me on two candidates that were coming by for an interview today. We'd seen three candidates the previous week from the agency that for one reason or another hadn't panned out. The agency was sending more candidates this week and we were hopeful they'd have more applicable skill sets.

  The first candidate was scheduled for 10:30 a.m. and the second one was scheduled for 3:00 p.m. this afternoon. We'd decided that since I was returning to work this week, Susan would do the initial interview screening at two a day for a total of eight candidates. She'd then narrow it down to three candidates for Trey and I to interview on Saturday. She was leaving Sunday to return to Bristol.

  “Do you want me to call you on your lunch hour to let you know about the first interview this morning, Tylar?”

  “That'd be great, Susan.”

  “The first interview is with a young girl named Julie who came recommended by the family in the apartment on the second floor. I met her when I was getting the mail.”

  “Yes, I remember you saying that,” I replied. “Who's the second applicant?"

  “That’s the retired nurse. Let’s see, I have her resume here on the counter somewhere. Her name is Sheila Bradley. Listen to this - she worked more than twenty years as a nurse in obstetrics for North Bay hospital. She's retired and misses working around babies that sounds promising.”

  I recalled reading through the resumes and seeing the one for Sheila Bradley. It'd struck me odd why she would've retired if she now missed working around babies enough to want a job as a babysitter. Nurses could always go back on the circuit, I'd have thought.

  “Anyway, I have the list of questions that you and Trey put together along with some of my own,” Susan continued. “We'll make this a very thorough process, I guarantee you.”

  “I’m still going to miss you, Mom,” I replied, looking up at her.

  Her eyes teared up a bit as she came over and put her hands on my shoulders patting them. “I know, sweet girl, I'll miss you, too. It won’t be for long though. We expect you, Trey and the baby for Thanksgiving. Clive will be totally mended b
y then.”

  Thanksgiving was only eight weeks away. It was hard to believe all that had happened since last Thanksgiving. I was only working for the next six weeks, so I'd have a couple of weeks as a breather before we started preparations for the holidays. It'd be Preston’s first Christmas. Trey and I were excited about that. I knew Trey was worried about his dad. We'd assured Susan that we'd fly to Bristol if she needed us there. She was adamant that everything would be fine.

  My first work day back at the firm was spent getting updated on everything that Leah had going over in Mr. Harmon’s area. We reviewed the current caseload, statuses, court calendar, deposition schedule and meeting notices. By lunch time, it seemed as if I hadn’t been gone for any length of time at all.

  I was eating lunch in the break room when my Cell phone vibrated. It was Susan. She told me that everything had gone quite well with Julie’s interview. She'd taken detailed notes of Julie’s answers to the questions. Susan said she'd also made sure to observe the interaction between Julie and the baby. She'd been impressed with Julie and definitely felt like she'd make a finalist for this position.

  We talked for a little bit longer. I asked how Preston was doing and Susan said she was napping now but due to wake up soon. Susan wanted to make sure she was awake when Nurse Bradley got there for her interview this afternoon. I told her Trey and I'd try and make it home by five-thirty.

  The afternoon sped by as Leah and I continued to put together an activity calendar covering important dates on Harmon’s cases to ensure nothing slipped through the cracks. I was entering the data into the database calendar which would also tie into whatever filings needed to be filed by statutory guidelines. I came across a Motion for Oral Argument that was coded as ‘MDL-JPML’. It was scheduled in a few weeks at the 5th Circuit Court in Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

  “What does this mean, Leah?” I asked, showing her the printout.

  “MDL,” she said, looking over my shoulder. “That’s multidistrict litigation. That’s actually one of Harmon’s and Sinclair’s class action cases under mass torts. You remember that case that was going on when you had the baby?”