The Diaper Diaries

by Abby Gaines

  Silas had told people about her? She darted a glance at him. He was looking at her with mingled amusement and…surely not disappointment?

  She took his hand in hers, and stepped forward to kiss him, right there in front of Charlie. There, that should prove…whatever it was that needed proving.

  Silas smiled so tenderly it made her want to cry. Then he leaned down and his lips skimmed her ear.

  “I love you, Olivia,” he murmured.

  He straightened again. “Before you answer that,” he said, so calmly that if she hadn’t seen that blaze of emotion in his eyes, she’d have thought she’d imagined those words, “we need to talk.”

  “You two look far too cozy compared with all us married folks,” Charlie complained. “I insist you dance with me, Olivia.”

  Before she had a chance to tell Silas she loved him back, Charlie tugged her onto the dance floor. She threw Silas a beseeching look over her shoulder, but he just smiled his usual imperturbable smile.

  She didn’t see him again for half an hour, by which time he was talking to Mary-Jane Dayton. Olivia loved that Silas was the kind of man who’d never give her any reason to be jealous when he spoke to another woman. Then she realized he looked upset.

  She hurried over to him. “Hello, sweetheart.” Concerned by his pallor, she laced her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand, but the gaze he turned on her was troubled.

  “I just heard that you and Silas are together,” Mary-Jane said.

  Olivia nodded.

  “Silas’s wife was my best friend.”

  Olivia hadn’t thought about the fact that if Silas knew some of her friends, his late wife, Anna, would have known them too. “I’m sorry, you must miss her.”

  “Apparently more than he does.” Mary-Jane brushed a tear from her eye with an angry swipe.

  Olivia drew in a sharp breath. Silas pulled her hand against his chest. “Excuse us, Mary-Jane, but Olivia and I have things to talk about.”

  That was what he’d said earlier. Olivia had envisaged declarations of love, plans for the future. Now, a chill blew down her spine.

  They left immediately, drove to Olivia’s house. Silas didn’t talk, but he kept one hand on her thigh the entire journey. As if he was trying to make her stay.

  “Silas,” she said as she snapped on the lights in her living room, “you’re worrying me.”

  He didn’t take her in his arms, as she wished he would. His hands hung at his sides, his fingers loose and open. “Olivia,” he said slowly, “I lied to you. I didn’t tell you the truth.”

  “About Anna,” she guessed.

  He nodded. “This will hurt you, and I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes, as if he couldn’t bear to witness her reaction. “Olivia, I cheated on her.”

  A knife of pain stabbed her, deep, deep. “No.”

  “Just once—just one night. But Anna found out.”

  “No,” she said again. She groped behind her for the sofa, and collapsed onto it.

  Silas stayed where he was. “She was devastated, nothing I said could convince her how sorry I was. After one of our arguments, she left to visit the frog sanctuary, said she had to get away.”

  Olivia moaned. “That’s when she fell.”

  “It was my fault,” he said.

  If he thought she would disagree, he was wrong. An ache seized Olivia’s chest, spread through her until she wanted to double over.

  “The kids blamed me for her death, that’s why they don’t speak to me.”

  Olivia blamed him, too. “You should have told me.” She would never have let herself feel anything for a cheater.

  Two steps brought him to the sofa. He hunkered down, took her hands. “I’m asking you to forgive me, to love me back, the way I love you. No matter what.”

  This isn’t fair. “You know,” she said shakily, “you know I can’t.”

  He nodded, as if he had indeed known, and she felt a stab of irrational resentment that he thought so little of her.

  “You need to leave now,” she said.

  BETHANY AVOIDED TYLER for two days. At the start of their time together he’d managed to slip in and out of the house without encountering her; now she became a master of the same art.

  It wasn’t that difficult. Given that he didn’t want to see her any more than she wanted to see him.His rejection the other night had hurt so much, she’d been convinced she would wake up the next morning to find her love for him had disappeared.

  Instead, she’d woken numb. And when the numbness wore off, the love was still there. So strong that Bethany found herself trying to understand his reaction, which she was certain wasn’t physical revulsion at the thought of her having only one kidney.

  He was scared, she’d concluded. It had taken her a couple of days to realize that, but now, as she sat stirring her coffee in Tyler’s kitchen at ten o’clock on Tuesday morning, she was convinced she had it right.

  Tyler was afraid that loving her might mean he had to make some grand sacrifice—not a physical sacrifice, like a kidney, but something in his life or his nature he didn’t want to change. And he didn’t know if he could do it.

  Bethany added a third spoonful of sugar to her coffee—she hadn’t felt like eating much, and was maintaining her energy with regular doses of syrupy caffeine. She tossed the spoon into the sink.

  “Scaredy-cat,” she said out loud.

  Because no one knew what sacrifice they were capable of making until the need arose. She hadn’t started out intending to give Melanie her kidney, but when they’d reached the stage where that was the only option, she hadn’t thought twice.

  Not true. She remembered several nights lying awake, wondering what would happen if she ever got really sick and needed that kidney back. But in the daytime, the fears receded, and when she made her decision—on her own, unpressured by Mom and Dad—it hadn’t felt like a huge sacrifice.

  She held her coffee mug up to her face, cupped in her hands, and let the steam warm her.

  Tyler had never been tested, so it was no wonder he didn’t trust himself to do the right thing.

  WHEN TYLER’S BMW M6 roared up to the house an hour later, an illogical hope kicked Bethany’s pulse into overdrive. He’d never come home during the day before.

  But any thought that he might be here to put things right between them was dispelled by the grim set of his face when he strode into the kitchen, where Bethany, uncharacteristically inactive, still sat.“Where’s Ben?” he asked.

  “Having his morning nap.” Ben had at last settled into a routine of two major naps a day, which made Bethany’s life easier.

  Tyler stopped in front of her, hands fisted carelessly in the pockets of his suit pants. “Ben’s mother has come forward.”

  Whatever she’d expected, it wasn’t that. “How? Who is she?”

  “She’s been watching the coverage in the media. The investigator says she can’t bear to be without him any longer.”

  Of course she couldn’t, Bethany thought. Ben was so precious. The poor woman must have been in desperate straits to give him up in the first place.

  “Social services will want to talk to her,” she said. “I want to talk to her. We can’t give Ben back unless we’re sure she’s able to care for him.” Not that she or Tyler would have any say in the matter once the authorities took over.

  For once, Tyler didn’t question her emphasis on caring. “I already told the investigator to set up a meeting for us at her home, so we can check out the environment Ben will be going into. Then if it’s appropriate we can help with social services.” He sounded like an expert on child custody.

  “And if everything’s all right,” Bethany said, “Ben will go back to her.” And Bethany would go back to work. She reminded herself she needed to do that, tried to feel enthusiastic.

  A tiny pause. “It’s not our decision. But she is his mother.”

  He was right, but Bethany couldn’t find it in herself to be glad. She would miss that little boy so much…s
he’d fallen in love with him every bit as much as she’d fallen in love with Tyler. Her love for Ben was an entirely separate thing, and yet it made her love for Tyler more meaningful.

  Which it shouldn’t, because Ben wasn’t Tyler’s child any more than he was hers.

  “How will you feel,” she asked, “about giving him back?”

  His eyebrows drew together. “This isn’t about how I feel. Ben should be with his mother.”

  She’d lifted a hand, intending to comfort him with a pat on the shoulder. Now she let it fall back to her side. “Thanks for coming to tell me in person,” she said awkwardly.

  He tipped his head back, scanned the rack of gleaming pans suspended from the ceiling above the counter. “That’s not the only reason I’m here.”

  Now he would talk about the other night.

  When he lowered his gaze to hers, his eyes were as unyielding as flint, his GQ cheekbones thrown into sharp relief by the severe slash of his mouth.

  Bethany gulped.

  “The PhilStrat Committee met first thing this morning to finalize its recommendations.” He spoke fast, without expression. “We agreed your pitch was excellent…but Toronto’s was better. We’re giving them the money.”

  She felt a pit open up somewhere inside her, hope gushing out, draining away. “No.”

  Bethany clamped down with her teeth so hard on her lower lip, Tyler thought she might draw blood. She breathed in, out, in, out as she battled to contain her emotions.

  Just as, in the end, she’d contained them the other night. He knew he’d hurt her, had been grateful for her restraint. Now he had hurt her again.

  He told himself it was a good idea to reinforce the message that he was a selfish jerk.

  “The committee—” her voice was scratchy, she cleared her throat “—how does the vote work?”

  He knew what she was asking. If he’d voted for her but been outnumbered. He thought about lying. But why leave her with any illusions? He’d recognized when he first met her that Bethany had a rare courage, though he’d had no idea just how rare. He would honor that courage by having the guts to tell her the truth.

  “It was unanimous.”

  She flinched, and he knew he couldn’t leave it there. Maybe he could never be the man she needed, but he didn’t want her to hate him. “The Toronto team does amazing work. Their presentation convinced me they’re the best people to achieve your goal.”

  She swayed on her stool. “You know how hard I’ve worked for this, how much it means.”

  “That’s assuming,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “your goal is to save those children. Not just to assuage your guilt over Melanie’s death.”

  Her chin snapped up as if he’d hit her with an uppercut. “How dare you.”

  “Bethany, my decision was in the best interest of kids with kidney disease.” He watched as the inevitable inarticulateness overtook her, and she clammed up, red-faced, mouth tight, shoulders shaking with emotion.

  “I imagine you don’t want to be around me right now, so I’ll stay at Mom’s place tonight,” he said. “Shall I take Ben?”

  Bethany found her voice, but it was thick, waterlogged. “All his stuff is here, best leave him with me.”

  He nodded, scooped up his car keys from the counter. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon for the visit to Ben’s mother.” When he reached the kitchen doorway, he stopped. Without turning around, he said, “Bethany…I’m going to miss the little guy.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she choked.

  NEXT MORNING, Tyler got some news he’d been waiting for. One of the scheduled guests had canceled out of the Marlene Black Show, a live TV program based in Atlanta but syndicated all over the United States. The show, a mix of hard news and magazine-format stories, was one of the most respected in the country. This was the media breakthrough Tyler need to clinch the job in Washington, D.C.

  The timing would be tight, but he could do the interview before they went to see Ben’s mother.

  STILL SO ANGRY she hadn’t been able to talk to Tyler, Bethany stood by as talk show host Marlene Black introduced herself to him. Bethany sneered when he said he’d been a fan of Marlene’s for a long time, but no one was looking at her. Predictably, when Tyler turned that smile of his on Marlene, her voice grew more animated, her eyes brighter.

  “I’ll introduce the segment, then we’ll cut away to the footage of the mother leaving the baby at your office,” she said. “Then, Tyler, I’ll talk to you about the baby.” She turned to Bethany. “Maybe I’ll ask you about the baby’s health and development.”She signaled to one of the crew to attach a microphone to Bethany.

  “But I don’t want—” Bethany said.

  “Actually, Marlene, I’d rather we spent as much time as possible talking about how the foundation helps parents and children,” Tyler said. “Do you think we could do that?” He gave her a smile so hot, Bethany half expected the woman to combust. Dammit, he was such a manipulator.

  “Absolutely,” Marlene breathed, and laid a hand on Tyler’s arm. “I think the work you do is wonderful.”

  “If you think that’s wonderful, you should see him naked,” Bethany said snarkily. Because that’s what the woman meant, Bethany would bet her entire research budget on it.

  Tyler choked. Marlene whisked her hand off his arm faster than the speed of light.

  “Not that I have,” Bethany said chattily, “but his secretary assures me it’s an impressive sight.” Olivia hadn’t used that exact word when she’d mentioned seeing Tyler naked as a baby, but Bethany was extrapolating.

  “Uh…” Marlene darted a confused glance at Tyler.

  “Let’s just stick to business, shall we?” He glared at Bethany. “I’ll hold Ben for the start of the interview, then I’ll pass him to you before he starts crying or puking.”

  That’s right, duck out of the hard yards, she fumed.

  After his introduction Tyler handed Ben over to Bethany. He presented a compassionate yet authoritative persona to the camera as he talked about how rewarding his time with the baby had been.

  The interviewer still looked wary every time she caught Bethany’s eye. Then the woman said, “We’re going to talk to pediatrician Bethany Hart about Ben’s health and development.”

  What? If this was Marlene’s idea of revenge for that comment Bethany had made earlier…But the camera was on her, so she made sure she was the consummate pediatric professional as she gave her expert opinion.

  She’d thought she was doing pretty well, but then, from the corner of her eye, she saw Tyler glance at his watch. Just the way he had when she’d bored him with her pitch. No doubt he was counting the seconds until he could get all the attention back on himself and his precious foundation. Until he could forget Ben’s existence.

  “How did you come to get involved with young Ben?” Marlene asked her.

  “I’ve been fortunate to have my research into childhood kidney disease funded by the generosity of Tyler Warrington and the Warrington Foundation,” she said.

  She caught Tyler’s surprised, pleased look. Good, she had his full attention. “Or should I say, it used to be funded,” she amended. “Unfortunately the foundation hasn’t renewed its grant, so if I want to make real progress in the battle against childhood kidney disease, I need to look elsewhere.” She sensed rather than saw Tyler’s shock. Take that, Mr. Hotshot Philanthropist.

  “If I get more money,” Bethany said, “I know my work can make a difference.” At first, she talked fast, not wanting to give Marlene any chance to break in. Then she realized the presenter had eased back in her chair and, beyond chipping in with the occasional “uh-huh,” was going to let her say her piece. She slowed her pace, made sure she got across several important points about childhood kidney disease and the importance of securing extra research funds. She talked for what felt like two whole minutes.

  By the time the cameras went off them and the ad break kicked in, Tyler was ready to explode. Thanks t
o Bethany’s hijack, he’d barely gotten a word in, and this was his last chance to impress Washington. She’d hitched a ride on his wagon, then proceeded to shove him off it!

  “Thanks for letting me say so much about my research,” she was saying now as she shook Marlene’s hand while Tyler stood fuming to one side.

  The other woman’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I didn’t have much choice, after you made it plain you doubted my professionalism.”

  “Oh.” Bethany blushed—and so she damn well should, Tyler thought. “Sorry about that.”

  “I’m just glad you didn’t say it on air.” A giggle softened the talk-show host’s sophistication and made her look a lot more attractive, though Bethany was the prettier of the two. “It would’ve livened the segment up if you had.”

  Yeah, and hadn’t it needed livening up, with Bethany going on about kidney disease.

  “If you two have finished your girl talk,” Tyler said with a smoothness that didn’t entirely hide his fury, “we have a baby here who needs his lunch.”

  Bethany’s face held a hint of gloating and a whole lot of “since when do you care about the baby?” And, dammit, she still looked pretty. She said goodbye to Marlene and headed for the door, her hips swinging beneath a soft turquoise skirt he’d never seen before, her high-heeled shoes drawing his attention to her slim ankles. Tyler picked up Ben in his car seat and followed her.

  Ben was tired—overtired—and on the way home he started to squall. Bethany turned around in her seat and tried to soothe him, but nothing worked. When the din got so loud Tyler couldn’t concentrate on driving, he pulled over.

  “You’d better get in the back and give him a bottle, or something,” he snapped.

  She did as he suggested, and it seemed to calm Ben. Tyler pulled out into traffic again, but within a minute Ben was pulling away from the bottle, crying angrily.

  “I think he’s teething, he’s been extra drooly the past few days.”

  Huh, she managed to speak civilly enough when it was about Ben. In the rearview mirror, Tyler saw her lean over to drop a kiss on the baby’s head. Then she began to sing: “Tom, Tom, the piper’s son, stole a pig and away did run. The pig was eat and Tom was beat, and Tom ran crying down the street.”