She just wanted to sleep, but thanks to his pointed innuendo—and no doubt he’d have something to say about that word choice, too—she worried that she’d lie awake thinking about all the other fun things that could happen in his king-size bed if he was there with her.
She was out as soon as her head hit the pillows.
* * *
“I know your mom really likes waffles, but we’re going to go with pancakes this morning,” Kyle said to Joel, who was seated in his high chair so he could watch his dad putter around the kitchen. “Because she doesn’t have a waffle iron and I’m afraid that if I go upstairs to get mine, I’ll wake her up.”
The baby gurgled.
Funny, Kyle wouldn’t have thought gurgle was a real world, but the sound his son made was definitely a gurgle.
“I’ll bet you’d love a pancake, too,” Kyle said, as he measured and mixed ingredients. “But I think you need to stick with mushy stuff for a while yet.”
Joel responded with a babble this time.
He was still a long way from making recognizable sounds, but Erin had assured Kyle that their son was making progress, that the gurgles and babbles and coos—and even the raspberries—were evidence that he was trying to communicate.
Of course, his most effective form of communication was crying, and Kyle had been jolted awake—twice—in the middle of the night by piercing screams so loud he’d worried that Erin might hear them even in his apartment upstairs.
Joel didn’t stay awake for long either time, but Kyle had to be fully awake to change his diaper and warm his bottle. And each time after the baby was settled again, it had taken him a while longer to drift off. And while Kyle didn’t feel too bad this morning, he was cognizant of the fact that he’d only dealt with the baby’s demands for one night. Considering that Erin had been doing it every night since Joel was born, it was no wonder that she was exhausted.
He hoped that she’d slept well, with no one in the next room to disturb her slumber. But mostly he hoped that she’d awake refreshed and able to appreciate the benefits of having someone around to share the responsibility of nighttime feedings, which they’d more easily be able to do when they were married and living together.
She came in just after eight o’clock, wearing flannel pajamas and a huge smile.
“Nine hours,” she said by way of greeting. “I slept for nine uninterrupted hours and it was wonderful.”
“That’s great,” he said.
“Of course, when I woke up after nine hours, it was excruciating, because I’ve never gone that long without nursing—or at least pumping. So I used your shower, because warm water can help with letdown and—you really don’t need all the details, do you?”
“Probably not,” he said. “Although, it mostly sounds like you’re speaking a foreign language, anyway.”
She managed to laugh. “It’s okay. I got nine hours of sleep. I didn’t think it would happen, but it did and I’m so grateful to you.”
“You’re welcome?”
“I sound like a crazy person, don’t I? I just have so much energy—it’s as if my batteries are fully recharged. And you made breakfast for me, too,” she realized.
“Pancakes,” he said, taking the platter out of the oven and setting it on the table. “Because you don’t have a waffle iron.”
“Mmm...and sausage.” She took a seat at the table and immediately began transferring food to her plate. “You know you played the wrong card when you suggested we get married.”
“What card should I have played?”
She gestured to her plate with her fork. “This one.”
“Are you saying that you would have given me a different answer if I promised to ensure that you’d never go hungry?”
“Probably not,” she admitted, as she dug into her pancakes. “But I would have given it serious consideration.”
“Food for thought,” he said.
Chapter Sixteen
Since Tuesday was Kyle’s day off from the restaurant, Erin tried to schedule client meetings and other appointments on that day, when he was available to take care of Joel. He never admitted to her that he’d been absolutely terrified the first few times he was left alone with the little guy, certain that he’d do something wrong or otherwise screw up and make her decide that he couldn’t be trusted with their child.
But after a few weeks, he’d learned to read the baby’s cues. He could even tell by Joel’s cries if he was hungry or wet or tired. So Kyle was feeling pretty confident in his parenting skills when he waved goodbye to Erin on the last Tuesday morning in May. In fact, he was thinking that he might take Joel to the farmers market again so that he could look around at all the colors and scents—a first step, Kyle hoped, toward understanding and appreciating that quality ingredients made good food.
But Joel slept for longer than usual that morning, and when he did wake up, his cries sounded different.
“You were tired today,” Kyle said, lifting the baby out of his crib and laying him down on the change table. “Did you not sleep well last night?
“Mommy didn’t say anything about you having a restless night,” he said, as he unsnapped the baby’s sleeper, “but she had a big meeting this morning, so she was probably already focused on that.”
He peeled back the diaper shirt and laid his hand on Joel’s belly to hold him in place while he swapped out the wet diaper for a dry one.
“Hmm.” Kyle frowned at the heat emanating from the baby’s skin. “I don’t think this is normal.”
And the baby’s lack of engagement wasn’t normal, either. Usually his eyes were intent on Kyle’s face when he was talking to him, but today Joel was completely uninterested, not even gurgling in response to his dad’s chatter.
“Let’s check your temperature and see if there’s reason to panic.”
101.2
Kyle panicked.
And then he tried to call Erin, but her phone went straight to voice mail, which increased his sense of alarm.
But what could she do even if she’d answered his call? She was in Battle Mountain today—too far away to return home quickly. Most likely she’d tell him to call the pediatrician, so he did that.
And then he called his mom.
“I was just about to leave for the restaurant,” Jo said when she connected the call.
“I’m sorry,” Kyle said. “But Erin’s at a meeting and Joel’s running a fever and—”
“What’s his temperature?”
“101.2.”
“Has the pediatrician okayed baby Tylenol?”
“I just talked to Dr. Tahir, and that’s what he recommended, but I can’t find any in the medicine cabinet.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“Thanks,” he said, but she’d already hung up.
He exhaled a weary sigh of relief as he set down his phone.
He didn’t feel like a failure because he’d had to reach out for help. He’d rather acknowledge his own shortcomings than risk anything happening to Joel. And truthfully, he’d considered bundling up the baby and driving to the hospital, so he figured he deserved some credit for opting for a more reasonable and rational response in calling his mom.
Thankfully, she was at the door in less than the ten minutes she’d promised, with a paper bag from the pharmacy in hand.
“Thanks for coming,” he said.
“Of course.” She was already halfway across the room to where Joel was secure inside his bouncy chair, paying no attention to the toys he usually loved. But his expression brightened a little when his saw his grandmother, and he even managed to produce a gummy smile.
“There’s Grandma Jo’s big boy,” she said, unbuckling his harness and lifting him into her arms. “Your cheeks are definitely flushed,” she noted, then touched her lips to his forehead. “And you feel a little warm. Did you pick up a b
ug when you were out and about this week?”
“I took him to the market last week,” Kyle confided now. “Is this my fault?”
“It’s no one’s fault,” his mom assured him. “Babies’ immune systems aren’t very well developed, so they get sick easily and often.”
He read the instructions on the box of medication, then carefully measured out the appropriate dosage. He was relieved when Joel let him put the dropper in his mouth and squirt the medication onto his tongue. Then he picked up the thermometer again to check the baby’s temperature.
Jo chuckled. “You might want to give the medication more than thirty seconds to work.”
“How much more?”
“At least half an hour.”
He looked at his watch, nodded.
“Counting down the minutes won’t make them go any faster,” she said. “And if you’re anxious, Joel’s going to feel anxious, too.”
“How can I not be anxious? He’s sick and—”
“He’s going to be just fine,” she interjected to assure him.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I refuse to consider any other possibility.”
“Is that the secret to successful parenting—positive thinking?”
“I don’t know that it’s a secret, but it’s an essential tool,” she told him. “Doctors can offer reassurance and pharmaceuticals, but in the middle of the night, sometimes hopes and prayers are all a parent’s got. I can’t tell you how many nights I sat up with you and your sister, hoping and praying that whatever ailed you would pass.”
And she’d done it on her own. Maybe not in the beginning, but Marty was gone before Lucy’s fifth birthday, leaving Jo alone to pick up the shattered pieces of her family and try to put them back together.
It wasn’t until he was much older that Kyle learned the details of his parents’ marriage. That in the early years, Jolene had worked at Haven Pizzeria to help make ends meet while her husband was getting his landscaping business of the ground. Right around the time of her divorce, the previous owners decided to sell the restaurant. Though she’d apparently been reluctant to take on the hefty mortgage that would be required for her to buy the business, she didn’t see that she had any choice if she was going to provide for her family as the child support awarded by the court didn’t amount to much of anything.
At the same time, she’d moved her family into the two-bedroom apartment over the pizzeria (renamed Jo’s Pizza) while his dad’s other family lived in luxury. It wasn’t the pinching pennies that bothered Kyle so much as the fact that, at ten years of age, he was suddenly responsible for looking after his five-year-old sister whenever their mom was working—and it seemed as if she was always working!
When Kyle wasn’t taking care of Lucy, he’d been helping out in the restaurant—bussing tables or washing dishes. And they were always eating pizza or pasta for dinner, because Jo didn’t have time to make anything else, although she usually insisted that they have salad or some other kind of vegetable with it. Was it any wonder then that Kyle, with the assistance of YouTube videos, had expanded upon the basics his mom had taught him and learned how to cook actual meals?
And once he’d mastered some simple recipes and cooking methods, he’d begun to experiment—changing up ingredients and adding different spices. His mom had been his biggest fan, always happy to sample whatever he’d prepared and exclaim about its deliciousness, promising that she’d let him have free rein in her restaurant kitchen someday.
But when he’d expressed an interest in going to culinary school, Jo was baffled. Why did he want to go away when she could teach him everything he needed to know about making the world’s best pizza (and according to all the local residents, Jo’s Pizza was the best) in her own kitchen?
He’d returned to Haven with his diploma and the expectation that his mom would let him expand the offerings at Jo’s beyond pizza, wings and simple pasta dishes. But the heart of the business had always been pizza, and she’d been reluctant to venture too far away from that basic menu. Despite the fact that she’d reneged on their agreement, she was furious when Kyle had chosen to take a job at another restaurant, where he’d hoped to have more freedom and creativity. Duke hadn’t balked when he wanted to try new things, but Diggers’ customers were less forgiving.
Liam Gilmore’s decision to open an upscale dining facility in his newly renovated hotel had proved to be a smart one, and Kyle was thrilled to have complete control over the menu. Especially since it was the only part of his life that he had any control over these days.
“This parenting thing is scary,” he confided now.
“It’s terrifying,” his mom agreed. “And also fun and exciting and frustrating and satisfying and all the other emotions you’ve ever known.”
“How did you do it on your own?”
“It wasn’t always easy,” she acknowledged. “But you and your sister have always been my pride and joy.”
“Did you ever wish Dad had helped out more?”
She laughed then. “Every day and twice on Sundays. But the truth is, we mostly managed okay. And if he wasn’t there to help through the tough times, he wasn’t there to share the good times, either, and that’s his loss, because there were a lot more good times.
“Still, I’m glad to know that he’s making an effort now, though I wish Lucy wasn’t sneaking off to Prospector Point to see him.”
“I know that she’s been in contact with him,” he hedged. “I wouldn’t say that she’s been sneaking.”
“When you’re not honest about what you’re doing, it’s sneaking,” she insisted.
“If she wasn’t honest with you, it was probably only because she didn’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t care that she’s been seeing him,” Jo said, then shook her head. “No, that’s not true. I’m happy that she’s been seeing him.”
“You don’t sound happy,” Kyle said cautiously.
“I’m not happy that she thought she had to hide her visits,” his mom explained. “I never wanted to keep you and your sister from your father.”
“Then I should tell you that Dad wants to meet Joel, and we’ve been invited to Prospector Point this weekend. Of course, we’ll have to see how the baby’s feeling before we decide whether or not to go.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Jo said again. “By Saturday, this crisis will be a distant memory for you and completely forgotten by him. Don’t use it as an excuse not to go to Prospector Point.”
“You want us to go?”
“I do,” she confirmed. “I spent a lot of years being mad at Martin because he wasn’t there for you and Lucy. But the truth is, he might have been there more if I hadn’t made it so difficult for him. And I might not have spent a lot of years feeling guilty for depriving you of a relationship with your father.”
“He didn’t try very hard to be there for us,” Kyle pointed out, admittedly still a little bitter about that fact.
“He could have tried harder,” she agreed. “And I could have been more accommodating. But there’s no purpose in regrets now.”
“Hmm.”
“Why are you asking about that now? Dare I let myself hope that you’re finally thinking about marriage?”
“I haven’t had a lot of luck making relationships work,” he confided.
“Work makes relationships work,” his mother told him. “Luck doesn’t have anything to do with it.”
“I want me and Erin and Joel to be a family,” he said. “But she’s made it clear that she has no intention of marrying me just because we made a baby together.”
Jo shook her head. “I sometimes wonder how such a smart man can be so oblivious.”
“What is it you think I’m oblivious about?”
“The fact that you love her.”
“Of course, I love her. We were friend
s for a long time before...”
“Before you fell into bed together?” she finished for him.
He nodded.
“So you’re telling me that you love her as a friend?”
“She is a friend,” he said again.
“I was wrong. You’re not oblivious, you’re an idiot.”
* * *
Joel bounced back quickly from whatever it was that had ailed him. Of course, Erin took him to the doctor the next day “just to be on the safe side,” but the little guy was already brighter and happier, more like his usual self by then.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with a feverish baby,” she said. “But I’m glad you reached out to your mom.”
“She seemed the obvious choice, when I couldn’t reach you. Plus, she totally dotes on her grandson.”
“And he lights right up when he hears her voice.”
“If I’d known having a baby was all I needed to do to soften her attitude toward me, I might have knocked you up years ago,” he teased.
She lifted her brows. “You think I would have let you get into my pants years ago?”
His lips curved as his gaze skimmed over her in a leisurely and sensual perusal that made her whole body tingle. “Yeah, I do.”
And heaven help her, he was probably right.
Of course, Joel’s quick recovery meant that Kyle had no excuse to cancel their plans to visit his dad and stepmom on Saturday morning—until Claudio called to tell them that they were heading to the hospital because Lucy was in labor.
“What do you think?” Kyle asked Erin, as he buckled Joel into his car seat. “Prospector Point or the maternity ward at the hospital?”
“You have no idea how long babies take to be born, do you?”
“No,” he admitted.
“Prospector Point,” she said. “We’ll visit with your dad and stepmom as planned and stop by the hospital on our way home to see your sister and brother-in-law, then we’ll go back again tomorrow to meet their son or daughter, because chances are, the baby won’t be born before then.”
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