Bringing Up Baby New Year & Frisky Business

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  “Now let’s eat.” He lifted the fast-food sacks. “I got burgers for us and some extra French fries for short stuff there.”

  I may be short, but I’m good.

  “He’s never had French fries before,” Darcie said. “He’ll probably love them.”

  “Then let’s get to it.” Joe headed for the kitchen. “We have a ton of planning to do for this Baby New Year display. We can’t put him out there by himself obviously, so we have to find a way to work you and me into the theme, and time is getting tight.”

  As Darcie followed him into the kitchen, she thought of telling him she’d put Geraldine on the problem after swearing her to secrecy, but she sensed Joe wasn’t crazy about Geraldine, so she kept quiet. Besides, she had another matter to clear up with her housemate.

  “Joe, we have to talk about expenses. You’ve bought dinner and the gates. Then, too, I’m using electricity and water. I need to pay my share, but I’m on a limited budget, and some things may be beyond my means.”

  “First of all, we’re going to win that contest.” He scrubbed his hands at the sink and dried them with a paper towel.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, but—”

  “And second of all, Gus is the reason we’re going to win the contest.”

  Well, scratch my britches and call me Angus. Finally some credit.

  “The gates are to protect our main asset,” Joe continued, pointing at Gus. “The French fries are to keep him fueled up. I have as much of a stake in that as you do right now. You’re bringing Gus to the project, so it seems perfectly fair to me that I pay your utilities, buy a couple of gates and a meal now and then.”

  “And what if we don’t win the contest?”

  Leave it to me, lass.

  “We will,” Joe said. “This concept has legs. Now let’s eat. Fast food doesn’t improve with age.”

  Darcie settled Gus in his high chair. She’d like to believe that providing Gus for the display was enough of a contribution to justify all sorts of extras Joe had thrown in, like a roof over her head, bubble baths and French fries for her baby. It’s not like she expected it from him. In fact, she’d stopped by the grocery store on her way home and she could feed herself and Gus from the supplies she’d bought. She could even feed Joe.

  But in the months when she’d been the sole wage earner and the mother of a new baby, she’d never come home to find that someone else had provided the dinner. Perhaps she was becoming indebted to Joe in ways she shouldn’t allow. Still, she couldn’t deny that she thoroughly enjoyed having another person share the burden of the daily chores and expenses for a change.

  She snapped on Gus’s bib and sat down in the nearest chair.

  Joe reached in the sack for the bag of fries. “Can I give him one?”

  “Are they very hot?”

  He picked out one pudgy fry. “Not really.”

  “Okay, he can have one, but you’d better break it into small pieces first. He only has four teeth.”

  But I can gum with the best of them. Lay that French fry on me.

  Joe took a plump fry out of the package and broke it into bite-size pieces. “See how that goes down, Gus.”

  Gus picked up a small chunk, put it in his mouth and gummed it experimentally. Then his green eyes lit up and he grinned. Saints be praised, I hear the angels singing.

  “Look at him!” Darcie said. “He loves it!”

  Don’t bother me, lass. I’m having a spiritual experience.

  “Like that, do you, Gus?” Joe grinned at him. “I knew you were all right.”

  Gus shifted the morsel around, drooling with delight. Might have been mistaken about you, too, blarney breath. You might have one or two redeeming personality traits. Just keep those French fries coming, and we’ll talk.

  When the doorbell rang, Joe pushed back his chair and stood. “That better not be the Elderhorns again. We’ve cleared out the livestock and I’ve even thrown away Santa and the elves, so they don’t have a beef left as far as I’m concerned. And we’re not serving them Happy Hour every night, either. Madge drinks like a fish. Did you notice?”

  Darcie smiled at Joe. “I think Madge enjoys the occasional beverage. She must have a drop of Irish blood in her.”

  Nothing wrong with a pint or two now and then. Steadies the mind. A pint and fries. Now there’s a meal fit for a king.

  The doorbell chimed again and Joe left to answer it. From his unenthusiastic greeting, Darcie assumed it was the Elderhorns after all, but soon he walked back into the kitchen with an incredibly well-endowed blonde wearing sunglasses. If Darcie hadn’t seen the wig before, she never would have recognized Geraldine, whose chest seemed to have expanded to a size forty-eight triple E.

  “Howdy, y’all!” Geraldine said, and giggled.

  Joe gave Darcie a deadpan stare. “It’s Dolly Parton come to support the Save the Animals Millennium Project.”

  Darcie burst out laughing. “I love it!”

  Geraldine spread her arms and twirled around. “Awesome, wouldn’t you say?”

  Joe rolled his eyes. “I’d say you’ve watched way too much Grand Ol’ Opry.”

  “From a distance, I’ll bet you look just like her,” Darcie said. “But how did you get the…?” She paused and held her cupped hands in front of her chest.

  “Balloons, honey. Good thing you don’t have a kitty cat around here or I’d have a dramatic reduction thing going.”

  Joe glanced at Darcie. “I take it you mentioned to Geraldine that I was supposed to be involved in the Save the Animals Millennium Project?”

  “I did.” Darcie hadn’t dreamed that her friend could whip up a costume this fast, however.

  “Well, does Dolly want a hamburger and fries?”

  Watch how you give away my fries, laddie, or this new relationship may take a nosedive right into the duck pond.

  “Y’all are too kind to this poor country girl. I could also manage a dry martini.”

  Darcie glanced at Joe, then back at Geraldine. “Are you driving home?”

  “She hired a stretch limo,” Joe said. “It’s parked out front.”

  “Geraldine, you didn’t!”

  “Darling, I have always wanted to arrive somewhere in one of those things, and this was the perfect opportunity. I had so much fun I’m planning to do it again. I’ll be somebody else next time.”

  “Elvis?” Joe asked blandly.

  Geraldine sent him a scathing look over the top of her sunglasses. “Don’t you have some bartending duties, young man?”

  “Sure thing.” He started out of the room. “Oh, and, Geraldine, I can see your…balloons.”

  “Voyeur.” Geraldine stuffed the balloons, one red and one yellow, more firmly into the bodice of her dress. Then she pulled a chair over near Gus and sat down. “How’s my darling Baby New Year? You’ve been on the job, I hope, protecting your mother from the advances of Mr. Happy Hormones.”

  I’ve been consorting with the enemy, lass. Greased my palm with fries, he did. How’s a fellow to resist nectar of the gods?

  “Geraldine, I haven’t told Joe that you know about the New Year plan.”

  “Well, you’d better tell him because I have the perfect solution to working both of you into the display.”

  Joe came back into the kitchen, a stemmed glass in his hand. “One martini, very dry.”

  “Thank you, Joe. Over the teeth and over the gums, look out, liver, here it comes.”

  Gus banged on his tray. Some of us are out of fries here.

  Joe broke up another French fry to put in front of him. “There you go, Gus.”

  Obliged. Beginning to rethink my opinion of you, lad. You might be a fine fellow after all.

  Darcie cleared her throat. “Uh, Joe, I should mention to you that I let Geraldine in on our plan to use Gus as Baby New Year in the yard decoration.”

  “Oh, you did?”

  “Don’t worry, Joe.” Geraldine plucked the olive from her drink and popped it into her mouth.
“I am the soul of discretion.”

  “Uh-huh.” Joe sat down and unwrapped his hamburger.

  “I also have the most marvelous idea for the display,” Geraldine said. “Gus is Baby New Year, so you, Joe, are Father Time. First, you come out, stooped over, wrinkled, long white beard, white bathrobe. You hobble across the yard, propping yourself up on that curved thing Father Time carries.”

  “A scythe,” Darcie said. “Oh, it’s a wonderful idea, Geraldine.”

  “A scythe,” Geraldine repeated, taking another swig of her martini. “So do you get the picture, Joe? You’re old, very old. You can barely make it across the yard, you’re so old. People can hardly wait to see you gone. You’re decrepit, toothless, impotent—”

  “I get the picture, Geraldine.”

  “Then Baby New Year comes out,” Geraldine continued. “He’s young, he’s adorable, he’s full of smiles and dimples.”

  I’ll work for fries.

  “I’ve been thinking about his costume,” Darcie said. “Maybe I could dye a knit outfit flesh color so he won’t get cold.”

  Just so I get fries.

  “That would probably work,” Geraldine said. “Anyway, with the top hat and the sash, people will get the idea. And they’ll be crazy about Baby New Year. They’ll cheer, they’ll laugh, they’ll throw confetti in the air. Gus will be the man of the hour.”

  I like it.

  Geraldine glanced over at Joe. “Meanwhile, Father Time is history. Outta there. Eliminated. Phased out. G-O-N-E.”

  Faith, he’s my man with the fries! Let’s not go overboard, lass.

  Joe gazed at Geraldine. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  “It has a certain appeal.”

  “I need to point out that Baby New Year isn’t walking yet,” Joe said.

  Geraldine drained her glass. “I’ve thought of that. Darcie will bring him in. Maybe you could get a remnant of red carpet from Home World, Joe. Darcie can set Gus down and he can crawl across the carpet toward Father Time.”

  “In all the pictures I’ve seen, Baby New Year isn’t brought in by his mother,” Darcie said. “Won’t that seem awkward?”

  “Not if you’re wearing spangles and a crown and a sash across your chest proclaiming you as…Miss Millennium!”

  “Wow,” Darcie said. “That’s certainly creative and timely. And it solves the problem about how to gracefully get Gus on the scene.” She noticed Joe wasn’t leaping on the suggestion. “What do you think, Joe?”

  “She’s wearing spangles, a crown, a sash, and what else?”

  “Oh, I think something sexy, something brief,” Geraldine said. “Don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t. I—” He turned as Gus started making a lot of racket banging on his tray table. “Hungry for another French fry, short stuff?”

  Do bears poop in the woods?

  Joe fished out another fry, broke it up and laid it on Gus’s tray.

  “Think about this, Joe,” Geraldine said. “You’re the comedy routine, Gus is the cute and adorable element, then Darcie hits them with sex appeal. You’ve covered all the bases.”

  “It’s the middle of winter. She’ll catch cold,” Joe muttered.

  “The middle of winter in Arizona,” Darcie added. “And I’ll only be out there a little while. I can take it, and I think maybe Geraldine’s right.”

  “You’re a mother,” Joe said, turning to her, his expression belligerent. “Mothers shouldn’t be running around half-naked.”

  “Oh, really? And who made that rule?” Darcie was becoming irritated. Geraldine had a perfectly good idea, and Joe was using old stereotypes to squash it. “I never realized you were such a prude, Joe.”

  “I’m not a prude. I just…” He stopped talking and glanced at Gus. With an oath, he leaped from his chair, tipping it over as he lifted Gus out of his high chair.

  Darcie jumped up, her heart hammering. “What—”

  “Choking,” Joe bit out. He turned Gus on his stomach over his forearm and hit him between the shoulder blades sharply with the heel of his hand. A piece of fry flew out and landed on the floor, and Gus began to cry. Joe turned him back over and gathered him against his chest. “You’re okay, little guy,” he murmured, rocking the baby gently. “You’re okay now. Easy does it, little leprechaun.”

  Darcie stood gulping in air and watching Joe cradle her baby. He knew exactly what to do, exactly how to hold and comfort Gus, and Gus nestled against Joe as if he belonged there. But what really amazed her was the look of tenderness on Joe’s face. Gus was more than a means to an end for Joe although he might insist otherwise. He was beginning to love her little leprechaun.

  Joe glanced at Darcie, his dark eyes filled with remorse. “Sorry about that. Maybe the fries weren’t such a good idea.”

  Darcie gazed at him, her heart full of gratitude, and something else, something she probably shouldn’t allow herself to feel for this man. Lust was one thing. This other, deeper emotion would be harder to control. “It’s not your fault. Babies choke on things. It happens. Next time we can soak them in milk to make them softer. I should have thought of that.”

  Gus stopped crying and Joe brushed his thumbs over Gus’s damp cheeks with such gentleness that Darcie’s heart squeezed.

  He smiled down at Gus. “Okay now, sport?”

  Saved my bacon, you did.

  “He looks fine,” Darcie said. “Thank you, Joe. Thank you for noticing, for knowing what to do. I was so wrapped up in this new plan that I wasn’t watching him as closely as I should.”

  “Me, either,” Geraldine said. “Nice job, Joe,” she added with new respect in her voice.

  You know, blarney breath, never thought I’d say it, but I’m beginning to think we need you in the family. Maybe I’ll see what I can do about that.

  ALL THROUGH TANNENBAUM, vehicles sat in driveways, and garage doors stayed firmly closed, hiding the secret projects being feverishly constructed inside. The DeWitt house was no exception. Joe pushed Darcie’s car out and kept the truck parked in the driveway while he labored on the set design in the garage until late into the night.

  Once the basic plywood structure was finished, Darcie had offered to help him paint, but in the meantime she stayed inside sewing their costumes. He was afraid to ask what Darcie’s would look like. He was even more afraid to examine the reasons why he didn’t want her out there for every Tom, Dick and Harry to ogle, so he’d decided to ignore the subject of her costume.

  Geraldine had the limo bring her over on several different occasions as she impersonated other celebrities, but she seemed to favor her Dolly Parton outfit the most. And each night Darcie always managed to pop into bed before Joe came in from the garage, which reduced temptation for both of them.

  That was definitely a good thing, Joe told himself. The more time he spent in Darcie’s vicinity, the more he wanted to be there. He was becoming way too attached to the lilting Irish songs she sang in the morning, the sight of her dancing with little Gus, the scent of her flowery cologne when they happened to pass in the hallway.

  Darcie fascinated him, and he’d begun noticing every little thing about her. He knew she drank tea, not coffee, and preferred it with a splash of half-and-half and no sugar. He knew that watching The Quiet Man made her homesick for Ireland, but she loved sniffling through it anyway. He knew her favorite color was green and she didn’t much like the freckles sprinkled all over her creamy skin. He liked her freckles. Way too much.

  He told himself that she was making this deep impression on him because they weren’t having sex. Probably if they had been having sex, he’d have gotten past this obsession with her and would have stopped doing idiotic things like counting the freckles on her nose. But they couldn’t have sex because she wouldn’t want it to be casual and he wouldn’t want it to be serious.

  So every night he hammered and sawed, which should have taken his mind off Darcie, but didn’t. He had nicks and a purple thumbnail to prove his lack of concentrati
on.

  They’d decided on a Times Square backdrop, and he’d propped a travel brochure up on the workbench. Thanks to the invention of chasing lights, he’d figured out how to duplicate the Happy New Year message running across the top of the triangular Allied Tower Building.

  A combination of plywood forms and pegboard inserts with lights strung through the holes would give the impression of skyscrapers at night. Everything would be painted black for simplicity. Joe also wanted to design a lighted ball that actually dropped when Miss Millennium brought in Baby New Year, but he hadn’t quite worked out the engineering on that yet.

  Around midnight two nights before the opening of the display, he finished the plywood structure and was close to a solution on how to drop the lighted ball. He and Darcie would have to paint like crazy to finish in time, but he thought they could make it. Stretching, he switched off the lights in the garage and went into the kitchen where, as usual, Darcie had left a light burning over the stove to welcome him back inside.

  The house was quiet, and he knew instinctively that she had gone to sleep, a step ahead of him as usual. If she were still awake, he couldn’t imagine that he wouldn’t sense some kind of electricity in the air. Now the tension belonged to him alone, and although it was late, he didn’t feel sleepy. Sex would fix the edginess that was always with him lately. Damn.

  He took a beer out of the refrigerator, popped the tab and carried the can with him into the dark living room. Across the street he could see light coming from under a crack at the bottom of the Elderhorns’ garage door. Herman was probably in there painting and needed the ventilation.

  Good idea, Joe decided. He’d be sure and do the same when he and Darcie were painting tomorrow night so he wouldn’t asphyxiate both of them. Besides, he was loopy enough with sexual frustration without getting even higher on paint fumes.

  Joe would love to know what sort of competition Madge and Herman planned to throw at him day after tomorrow. He thoroughly expected to win, but he was still interested in knowing what was going on behind the Elderhorns’ garage door. Then he’d have an idea whether he needed to add any of the embellishments he’d been considering, like a giant bottle of fizzing champagne and a wind machine blowing confetti around. If he crept over there and lay down in front of that crack under the garage door, he could probably see everything.