Assignment- Baby

by Lynne Marshall

  As the class went on, he surreptitiously read part of the syllabus—as much as was possible with Sophie trying her best to swat at the pages and rip them to shreds. Mandy had everything carefully analyzed and set up to perfection. To do anything less would go against her character.

  An hour and a half later, the room had cleared of everyone but Mandy, Sophie and Hunter.

  She tugged at her hair again and approached cautiously, slowly building speed and looking more confident. "No way are we going to work together," she said.

  "Yes, way. Because I've signed on and I'm not a quitter."

  "I'm calling Dr. Hersh first thing tomorrow morning and asking for a replacement."

  "And he'll tell you exactly what he told me. 'Good thing you've agreed, Hunter. I was about to cancel the class.'"

  After a brief, silent standoff, she said, "I don't believe you."

  "It's true, so get over it. I'm here to stay." One little white lie couldn't possibly hurt their already strained partnership.

  Mandy stared him down with a defiant glint in her eyes.

  "I'm your last resort. Take it or leave it," he said.

  Something changed in her demeanor. Was it acceptance of her rotten luck?

  She walked back to the podium and shuffled some papers. "I almost had a heart attack when you walked into the room."

  Hunter followed her. "Then you were in the right class."

  "Don't be a smart-ass," she said.

  "Believe me, no one was more surprised than I when Joel told me who I'd be working with."

  "Why did you agree to work with me?"

  "Because you needed help," he said quietly.

  She glanced at him, but her eyes darted away before he could engage her.

  Feeling a twinge of guilt, he continued. "That's not completely true." He scratched the back of his neck. "I didn't know you were involved until I'd already committed."

  She tilted her head and quirked her mouth, looking neither disappointed nor surprised at his confession. "But you didn't back out?"

  "Nope."

  She shook her head. They stared at each other for a beat, and he thought he saw a hint of gratitude.

  Drawing her brows together, she gazed at Sophie and asked with an acerbic flare, "Babysitter problems?"

  The baby had fallen asleep halfway through the session, and had used his shoulder to lay her head and drool on.

  "No. This is Jade's daughter. I am the babysitter."

  "Jade had a baby?" Relief flashed on her face but she quickly concealed it. Amanda and Jade had become great friends while she and Hunter had been married. Unfortunately, after the divorce they'd drifted apart. Her shoulders relaxed and she seemed to breathe easier. "How wonderful."

  A surge of dread coursed through him. Of course—how else would it look? You jerk! What a heel she must have thought he was. "Oh, man, you thought Sophie was mine, didn't you?"

  She looked confused. "What was I supposed to think, Hunter?"

  A sudden need to make sure she knew and understood his circumstances made him blurt out, "For the record, I'm not remarried or involved, and I don't have any children."

  She lifted her brows, and after a long silence said, "I can't believe Jade had a baby."

  "It wasn't under the best circumstances. She's a single mother and she's been having a rough time of it since delivery. Truth is, she's admitted herself to the hospital for treatment for severe postpartum depression, and I'm Sophie's guardian for at least the next month."

  She looked him square in the face and he noticed a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "All the more reason for you to step down and let me find someone else…"

  "We've gone over that already, Mandy."

  Subtle warmth spread across his chest. When he placed a hand on his shirt, he realized with chagrin that Sophie needed a diaper change. Now.

  "Oh, damn," he said, holding the baby at a distance and letting the overflow drip to the floor. He'd have to send the suit to the cleaners. He was still on a learning curve with diapers—and everything else where his niece was concerned. Apparently he hadn't sealed the diaper tight enough.

  Sophie's eyes opened and she fussed, fisted her hand and shoved it into her mouth. He strode to the nearby table and reached for the diaper bag, then dug inside with one hand while balancing the baby under his other arm, butt out and away from his suit. The diaper bag dropped to the floor. "Damn it."

  From the podium, Mandy shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Here, let me help you out."

  If he didn't love Jade so much, he would never have agreed to take on such a responsibility. What was he supposed to do with a baby? But, through their parents' neglect, the bond between him and his sister had been cemented. He couldn't let her down.

  Mandy approached, picked up the bag, reached inside and tossed him a cloth diaper and some baby wipes. After spreading out the small vinyl-lined diaper-changing pad on the floor, she reached for Sophie, who continued to protest. Mandy gently patted the baby's head to help soothe her. "There, there. We'll get you fixed up in no time so you can go back to sleep."

  The craziest thought occurred to him: he was thankful the baby didn't have a diaper rash—as though it would reflect badly on his parenting skills. All three and a half days of them.

  He couldn't believe he still cared what Mandy thought, or that he was having such a mundane moment with the woman he'd never been able to get completely out of his system. Be careful, he warned himself. She can't be trusted.

  He'd stood still too long, and let things grow too quiet. She glanced up at him with questioning aqua eyes.

  "So you're working toward your PhD, I'm told."

  "Who told you?"

  "Dr. Hersh. He seems very impressed with this study of yours." Maybe she'd thrown herself back into her career and had given up on her baby fantasy?

  She smiled. Sophie fussed again.

  "I think she's hungry," she said. "Did you bring a bottle?"

  He finished wiping his hands and removed his soiled jacket, wishing he could strip off his shirt, too. Mandy had always been so organized. Even now, when it was none of her concern, she seemed to know exactly what needed to be done. "Uh, yes. There's a can of powdered formula and a bottle of water to mix it with somewhere in there."

  "You take care of the meal and I'll change her diaper. Did you bring her jammies?"

  "Jammies?" He paused. "Oh, pajamas. Yes."

  "Let me guess. Pink ones?" She smiled briefly and he thought daylight had broken through the night. Her finely pointed features had never ceased to amaze him, and right now the slant of her eyes and the turn of her nose captivated him. Through his eyes, Mandy had always been beautiful, and it appeared she'd only gotten better with time. But what was the point of entertaining those thoughts?

  He glanced at his niece on the changing pad. How ironic. Mandy's sudden desire to have a baby had driven them apart. Now a helpless baby was forcing them to drop the past and focus on the "right now."

  He needed to say something. Anything. Now. "Jade has this thing for pink…for such a staunch feminist it's strange…" he mumbled, and fumbled with the can.

  "Pink is just a color, not a political statement." She looked up, a tentative look in her eyes. "She's really a beautiful baby."

  "You think?" Truth was he didn't have a clue how babies were supposed to look.

  "How old is she?"

  "Uh…nine months."

  Mandy kept staring at him, and he felt compelled to fill the silence. "Who'd have thought in a million years we'd be working together again?"

  "If I can finagle it, we won't be working together."

  He finally popped open the powdered formula can. "I told you—it's a done deal," he said. "Baby and all."

  * * *

  Amanda pondered the incongruity of their current situation. When they'd married, they'd agreed to put their careers first and forever. And because she'd worked so hard the stress had caused her to miss a period. The fleeting possibility of being pregnan
t had changed her outlook on babies so drastically she'd known she could no longer agree to a life without children. Even though she hadn't turned out to be pregnant, she'd already made that choice. She wanted a family, not just a degree. But Hunter hadn't budged. "You promised you never wanted children," he had repeated, over and over.

  "Life is certainly full of surprises," she said under her breath now, as she removed the soiled disposable diaper, thinking she couldn't have made up a wilder story if she'd tried. She and Hunter working together while he took care of his niece? She shook her head. "Speaking of surprises, you'll need to actually read my syllabus if you insist on being my mentor."

  He nodded. "I know. And I will."

  "I've got everything broken down day by day," she said, trying her hardest not to think about how wonderful it felt to hold a real live baby in her arms. "Like I said, we'll start with physical examinations tomorrow. I've arranged for two exam rooms on the first floor. You can do the men and I'll do the women." She concentrated on Sophie, cleaning her porcelain fine skin with a moist baby wipe, trying not to succumb to her charm. "We need to get labs drawn and EKGs."

  Back then all she'd wanted was Hunter and a baby…and an advanced degree. Was that too much to ask? And here they were.

  "We'll do stress tests on Thursday, and by Friday we should have our group divided for the physical training portion." If only things could have been different. This could be their baby and they could be working as husband and wife…Where was she now? She didn't dare look into his eyes.

  "Oh, and you'll have to follow the diet while you're involved. I know how you like your double-double cheese-burgers, but that's out of the question for now."

  He nodded while fiddling with the formula can and half-heartedly measuring out a scoop for the bottle. "As far as my eating is concerned, you've got me all wrong. Since Dad died from a stroke I've opted to change the one thing I have control over. My diet."

  "I'm so sorry to hear about your father, Hunter. Did you ever have a chance to work things out?"

  He somberly shook his head.

  Amanda had finished the diaper change and now sat yoga-style. Hunter attempted to join her and almost spilled the formula. His knees were high off the floor and his back was hunched awkwardly. Completely unnatural, and obviously in pain, there he sat. She tried not to think how silly he looked, and almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  Without being asked, Amanda took the scoop from his hands and read the label. Sophie, tired of playing with her toes, rolled over and crawled across the floor.

  Amanda mixed the powdered formula into the water and studied Hunter. Why not state the obvious? "It'll be tough working together." She sighed. "But we're adults, Hunter. And if you insist on staying, I'll just have to get used to it."

  Shaking the bottle, Amanda tried to get Sophie's attention. When the baby noticed, she immediately crawled over and sat. She grabbed the bottle with both hands and stuck it into her mouth. Amanda tried not to react to how cute that was. Glancing at Hunter, she noticed an apathetic glaze in his eyes. Obviously his mind was elsewhere, and he was no more interested in babies today than he'd been when they were married.

  * * *

  It being tough to work together was the understatement of the century. Mandy watched him with her sea-blue eyes and he remembered how he'd never gotten tired of looking at her when they were a couple. Being around her day after day would be torture.

  He wished that things hadn't gone so sour between them. But, like she'd said earlier, life was full of surprises. Like when she'd had a sudden change of heart about wanting babies. Both being young and stubborn to a fault, and compromise being a foreign word, they had foolishly lost everything.

  And here they were.

  She stood up and dusted her hands on her workout pants. His knees cracked when he joined her. Her pants seemed baggy. She clapped her hands together and stared him smack in the face.

  "Have you lost weight?"

  "Did you break your nose?"

  They asked the questions in unison.

  "Yes."

  They shared an awkward moment at having spoken at the same time twice. Eyeing each other suspiciously, they let their respective questions lie for another time.

  Sophie dropped her bottle, crawled between them and slapped at Hunter's pant leg.

  He picked her up. "It's way past her bedtime," he said, letting his gaze linger an extra moment on Mandy's face. Being this close put him off balance. "And I've got an hour's drive home."

  She scratched her cheek and shifted her weight back and forth. "Right. Have you made childcare arrangements?"

  He shook his head. "It's going to be traumatic enough for Sophie not to have Jade around. I can't bring myself to drop her off anywhere with strangers. My medical assistant and I have been working things out at the Mercy clinic."

  She nodded and lifted her chin. "Then we'll just have to do our best to work around Sophie, too, I guess."

  Their eyes locked in benign accord. "Thanks for understanding."

  "No problem," she said, and quickly glanced down. "Jade was my friend, too."

  But as far as Hunter was concerned, he did have a problem. A major problem. The very thought of being around Mandy day in and day out, with all the memories, concerns and longings it would dig up, made the monumental task of single-handedly caring for Sophie feel like a mere stroll in the park.

  CHAPTER TWO

  AMANDA glanced at the clock on the wall of the tightly packed office. Two desks had been crammed into a space that had once been an exam room. She and Hunter would be painfully close in here but would have to make do, since she'd go to any length for the heart study and her article. She could almost touch her dream, and if dealing with her ex-husband and all the baggage he brought with him was the price she'd have to pay to reach it, so be it.

  Amanda had her reasons for advocating diet and exercise to avoid invasive procedures, and she'd put her nursing career on the line for the Mending Hearts Club program. Promoting holistic heart health was the best option, and nothing would stop her from moving forward as planned.

  Not even Hunter.

  Confronting Hunter last night had practically sent her into palpitations, and had come in a close second to the shock she'd felt after her recent diagnosis. Sure, they'd acted mature and civil toward one another, but the emotional storm raging beneath the surface of her carefully orchestrated facade had almost pulled her into its depths in the process.

  Memories steamrollered through her mind. She remembered what a fine doctor he was, and how gentle he could be one moment, as well as how he could become an unsympathetic oaf the next. And she asked herself questions—questions about why they couldn't have handled their dilemma differently, like agreeing to postpone a baby discussion for another time instead of both getting swept up in a temperamental standoff. She'd made the mistake of thinking they were soul mates. That if she'd been the true love of his life he'd have done anything for her. But they'd been young and headstrong. And once the baby bug had bitten Amanda, their future had changed, whether Hunter had been ready to deal with the fact or not.

  A never-ending parade of thoughts had kept her awake most of the night. And a tiny voice still kept wondering if maybe their marriage could have survived.

  She didn't really know Hunter anymore. Their lives and circumstances had evolved, and now they were nothing more than business professionals working on the same project. But he'd made it clear he wasn't involved with anyone. Why would he do that with a mere project partner?

  She stepped outside the second-floor office and tapped on the first door—a makeshift exam room that used to be a supply closet.

  "Mrs. Anderson, are you ready for me yet?"

  Mrs. Anderson was Amanda's second physical of the morning. Two of the male patients who had appointments with Hunter still sat down the hall, in a group waiting room.

  "Yes. Come in." The patient's muffled voice could barely be heard.

  Amanda's eyes drifted to
her watch. He was late—again.

  * * *

  Though Hunter had been nearly a half hour late, due to bad traffic and a fussy baby, he'd made up for lost time. By mid-morning he and Mandy had gotten halfway through the physical examinations.

  Thankfully, Sophie had played contentedly in a portable playpen in one tiny corner of the office. He liked to think the soft and relaxing classical music from his laptop made the difference. Out of desperation he'd put music on in the car on the drive to work, when Sophie had begun to wail shortly after they'd entered the freeway. The noise from her crying had jangled his nerves until his temples had throbbed. When she'd finally quieted down, he'd taken a long and deep breath of relief, though he still suffered from a dull headache.

  From time to time in the office, Sophie let out a shrill noise, or banged a slobbery rubber toy until it squeaked. Over and over. Would he ever get used to being around a kid?

  At the first outburst, Mandy had jumped in her seat and tossed her pen in surprise. He'd bitten back his urge to laugh at her. Yeah, well, get used to it. This is the reality of a baby, sweetheart.

  Mandy looked even more tired than yesterday, as though she'd only gotten a few hours' sleep. Considering all that his guilty conscience had dredged up last night, about what he'd once said or done to Mandy, he'd managed to sleep fairly well. But packing up a child and commuting at the peak traffic hour had put him behind schedule again. Sophie hated being cooped up in a car seat, and made his life miserable with protest. This routine would grow stale quickly, but he'd do it—because he'd committed to Mandy and Dr. Hersh, and he owed them both. He owed it to his father, too.

  Noticing the tension at the corners of Mandy's eyes, he wondered if their being forced to work together was such a good idea after all. Did either of them need to be reminded that they'd once shared a great love and blown it? And now he was dangling the baby she'd wanted all along right before her eyes.