Fancy's Baby

by Pamela Bauer

  “Do you want to be on our side?” Patrick asked, waving his finger back and forth between him and his brother. “I have two squirt guns.”

  As if he could read her thoughts, Nick said, “Do you want the boys to tie me up so you can use my face for target practice?”

  “It’s tempting,” Kika answered, using the corner of the towel to dab at her wet cheeks.

  “Are we going to play or not?” Zachary demanded, his super squirter on his hip.

  “I think we’re about done for this evening,” Nick answered. “We need to take Kika inside so she can dry off.”

  Melody had climbed out of the sandbox and was standing off to one side, quietly observing the situation. When Kika caught her eye, the little girl smiled shyly. Kika felt as if someone had brushed a feather across her skin.

  “Pick up after Mel, guys,” Nick instructed his sons. He scooped the toddler up in his arms and started toward the house, gesturing for Kika to follow.

  As soon as Kika stepped inside the house, she could tell no woman lived there. There was a box of cereal on the kitchen table, a pile of newspapers in the corner, and the countertops were littered with dishes. If there was one thing Nick Miller wasn’t, it was neat.

  He didn’t seem the least bit put out that she had caught him in a mess. He set Melody down, then led Kika along a hallway to the bathroom, which was surprisingly orderly. He opened a vanity drawer and pulled out a hair dryer.

  “You can use this.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you think you should dry your clothes?” he asked, his eyes lingering briefly on her still-transparent top. “I have a shirt you could put on.”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” she answered. They didn’t need any added stimulation; there was already enough sexual tension between them.

  He disappeared only to return a few moments later with a denim shirt dangling from his finger. She took it from him and closed the bathroom door. As she peeled off her T-shirt, she realized her bra was also wet. Should she give him that to dry as well? After a short deliberation, she stripped off the satin undergarment and slipped on the denim shirt, buttoning all but the top button.

  “If you show me where the dryer is, I’ll take care of this,” she told Nick when she opened the door again.

  “I’ll do it,” he insisted, reaching for the wet T-shirt.

  Not wanting him to see the bra inside, Kika held the T-shirt in a ball in her fist. “No, I’ll do it.”

  “Don’t be silly,” he said, prying it from her hands.

  They did a little tug of war until finally the satin bra tumbled out of the folded shirt, landing on the floor. Kika felt her face grow warm as she stooped to pick up the undergarment.

  “I’ve been married, Kika. I know what they look like,” he told her with a gleam in his eye.

  She handed him the T-shirt and bra. “Put it on a low setting, please.”

  “Will do,” he said, then disappeared down the hallway. When she went to close the bathroom door again, Melody stood in the way.

  “Want to come inside?” Kika asked, expecting the toddler to turn and run. She didn’t. Shyly, she crept across the bathroom floor. She pulled a wooden stool from the corner and shoved it next to the vanity. Then she climbed up on the stool and leaned her chubby little arms on the counter.

  Kika shut the door and was about to plug in the dryer when she noticed Melody eyeing her partially open purse. Curiosity was written all over her face.

  “Would you like to look inside?” Kika asked.

  Tiny fingers covered with dirt were about to reach for the leather bag when Kika said, “How about if we wash our hands first?” Melody was silent. “Come. I’ll lift you and we can do it together.”

  Again, she didn’t expect the toddler to do as she suggested, but to her surprise, Melody went into her outstretched arms. She was warm and soft and smelled like baby powder. Kika felt a rush of conflicting emotions. She wanted to hold this precious little girl, yet she felt awkward at the same time.

  She twisted the faucet handles, sending a stream of water cascading over two large and two small hands. When she would have squirted a dab of liquid soap on Melody’s hands, the toddler protested. Kika soon discovered the reason why. Melody wanted to get her own soap. She could push down the pump handle on the dispenser and took great pleasure in doing so.

  When hands had been soaped, rinsed and dried, Kika set Melody on the vanity top with her purse in front of her. Then she plugged in the hair dryer.

  With a practiced ease, she used her fingers to fluff up her hair as she moved the dryer over her blond tresses. Melody watched, the purse no longer the object of her attention. Occasionally, Kika would aim the hot air at the toddler, who would giggle at the sensation.

  A pounding on the door had Kika shutting off the dryer and twisting the knob. Nick stood in the hallway.

  “Is Melody in there?”

  “Umm-hmm. She’s right here.” She opened the door completely so that he could see his daughter.

  “Come on, Mel. We need to leave Kika alone,” Nick said, reaching for her.

  But she didn’t want to leave. She snatched her hand away from his and shook her head, grunting in what Kika had come to recognize as a “no.”

  “It’s all right. She can stay,” Kika told him. “I’m almost done.”

  Without a hairbrush to tame her blond tresses, Kika knew she resembled a wild woman. And from the way Nick was looking at her, he must have thought the same thing.

  “I’ll wait in the other room.”

  Kika nodded, then finished with the hair dryer. When she was done, she applied a light dusting of powder on her cheeks and a thin covering of gloss on her lips. Seeing Melody’s fascination with the process, she took her makeup brush and gently stroked the tiny cheeks. Melody giggled.

  When Kika was finished, she took Melody by the hand and went to look for Nick. She found him in the kitchen, shoving toys into a closet. When he saw her, his eyes darkened appreciatively.

  “Would you like something to drink while you wait?” he asked. “We’ve got lemonade, fruit juice, soda....”

  “Lemonade would be nice,” she answered, sitting down on the chrome-and-vinyl chair.

  “What about you, Mel? Do you want some lemonade?” Nick asked his daughter.

  She nodded, then, to Kika’s surprise, held out her arms, indicating she wanted to be lifted onto her lap. Nick’s face mirrored Kika’s own shock.

  “Here, Mel. You have your own chair.” He was about to reach for her, but Kika stopped him.

  “It’s okay. She can sit with me.” She was rewarded with a smile from the toddler. Again, conflicting emotions tore at Kika’s heart. She wanted to cherish this little girl. The intensity of her feelings frightened her. She knew it was foolish to think that she could be a mother to any child.

  Nick looked as uneasy as she felt. He took a red plastic pitcher from the refrigerator and set it on the table. “I’ll get you a glass,” he said a bit gruffly.

  “What about Melody?”

  He went to the cupboard and pulled out a cup with two handles. He poured a small amount of lemonade into it. Melody gulped it down, then held up her empty cup for Kika to refill.

  Nick continued to clean the kitchen, occasionally looking at the two of them seated at the table. Finally, Kika broke the silence. “Nick, if you don’t want me here, just say so.”

  He stopped putting things away and stared at her for several moments. Then he came over to the table and took the chair beside her, laying his arm across the back of hers, his other arm on the table.

  “I do want you here. I love the way you look seated at my kitchen table wearing my shirt.” His voice had a huskiness to it that made Kika want to reach out and touch him.

  She didn’t need to, because he touched her first. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. Kika’s insides threatened to dissolve. She had to look away from his penetrating gaze or risk doing something she knew she shouldn’t do.


  “Do you know what it does to me to see you sitting here in my shirt when I know that you have nothing on underneath?”

  Kika’s whole body grew warm. He hadn’t released her hand and she could feel his other one on her shoulder. Had he been kissing her the moment couldn’t have been more erotic.

  Just when she thought he was going to, he asked, “Why did you come over tonight?”

  Kika realized now that it hadn’t been to thank him for letting his daughter audition; that had just been an excuse. What she really wanted was to be with him. To be in his arms. To feel his lips on hers.

  Before she could answer, however, there was a knock on the back door. It was Annabelle.

  “I brought you some homemade jam,” she said as she stepped into the entry way. Because the table and chairs were in an alcove of the kitchen, she didn’t immediately notice Kika.

  When she did, her smile disappeared. Actually, her mouth dropped open in horror.

  Kika could see that the woman had obviously misread the situation. Not that she blamed her. With Nick’s oversize denim shirt hiding her shorts, it looked as if she was wearing nothing else. And then there was her hair. The way it stood on end, anyone might have thought she had been romping around on a bed.

  Obviously, that was exactly what Annabelle thought. “Oh! You’re not alone.”

  “No, Kika’s here,” Nick confirmed.

  There were several more moments of awkward silence, then Annabelle said, “Should I make some tea?”

  “I’m not sure I have any,” Nick answered.

  “Yes, you do. I left some the other day,” Annabelle told him, moving over to the cupboard. “I bet there’s a teakettle somewhere in here. Every house has one.”

  Not mine, Kika wanted to declare boldly, but she decided to hold her tongue. Feeling the need to justify her presence, she explained, “I stopped by to thank Nick for signing Melody up for the audition.”

  Annabelle slammed the tea kettle down on the burner. “What did you say?”

  Too late Kika realized that Nick hadn’t told his mother-in-law the news. She could see she had made a mistake by the look on Annabelle’s face.

  “I thought we agreed that wasn’t a good idea.” Annabelle looked to her son-in-law for an explanation.

  “I think Melody will do just fine,” he said reassuringly.

  Annabelle stood speechless, staring at him with a look of betrayal on her face. However, she didn’t lose her voice for long. “How can you do this to her? Melody’s not like other children. She’s special. Do you really want her to be under those bright lights and have a camera following her around?”

  “It’s only one commercial,” Nick said patiently.

  Annabelle harrumphed. “It’s show business,” she said with distaste. “I can’t believe you’re going to do this. What did this woman do to make you change your mind?”

  It was at that point that Kika felt it was best to leave the room. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll check on my clothes.” She set Melody down on the floor as she stood.

  “Come sit on Grandma’s lap,” Annabelle said as Kika started to walk away.

  Melody, however, had other ideas. She ran after Kika, tugging on the tail of the denim shirt. Kika gave Nick a helpless look.

  He looked as though he wanted to grab Melody himself, but to her surprise he said, “It’s okay. She can go with you, if you don’t mind.” There was a plea for understanding in his eyes.

  “No, it’s all right,” she answered, taking the little girl by the hand. As she left she could hear Annabelle saying, “Do you think it’s wise to have a woman sitting in your kitchen with nothing on but a shirt—your shirt—when you have young children in this house?”

  Kika didn’t hear Nick’s answer. She made herself scarce in the laundry room for several minutes, talking to Melody. When the dryer finally stopped Kika put her clothes back on, then went back to face the dragon—which was how she was coming to view Annabelle.

  When she entered the kitchen, however, the postmistress was gone. Nick was scooping out chocolate ice cream for Patrick and Zachary, who sat at the table.

  “You want some ice cream, Kika?” Patrick asked when she entered the room.

  “No, but I bet Melody does,” Kika answered.

  The toddler ran to her high chair and held her arms out to Kika.

  “She wants you to put her in her chair,” Patrick explained. “I’ll get her spoon.” He walked over to a drawer while Kika settled Melody in her chair. Feeling a bit awkward standing around doing nothing, Kika asked Nick, “Can I help?”

  “I’m fine,” he answered rather abruptly.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was angry. The question was, with her or with Annabelle? As much as Kika wanted it to be his mother-in-law, she had the uneasy feeling that she had brought the scowl to his face.

  In silence, he gave each of his children a dish of ice cream. The only chatter came from the boys, who were still talking about the water fight.

  When Nick made no attempt to speak to her, but turned his attention to loading glasses into the dishwasher, Kika said, “I should probably get going.”

  She waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she knew it was best to leave. She picked up her purse and headed toward the door.

  “I’m sorry about mentioning Melody’s audition like that,” she apologized as she passed him. “I didn’t know you hadn’t told Annabelle.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  She paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He glanced at his children, then nudged her toward the entry, where they wouldn’t be heard. “What is it with you Hollywood people? Isn’t it enough that I’m bringing Melody in for the audition? Do you have such a big ego that you have to gloat over your accomplishments?”

  “First of all, I’m not Hollywood. And secondly, I wasn’t gloating,” she declared hotly, her voice an angry whisper.

  He made a sound of disbelief. “You took great pride in telling Annabelle that you had won.”

  “I didn’t win anything!” she exclaimed. “Look, I’ve said I was sorry. I honestly didn’t know you hadn’t told her.”

  Despite his anger, she could see that same gleam in his eye that had been there earlier when he had almost kissed her. She wanted to be cool toward him, but the sight of that little lock of hair hanging down over his forehead and the blue of his eyes wouldn’t allow it.

  “What kind of person do you think I am?” Her eyes begged for understanding.

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “One who’s too good-looking for words. That’s what the problem is.”

  “Now I need to apologize for my looks?”

  He didn’t answer, but stared at her. Kika thought she could almost hear the wheels clicking inside his head as a mental debate went on.

  She didn’t want to argue with him. “I think it’s time I go.” She was about to step out the door when he stopped her by placing a hand on her arm. “Why did you come over here tonight?”

  “Right now I’m asking myself that same question,” she murmured as she left.

  * * *

  SLEEP WAS NOT going to happen, Nick decided as he glanced at the digital clock next to his bed. It was one-fourteen. He supposed he could get up and take another cold shower. He knew, however, that that would not make him forget Kika Mancini.

  He turned on the lamp and reached for the murder mystery on his nightstand. He had read for about an hour before he had turned off the light and he still wasn’t done with chapter one.

  That was because he couldn’t get the picture of Kika in his denim shirt out of his mind. When she had handed him her wet T-shirt and the bra had fallen to the floor, he’d had all sorts of vivid images of what lay beneath his denim shirt. Although Beth had been taller than Kika, her bras were smaller.

  He groaned. That was what this was all about: Kika’s physical attributes. He was responding to her in a way any man would respond to a sex
y woman.

  It was all physical, he told himself. He was an adult male who hadn’t been with a woman for a very long time. It didn’t mean that he needed to get emotionally involved with Kika. It just meant that nature was letting him know he was alive.

  But that bothered him. He didn’t want to have any feelings—physical or emotional. He wanted to be numb. The day Beth died he had decided that fate had destined he would live without the comfort of a woman at his side.

  After all, Beth had died because of him. He couldn’t possibly enjoy himself with another woman. And he had nearly made the mistake of thinking that he could.

  No more. Kika Mancini would be gone in a short while and he would forget that his body had ached for hers. He’d forget the way she looked holding Melody on her lap. He would forget the way her smile made him want to reach out and stroke her hair.

  Even though everything about her turned him on, he had no room for any woman in his life. He flipped open the paperback and read the grisly details of a serial murder. It didn’t help. He still saw Kika sitting in his denim shirt at the kitchen table with Melody on her lap.

  CHAPTER TEN

  AFTER THE EPISODE at the Miller home, Kika expected that Melody wouldn’t be at the audition. Kika hadn’t seen Nick since the evening he had dumped a bucket of water on her head...and that suited her just fine. She had been thinking about the man far too often in the past week, when what she needed to focus on was her work.

  She had spent the weekend completing arrangements for the audition, checking on last-minute details with the film crew and working with Wendy to make sure everyone was aware of the time schedule.

  By the time the toddlers began arriving at the school gym, a black velvet curtain provided the backdrop for a set that consisted of two rockers—one adult-size and one child-size. Wendy had each of the parents fill out an application and a consent form, then she sent them to Bob, a photographer who took an instant photo of the child, which Wendy attached to the application. Next Kika conducted the interview, which was videotaped—a familiar procedure, since she had already conducted thousands of interviews in Minneapolis.

  If Kika thought moving the auditions to Tyler would make them less stressful, she was wrong. As had happened whenever she worked with small children, there were countless delays with the taping. A child would have a temper tantrum, one would need a diaper change, another one wouldn’t sit still long enough to get a picture taken. Then there were those who cried during the entire process.