Baby In My Arms

by Madeline Harper

  Ben looked over at her with a grin. “Glad you decided on the ‘Bette Midler.’ It’s the very last look anyone would expect from you.”

  “I really liked the ‘Princess Di’—”

  “Too sedate.”

  “And the ‘Ivana Trump’ was a bit much.”

  “The ‘Dolly Parton’ wasn’t bad.”

  “Too big. But I love these curls. Too bad you can’t see Hedrick until tomorrow,” she commented.

  “I was lucky to get an appointment so quickly. His secretary softened at the word adoption. Said she’d work us in. It seems Hedrick has a tender spot for adoptive couples.”

  “Don’t you think that’s significant?”

  “It could be. Okay, Bette, let’s get you a new wardrobe.”

  The department stores were mobbed with shoppers taking advantage of pre-Christmas sales, filling the aisles and crowding the dressing rooms.

  “I can’t take this, Ben,” Kate decided. “Maybe I can cut my hair, wear the cap, roll up a pair of your jeans and pretend I’m a teenage boy.”

  “A boy?” Ben shook his head. “Never. Let’s look for a small boutique with nothing on sale.”

  “Where I’ll pay a fortune.”

  “It’s up to you, Kate. Crowded dressing room or big money.”

  “I’ve had all I can take. Let’s go for the big-money chic boutique.”

  As it turned out, Shirl’s Boutique wasn’t all that expensive—and it certainly wasn’t chic. But they were the only customers, and Shirl, a heavy woman dressed in black with an abundance of eye shadow, gave them a warm welcome.

  “You just have a seat here,” she advised, maneuvering Ben to a comfortable love seat and finding a baby-sitter for Amanda. “Carlene!” she called out. “Come and get this baby. You’re not doing anything but watching TV. Give her some sherbet from the fridge back there. The baby can eat sherbet, can’t she?”

  Kate hesitated. Could she? She glanced at Ben, who nodded. “That would be fine, but I don’t want to inconvenience—”

  “Carlene’s only watching a soap opera. It’s no trouble, hon.”

  A skinny teenager appeared, sighing dramatically at the interruption. Seeing Amanda she brightened and held out her arms. The baby went to her without hesitation. Everyone seemed to have a better handle on what Amanda wanted than she, Kate thought as Carlene disappeared into the back with the happy baby.

  “When a woman’s shopping, she needs to concentrate and not worry about her kid. Now what can I do for you, honey?”

  “I need a couple of outfits, one casual, one business, and everything that goes with them—from top to toe, inside and out.”

  “We’ll start inside.” Shirl decided, hauling out an armful of what was obviously her kind of lingeriefilmy, lacy and showy—and leading Kate to a dressing room.

  To her surprise, Kate felt sensuous and a little erotic as she chose half a dozen pairs of high-cut bikini panties and two bras that were more lace than elastic. Not her thing at all, but what the hell, she decided. It was time for a new look. She might as well start at the skin.

  After settling on a fleecy, navy-blue warm-up and a couple of turtle-necked sweaters, Kate returned to the dressing room with a few choices in the dress-forsuccess category, including a black pantsuit that she figured would be the one.

  Until Shirl appeared in the doorway with a vivid green outfit. “Hon, this looks just like you. It’ll be perfect with your hair, whatever the color,” she added with a wink.

  “You can tell it’s—”

  “Not your natural color, but it’s lovely.” She puffed up a little, proud of spotting a dye job. Kate kept her smile to herself. If Shirl only knew!

  “Now try this on. It’ll be sensational.”

  Obligingly, Kate slipped on the skirt and buttoned up the long jacket, which stopped just an inch short of the skirt’s hemline. “I don’t know….”

  “A very popular look,” Shirl assured her, “long jacket, short skirt—”

  “Very short skirt,” Kate said. “Too short.”

  “Hon, that’s the style, and you’ve got great legs. Flaunt ‘em.”

  “No, I—”

  “Let’s ask your husband. He’ll agree.”

  “No, that’s not necessary.”

  “Oh, I bet he’s the kind who likes to keep his wife under wraps,” Shirl said in a whisper.

  “No, that’s not it. I mean he’s not like that.” What in the world was she trying to say? He’s not my husband! She kept her mouth shut.

  “Then let’s show him,” the ebullient Shirl announced as she took firm hold of Kate’s arm and led her from the dressing room. “Hey, hon, do you like your wife in this outfit?”

  Ben was waiting on the sofa—keeping an eye on Amanda, who was busy smearing herself with sherbet in Shirl’s small office—and listening to the women’s conversation.

  “We need a man’s point of view,” Shirl announced. “Now I don’t want to prejudice your decision, but I have to tell you how much I like your wife in this outfit.”

  Ben stood up. “I’ll be glad to cast my vote-whether with you or my wife….” Ben slowly walked around Kate, his eyes roaming her body. The color was terrific, an emerald green that brought out the lights in her eyes. He could only imagine how sensational the outfit would look with her wonderful red hair.

  The jacket fit snugly over her round breasts and the skirt was short, very short, with a daring little kick pleat that caught his eye. He’d been right earlier. She would never be mistaken for a boy.

  “I told Shirl the skirt was too short—”

  Ben shook his head.

  “The look too unprofessional—”

  He disagreed again.

  “It’s not appropriate for the office, Ben.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “You look great.” He let his eyes consume her once more, this time without the pressure of making a critical decision. Just looking. And enjoying. The remembrance of their kiss flashed into his mind. He’d done it to tease her, but he’d ended up surprising himself. The warmth of it still lingered.

  He realized he was staring and quickly slipped back into his familiar teasing mode. “Especially with those boots. Short skirts and high-heeled boots—that’s very sexy, darling.”

  Kate gave him a withering look.

  “My wife will take it,” he told Shirl with a smile that was all innocence.

  “No, I—”

  “It’ll be great for the office party, darling,” he continued, a devilish glint in his eyes.

  “Two against one,” Shirl said happily.

  Kate fled to the dressing room. “No fair ganging up.” She stripped off the suit and handed it to Shirl.

  “Well?”

  “Wrap it,” she said. “Even though I’ll be embarrassed to wear it. My thighs are so—”

  “Your thighs are fine. What I wouldn’t give for ‘em. But if you’re worried…” Shirl hurried out to return moments later with an armful of color—hot pink tights, striped leotard, even a matching headband.

  “Workout clothes, all in your size. What do you think?”

  “Wrap ‘em,” Kate said. “I even know of a spa where I can work out.”

  “I’ve got shoes, too, hon.”

  “Wrap ‘em,” Kate repeated.

  “THAT WAS actually fun,” she admitted two hours later as they dragged themselves to the car, loaded with clothes, toys and diapers for Amanda. “I can’t believe I said that,” she added. “I usually hate shopping. But the baby stuff was so cute. I understand why grandparents get hung up on buying for kids.”

  “Does Amanda have any grandparents?” Ben asked as he strapped the baby into her car seat.

  Kate stopped to think. “I know Libby’s parents aren’t living, but I’m not sure about Derek’s. I guess I should look into that. Anyway, no one stepped forward when I got custody. If there were relatives, and they’d wanted the baby, wouldn’t they have just said so instead of trying to kill me?” she asked. “I wasn
’t exactly fighting for custody.”

  “That’s true, but you never know how people think. There could be someone out there who’s obsessed and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

  “Then we have a real problem, don’t we?” Kate asked. “It’s impossible to predict what a crazy person’s going to do.”

  “If we can’t predict it, there’s nothing we can do about it,” he said with what she thought was a kind of illogical logic. “So don’t worry. Now, what’s next on your agenda?”

  “There’s so much to think about. I wish we could just home in on one thing—like Brownley. If only he’d been at the mall.”

  “But he wasn’t. You went back to the UC booth half a dozen times. Brownley was a no-show. So we move on to the car repair.” He handed her the cellular phone. “Call the shop.”

  It was a frustrating call. “They haven’t even gotten to my car. Can you believe that? Maybe this afternoon, they say. I won’t hold my breath. But they tell me to call back at six.”

  “You could have it towed to another garage,” he suggested.

  “Where I’d have to start all over. No, let’s leave it there and pick up a newspaper.”

  “A newspaper?” He looked over at her as he edged out of the parking lot.

  “I have to find an apartment for me and Amanda.”

  “Hold off on that. You need wheels first.”

  “I guess.” She leaned back in the car seat. “Maybe I’m just being a fool to worry. Maybe I should take Amanda and go home.”

  “You’re not being foolish. It was just yesterday that someone shot at you—”

  “Yesterday? It seems like years ago,” Kate murmured in an exhausted voice. “It probably seems even longer to you. Sorry to tie up your life like this.”

  “Like I said, Kate, it’s only been a day, and I didn’t have anything better to do. There were no good ball games on TV,” he added with a grin. “But we do need to hang out in Denver until your car’s ready. Got any suggestions?”

  “Well, I bought a new exercise outfit….”

  “Don’t look at me.”

  “Are we anywhere near the Willowdale complex?”

  “Not far. What does that have to do with exercise?”

  “Sky-High Spa is located at Willowdale. I could go there, pretend to be checking it out for possible membership—and look for Coral. Or at least ask questions about her.”

  “What about your little friend?” He nodded toward the back seat. “What are your plans for Amanda?”

  The baby was napping, lulled by the movement of the car.

  “Oh, yes. Well…maybe I can take her with me. Some spas have nurseries….”

  “Or you could check her with your coat,” Ben commented.

  “All right, all right. I know I’m not the world’s best mom,” she said, “but you have to remember that I’m new at all this.”

  “Understood,” he said. “Just don’t forget the baby!”

  She scrunched down in the seat, somewhat diminished as he navigated the traffic. “Where are we going?”

  “Where else? To the spa.”

  “But you…Amanda—”

  “We’ll hang out together. Maybe find a bar and watch a little wrestling.”

  “A bar? Wrestling? You can’t—” She realized that he was putting her on. “Thanks, Ben,” she said. “I really would like to see inside of Sky-High, and since we’ve got time to kill…”

  “And since you need to work on your thighs.”

  Kate groaned. “Did you hear everything we said in the dressing room?”

  “We Native Americans have ears like foxes, haven’t you heard?”

  WHILE BEN TOOK Amanda to Willowdale’s skating rink, Kate grabbed her new workout clothes and headed for the spa.

  On her only other visit she hadn’t even been inside and had seen no employees except the janitor, so she wasn’t prepared for the luxury that confronted her.

  The lobby was beautifully decorated with photographic artwork adorning the walls. She crossed the highly polished floors on exotic colorful rugs to the reception desk.

  “Hi, there!” called out a perky receptionist wearing Sky-High Spa’s logo T-shirt and shorts.

  “Hi, there,” Kate returned. She hadn’t meant to mock the girl, but it didn’t matter, because the little blonde seemed totally oblivious.

  “Ready to exercise?” she asked.

  “Well, I’m just…I’m not a member,” Kate said quickly. Don’t let anyone know why you’re really here, she warned herself.

  “We can remedy that.” She picked up a clipboard and pencil. “Name?”

  Kate equivocated as she looked over the brochure. “Do you give tours?”

  “We do better than that. Anytime between now and the new year, we’ll give you three free sessions. Then, after the first of the year, you can make that big commitment.”

  “Hmm,” Kate mumbled.

  “Most people are waiting for January first to get into an exercise program. You’ll be way ahead….”

  Kate realized that this woman already had her signed up and working out. Well, what could it hurt? It would cost her nothing—and give her an opportunity to find out where in the world Coral had gotten to.

  “Now, tell me, do you want to lose weight or tone up—or both?” She glanced at Kate with a look that implied she definitely needed both.

  “Both, certainly,” Kate agreed.

  “That’s the spirit. You won’t be disappointed. SkyHigh is the best. It costs a little more, but you’ll see the difference when you join us. Your name?” she asked again.

  “Kate—” She broke off, remembering Ben’s warning as he let her out in front of the spa. Keep a low profile. Don’t advertise yourself.

  “Kaitlin.”

  “Mmm. Could you spell that, please?”

  Kate did so, following with a last name plucked from the blue, or maybe, she thought, from the great outdoors. “Snow. That’s S-N-O-E,” she said.

  Before she knew it, Kate was signed up, given a temporary ID card and a locker key and sent off toward the lounge.

  She pushed through the brass-decorated double doors and entered a sitting room with sofas, coffee table, television and a sideboard containing herbal teas, decaffeinated coffee and a frosty pitcher of ice water filled with lemon slices.

  “What have I gotten myself into?” she asked aloud.

  At a counter in front of the lockers, workout clothes—T-shirts, shorts and socks—were neatly folded in front of a pretty young woman who asked, “Small, medium or large?”

  “Umm, I have my own things. Is that all right?”

  “Of course, but you’ll need this.” She handed Kate a fluffy white robe. “For later, when you finish your workout and want to enjoy our other amenities—the Jacuzzi, steam room and sauna.”

  “Oh, of course,” Kate said, nodding her thanks.

  “If you hurry, you’ll make Jennifer’s step class.”

  “Jennifer?”

  “Jennifer Kersten, one of the managers.”

  Kate smiled her thanks. If anyone would know about Coral, the manager certainly would.

  In her hot-pink tights and striped leotard, she joined the class beside a middle-aged woman who huffed and puffed her way through the warm-up. Kate put her step down beside the woman’s. Theirs were the only single steps in the aerobic room, where everyone else had stacked two or three—even four.

  Jennifer was tall, probably five foot ten, with short, blond-streaked hair and a well-muscled body that moved like a machine. Kate made it through the warm-up with her and then things got complicated.

  “I’ve never been able to do these turns,” she wheezed to her overweight neighbor, who agreed.

  “Jennifer is…a…killer…isn’t she?” The panting punctuated each word. “Even…tougher than…Mark.”

  “Who’s Mark?” Kate asked.

  “Her husband, the other manager,” she said, panting but holding to the tempo. “You can’t miss him—bald a
nd hunky.”

  “Ladies in the back, keep moving,” Jennifer called out.

  Kate could feel perspiration pooling under her wig, which was going as limp as her muscles. Finally, Jennifer began the warm-down, slow, easy floor movements.

  “I’m Edie,” Kate’s friend declared.

  “Hi, I’m Kaitlin.” She extended a damp hand.

  “And I’m heading for the steam room and then the Jacuzzi. How about you?”

  “In a little while,” Kate replied. She wanted to find out about the managers, Mark and Jennifer. Were they the ones Coral wanted to replace? To learn more, Kate was going to have to hit the machines.

  And were there ever machines—one, she figured, for all six hundred muscles in the body, plus bikes, cross-country skiers, stair climbers, treadmills and some weird things Kate couldn’t identify, like a glassysmooth pad designed for sliding on in quilted shoes, an exercise that had to be coordinated perfectly. Kate stayed away from it as she took her seat on an easylooking leg lift machine.

  “How’s it going?” a voice asked in a silky caressing tone.

  “Umm. Fine.”

  The voice belonged to a lanky, muscled young man, just under six feet with shoulder-length blond hair. Definitely not Mark. He was tanned and sleek, as if he’d just been oiled. His features were delicate, and his pale blue eyes didn’t meet hers directly. The look was one that women at the spa probably found devastatingly attractive.

  But not Kate. She thought about Ben and his strong, chiseled features, his dark piercing eyes and his roguish look that appreciated her so thoroughly, unlike this young man’s clinical appraisal. He seemed to weigh each muscle and molecule and find what was missing. “New to the spa?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’m Kaitlin.”

  “I’m Dylan. Let me take you through the routine.”

  She managed to make small talk and listen to his appraisal of her body before she asked her first question. “Have you worked here long, Dylan?”

  “Long enough.” He counted her leg lifts. “Eight, nine, ten. Two more, eleven, twelve. Good job. Now let’s work on those pecs.”