by Shirley Jump
Vivian stared. “You are like the baby whisperer.”
“Seriously, it was all in this article for first-time moms that I found on the internet. When they don’t want to eat in the middle of a feeding, sometimes they need to be burped. Or just calmed. So I tried both. I read some stuff because I knew nothing before that.” Nick went back to that easy sway, and Ellie’s eyes began to drift shut. “You know, I’ve been thinking...”
When he didn’t finish, she prompted, “About what?”
He lowered his voice, nodding toward a sleepy Ellie. “Well, having a baby at the inn is kind of impractical. Because she’s bound to cry, and guests are bound to complain. And you don’t really have anything to take care of her besides this basket and the stuff Mac and Savannah brought over, which was really only for a temporary stay. You might think this is a crazy idea, but why don’t you and Ellie come and stay at my grandmother’s house with me? My brothers aren’t going to care, I’m sure. Della is returning tomorrow from her vacation, so I don’t have to stay at the inn every night anymore. My grandmother’s house is on the lake, and the only neighbor is like a hundred years old, so the kid can scream at a hundred decibels and no one is going to complain.”
Stay at his house? That was insane. She barely knew him. But then again, any man who researched baby care on the internet for a child he wasn’t even related to had to be from pretty good beans, as one of her favorite foster dads used to say.
“I talked to Mavis earlier tonight, and she said she has an old crib and a car seat we could borrow. Her daughter’s youngest is like three or four now, so she doesn’t need it.”
Cribs. Car seats. All things Vivian hadn’t even thought about after Sammie left. She had some of those things being delivered to a Sammie who wasn’t there to sign for the boxes. Damn it. Her mind had been on work, and when it wasn’t on work, it was on getting Ellie to stop crying. And wondering when the hell Sammie was coming back to live up to her responsibilities.
Yet another sign that she was failing at temporary motherhood. Heck, even a half-decent aunt would have thought of all the things a baby might need and not just thrown a credit card at the list and forgotten about it. While Vivian had been trying to research case precedence in the state of North Carolina, Nick, a total stranger to both of them, had been rounding up stuff for a nursery.
“Maybe I should just call someone to take care of Ellie,” Vivian said. “I’m clearly not cut out for this motherhood stuff.”
“Who are you going to call? You said Sammie isn’t answering your calls. Your mom is no longer alive.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “And I don’t think the Ghostbusters handle this kind of thing.”
Vivian ignored the joke. “Well, there’s nanny services and maybe Sammie has a relative... She is the legal mother, after all. I don’t think the authorities will even let me keep her.”
“You know where the authorities will make Ellie stay until they find that relative, right?”
Foster care. The exact fate Vivian wouldn’t want her niece to suffer. Yes, there were some great foster homes—she’d been in two that were pretty good, out of the seven she’d stayed at—but there were also some terrible ones, and no one could predict what number the dice would land on.
The Langstons had been one of those families who hit seven and eleven. The Stone Gap family had been patient and kind, even though Vivian and Sammie had been dropped off in the middle of the night, with barely a bag of belongings between them. An emergency placement, the social worker said, but from the second they walked into the Langstons, it had never felt like anything other than home.
Ruth Langston opened her door and her arms to the girls, drawing them close and telling them it would all be okay. They’d woken up to cheesy scrambled eggs in the morning and fallen asleep to the sound of birds outside their windows. In between there were games of catch in the yard with John, trips to the ice cream parlor with Ruth, and one all-day shopping trip in Raleigh that had outfitted both girls for the new school year. Every one of the sixty-two days she had spent in the Langstons’ home had been magical.
Then their mother had stayed sober long enough for the judge to return the girls to her care. The day they’d left the Langstons behind had been one of the hardest days of Vivian’s life.
What would Ruth and John do? Would they pawn Ellie off or would they take her into their home and give her the love she so desperately needed?
Ellie had fallen asleep on Nick’s shoulder. Her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. “Maybe I should pay you to be her temporary parent,” Vivian said, only half-joking.
Nick chuckled. “For one, this was a fluke, her falling asleep on me. For another, I have a job, and for a third, I’d make a terrible parent.”
“You’re doing better than me.” Which was depressing to admit.
Nick had a point—how was she going to do this alone? The Langstons had been a team, dividing and conquering everything from laundry to bedtime. But Vivian was only one person, who had a trial looming over her, a workload she would have to ignore to take care of Ellie, not to mention an apartment unfit for setting up a baby in right now. Maybe she could make room for Ellie in the second bedroom where she’d set up a futon for herself, but between the noise and the dust of construction...
“Were you serious about inviting us to stay with you at your grandmother’s house?” The question popped out of Vivian’s mouth before she could think it through.
“Completely.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“The kid has kind of grown on me. And...you look like you could use the help.”
In her experience, few people did anything without expecting something in return. Especially a stranger. So if he didn’t want a favor out of her, why make the offer? “Is this some kind of knight in shining armor complex or something?”
“Is this some kind of ‘I’m too tough to accept help when it’s dropped in my life’ complex or something?”
For some reason, the retort made her laugh. She liked Nick, liked him a lot. And his kiss...well, that had been one of the best kisses she’d ever had, until she’d ruined it by crying. “Okay, maybe you’re right. But that would be imposing too much. I can’t possibly ask you to do that for free.”
He grinned. “Oh, didn’t I tell you my going rate for babysitting?”
She did a quick calculation of her bank account. The renovations were costing her a fortune, but a private nanny wouldn’t be cheap if she went that route instead, and Nick was bound to charge less. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work out something equitable—”
He put his hand on hers and she stopped talking. Simply stopped. Maybe because every time Nick looked directly at her or touched her, she stopped thinking.
“I don’t need money.” He held her gaze and didn’t say anything for a moment, as if weighing his words before they left his mouth. “Until today, my plan was to spend the holidays alone. Avoid people as much as possible, do a good job of Grinching it. But now...that idea doesn’t sound as good as it did this morning. So why don’t you and Ellie stay with me, keep me company with no complications, and we all get what we want.”
“That’s all?” She gave him a side-eye. “Then what was that kiss about?”
“Weakness.” He grinned. “You’re a beautiful woman, and I was mesmerized.”
You’re a beautiful woman. He’d said it twice now. And the way he looked at her... Well, that was no reason to agree to this crazy idea. But then she thought about the weeks she had ahead of her, the insanity of preparing for trial. Ellie did seem to like Nick, and Vivian could probably do a lot of her work from home. And during the hours when she was gone, maybe it would be okay with Mavis and Della for Nick to have Ellie around the inn—although Viv was leery of how that would work out. She didn’t know this Della and Mavis, and didn’t even really know Nick.
“This is going to sound nuts, but I’ve never had a traditional Christmas.” He shrugged. “If you stay with me, it gives me an excuse to hang some lights and make some eggnog and cookies and have the kind of holiday normal people have.”
Vivian had been prepared to say no. To do what she always did and handle the entire Ellie crisis alone. But the scent of the braised chicken from earlier tonight still filled the air, and the idea of a real Christmas, one with lights and presents and a tree, sounded insane...but nice. Like what she and Sammie had had that summer at the Langstons when she was fourteen. A brief peek into a normal life. A family. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I get to pick the tree.” Then she put out her hand and shook with Nick, and told herself she wasn’t making the most insane decision of her life because she was feeling overly sentimental.
* * *
The next afternoon, Nick loaded his pickup truck with the borrowed crib, car seat, enough diapers to cover a family of quintuplets, a bright pink playpen, a giant tub of baby clothes, and an equally giant container of toys, bottles, bibs and a lot of other things he couldn’t have named if you paid him. Vivian had run into work long enough to file the brief, then stopped in at a Walmart and filled a cart with supplies before coming back to help Nick. Mavis shooed him out the door as soon as he finished making a chicken casserole for lunch, and told him she had the place under control for the rest of the day. “We’ve only got two guests checking in tonight. Della and I can take care of things for a few days, just like we did before you came along. You haven’t had so much as an afternoon off since you got here. So go, shoo, and spend time with your baby.”
“It’s not my baby, Mavis.”
“I know that. But the baby doesn’t know.” Mavis’s trademark broad smile spread across her dark caramel face, then her features sobered. “And, if I remember right, you also have one other thing to take care of while you’re at that house.”
That’s what he got for having a late-night conversation with Mavis after the reading of his grandmother’s will. The comfort she’d offered at the time wasn’t worth the price of the ongoing guilt trip about not tending to Ida Mae’s final wishes. “That can wait.”
Mavis pursed her lips. She was a sturdy woman, with a large heart and big arms that tended to hug about everyone she met. “Well, y’all have a good time. And remember, don’t come back until Friday. Della and I can handle things just fine.”
Vivian came out to the porch just then, with Ellie in the basket. She crossed to the truck, opened the back door, then stared at the car seat. “Uh...”
Mavis laughed. “Sweetie, those things just look intimidating. Here, let me show you what to do.” She reached in the basket and picked up Ellie. “Aren’t you just the cutest thing? Next to my grandkids, of course. We’re gonna put you in the car seat, and then you can go for a little ride, okay?”
A minute later, Mavis had buckled Ellie in, talking the whole time, alternating between high-pitched baby talk for Ellie and stern car seat usage instructions for the adults. Nick learned more than he’d imagined there was to know about the hidden car seat latches in his truck’s backseat, crash force, proper buckling and backward-facing baby seats. By the time he and Vivian were in the truck and on their way, facts and figures swam in his head.
“Who knew there was that much to know about a seat?” Vivian said. “Or that they’d be that complicated to operate? I think it’s easier to replace a carburetor than install a car seat.”
“Your sister didn’t own one?”
Vivian shook her head. “Sammie was unprepared for Ellie, pretty much like she’s been unprepared for everything in her life. When she arrived here for our weekend away, she was holding a baby I didn’t even know she had. I don’t even think the friend who dropped her off had a car seat in it. The least she could have done was be smart enough to travel in an Uber that had a car seat already installed.”
“You can do that?”
“Apparently.”
“Man, there’s an app for everything these days.” He took a left, leaving the Stone Gap Inn in the rearview mirror. It felt weird driving away from the place that had been home for the past few weeks.
He glanced across the front seat. The sun streaming through the windows danced off the waves in Vivian’s hair. She had put the front part back with a barrette but left the rest down, and he had the most insane urge to reach out and touch her, to run his fingers through those tresses and draw her against his chest.
For a second, his mind imagined them as a family, heading home from a day at the lake or a trip to the store or whatever it was that normal families did. Then he shook off the feeling and concentrated on the road. They were not a family, and this whole arrangement was far from normal.
“So, changing out a carburetor. You have direct experience with that?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Foster father number five had an auto repair business. That foster mom had a lot of kids—I think there were six of us in a tiny little house—so he’d take some of us to work with him. I wasn’t allowed to stand around useless, so I learned basic car mechanics.”
He chuckled. “You surprise me. Uptight lawyer who can also change the oil and replace a spark plug.”
“I’m not uptight. I’m...dedicated to my job. I have to be. People depend on me.” Vivian buried her nose in her phone, which just solidified Nick’s point, but he held back from saying so. As they drove, Vivian read emails, sent texts and made two phone calls, all during the short ride to Ida Mae’s house. Work Vivian was completely different from barefoot in the kitchen in the middle of the night Vivian. The softness he’d seen last night disappeared, replaced by a harsher, more strident voice and rigid posture.
By the time they arrived, she had her laptop out and was back on the phone. When he parked, Vivian covered the mouthpiece. “Just give me a second. I need to finish this call.”
“Sure.” Nick unloaded the crib, playpen and baby supplies while Vivian stayed with Ellie in the truck. He dug the spare key out of the flowerpot, opened the windows to air out the house, lifted the blinds that had been closed for two months and set up the crib in the spare bedroom. Ida Mae had moved into a downstairs bedroom in the last few months of her life, leaving the upstairs rooms untouched, although as far as he could tell, she’d kept up with the dusting and general cleaning. Three bedrooms, one small enough to serve as the nursery for his father when he was born. The baby furniture was gone, but the pale blue paint had stayed, a perfect accompaniment to the white dresser, white twin bed and white borrowed crib.
After the crib was set up, Nick stepped back and took in the scene. The bright day outside cast dust motes into the air. He could almost hear his grandmother exclaiming about the visitors. About how good it was to have a baby in the house again. People sitting at her dining room table.
Ida Mae had provided the closest thing to a normal, loving home life that Nick and his brothers ever had. The big two-story house seemed deflated, empty, without her gregarious, giving personality. How his father, who was about as warm as a Popsicle, had come from someone so loving and homey, Nick never knew. Either way, he was certain his grandmother would have approved of him inviting Ellie and Vivian to stay. Grady hadn’t minded. Nick had texted him a couple hours ago and asked if they could stay there. Do what you want, Grady had said, I don’t want the house.
Grady had his own issues with the family to work out, while Nick had a few left untended himself. Nick could almost hear his grandmother’s voice in his head. Call your father. Work this out. Now that you’re in the house, you have no excuse not to get that box.
Damn that request. He supposed he could lie to the attorney who had handled the will and say he’d called his father, then the lawyer would cut the check for Nick’s part of the inheritance. The idea tempted him, but the thought of one more lie didn’t. Nick pulled out his cell and dialed the of
fice number for his parents’ firm. He debated calling his father’s cell, but wasn’t so sure Richard would answer.
The automated operator rattled off Richard’s extension. Nick punched it in, took a deep breath and waited while the phone rang once, twice. “Richard Jackson.”
The deep timbre of his father’s voice surprised Nick. He’d expected voicemail. No, hoped for voice mail. “Dad, it’s Nick.”
Silence. “I’m in the middle of something. I’ll call you back.”
Nick already knew there’d be no return call. He’d been down that road before with his father. “Grandma left you something at the house. She wants me to give it to you.”
“Just put it in the mail.”
“Grandma said I have to do this in person.” She’d mentioned that three times in her letter to Nick. “It’s part of the terms of her inheritance.”
Richard scoffed. “Leave it to my mother to put something stupid like that in her will. Listen, I’m not going to contest it. Just mail me the box, and we’ll pretend we abided by her request.” Before Nick could reply, his father added, “Is that all? I have work to do. I’m sure you have my address still.”
Then the call ended. Nick stared at the black screen of his phone and cursed his grandmother’s request. He loved Ida Mae, but what had she been thinking?
If his father wanted that box, he could come here. Nick was through doing Richard’s bidding.
Nick went back out to the truck, to find Vivian still in the same place he left her. Working. Of course. Had he expected anything else? The sour mood brought about by the phone call with Richard deepened. He gestured toward the house. “I have the—”