Hot Flash (34 page)

His tiny mouth crunched up in a silent wail, but all I had eyes for was his darling, sweet face.

Babies.

Gotta love ‘em.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO

Dear Miss Storm,

I’m replying to your unseemly inquiry into the marriage of my sister. Sister and her husband are on an anniversary cruise and I am pet- sitting her poodle, Dizzy.

Her mail has piled up and I, quite innocently I might add, went through it simply in case there was an overdue bill, when I came across your letter. Since she is away and unable to answer your missive in the next few days, I have decided to give you the benefit of my years. Although I have never been a Nosey Parker, nor do I give advice, I believe the information I am sharing will be
most
helpful in your case.

My dear, your desperate attempt to find a suitable mate will not do and will likely be deleterious to your health and well being. I am speaking from the Authority of Someone who has assiduously avoided such circumstances.

Naturally, Sister, who was a gently bred woman, has put a brave face on her fifty-odd years of marriage. As a diplomat, her husband is frequently away from home. However, I regret to say one could not help but observe Sister’s precarious state of health when her husband returns from his travels.

I cannot tell you the countless times I have popped over to visit Sister, only to find her slovenly man in various states of undress in
broad daylight
, with poor Sister still in bed, with, her husband informs me, one of her severe headaches.

Imagine my distress when I realized Sister has suffered bouts of severe headaches over the years, always directly linked to her husband’s homecomings. Why, in one instance, I insisted upon checking on her, only to find her in bed, sans nightclothes, red faced, perspiring, and breathing heavily! Despite my protestations that she see a physician at once, Sister insisted she would be back to her normal good health the following day, when, I might add, her husband was scheduled to leave again.

One can see why an Objective Observer would recommend against pursuing matrimony. I pray you will rethink your inclination to seek out a mate.

Most sincerely,

First, let me say, babies rock!

There’s something about cradling a brand-new life in your arms that makes you think about the past, the future, and even the present.

The armful of future potential I held made me wonder about where he’d be heading. What kind of person would he be? Would he be happy? Was I holding a future astronaut or president?

It may seem like a no-brainer to you, but it occurred to me that anything is possible, not just for the baby, but for me, too.

Even at forty flipping years old, I could start over. I, too, could be or do anything if I wanted it enough and worked hard enough—like Stephen dreamed of being an artist and now his dream would soon become reality.

What did I dream of for me?

I dreamed of being a chef, in charge of my own kitchen. I dreamed of my house with the picket fence. I dreamed of finding a man who wouldn’t make me whole, because I dreamed of being whole on my own, but a man who would add substance to my life.

Susan’s newborn baby’s blue eyes reflected back a world of promise. I knew anything could, and probably would happen. That’s the exhilarating thing about the future.

“He’s so beautiful,” I whispered, not wanting to disturb him since he was sleeping so innocently and peacefully.

It didn’t matter if someday he’d have blue and green spiked hair, as long as he’d be happy and find a life of fulfillment.

None of society’s rules matter once life is boiled down to the simplest measure. Will this child be happy?

I eyed Susan who was drowsily watching her new child. Her husband was curled up on the chair/bed, snoring softly, and her gaze would seek him out periodically.

Susan looked happy, complete, and absolutely exhausted.

My mother, however, was in her element. She appeared to be as perfectly dressed as when she’d arrived at her party. Not even a strand of her hair was out of place. My blue dress was crumpled and stained; her white dress was pristine. How the hell did she do it?

I stifled a yawn. It had been a long night.

Connie and Aiden left soon after the baby arrived. Mom’s guests and the security detail departed after viewing the baby through the nursery window, but my dad, Davin, and Stephen were still there.

Sleep was the main thing on my mind as I placed the infant in Susan’s outstretched arms.

“Why don’t you both go get some rest?” Susan whispered.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Mom said briskly. “You’ve got my phone numbers in case you need anything. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“Thanks.”

We took turns kissing Susan and the baby goodbye, then headed to the waiting room.

“I don’t suppose you’d like to give me another grandbaby,” said my mother as we strolled through the hospital corridors.

“Absolutely not.”

She sighed. “I was afraid so. Maybe Gerald and Mandy—”

“I doubt the world is ready for Weasel-Breath’s progeny. That reminds me. I thought I told you never to introduce him to any of my friends?”

“I couldn’t resist. I adore Mandy and Gerald is exactly her type.”

She had me there. Mandy loves geeks. But my brother? “I don’t think he’s
any
woman’s type.”

“Aren’t you a little
mature
for the sibling rivalry routine? It was cute when you were six, but it’s getting old. Gerald is a wonderful son, just as you are a wonderful daughter.”

I opened my mouth to insult my brother, but then I closed it again. Hadn’t I just been thinking about starting over? My relationship with Gerald was a good place to begin. He wasn’t a bad guy for a techno-nerd. Mandy could do much worse.

“You’re right, Mom. I hope they get married and have dozens of grandchildren for you to dote on.”

“I know you find my attempts to introduce you to a good man annoying, Jill. You have been so sad and had such a rough time of it since Daniel became Stormy. You deserve happiness. Is it wrong of me to want more for you?”

“I wouldn’t want you to be any other way, Mom.” We hugged as we reached the entrance to the waiting area then went through the door. “But I’ve found a good man on my own.”

She raised her eyebrows, which was quite a feat considering the amount of Botox in said brows. “Really?”

“Maybe.” I glanced into the waiting room and I know my expression softened. “I think so.”

I felt wiser, like I’d turned some corner, as I eyed Davin and Stephen. They were both asleep and Stephen’s head was leaning against Davin’s shoulder in a gesture of total trust.

As Dad hugged Mom and led her to the exit, Mom turned back, gestured toward Davin, and gave me a thumbs-up sign. I stood and savored the moment.

Outside the glass doors the first golden streaks of morning dawn glittered the sky. Like Susan’s baby and me, the world was starting a new day.

I took a seat on the other side of Davin and leaned my head on his shoulder, too. He stirred and placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head. “Beautiful baby.”

“He is.”

“Ready to go home?”

I nodded.

He pointed to a nearby table. “Got you some coffee.”

“You’re a genius.” I picked up the paper cup and took a sip of the warm coffee. “Perfect.”

He softly roused Stephen and the three of us gathered our belongings. As we headed through the exit doors, the sun made its full appearance.

When we got back to the apartment, Stephen wearily toddled off to bed.

“I should be heading out,” Davin said. His tuxedo was wrinkled, and he’d removed the cummerbund and tie, but otherwise he looked as handsome as the night before.

Although I should have been exhausted, I was wired with adrenaline from the night’s activities. Holding Susan’s baby had woken me up fully and it would be hours before I could sleep.

During the past twelve hours, I’d undergone an internal shift. I wanted Davin to stay so I could talk it over with him. “Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll scramble us some eggs first?”

“You sure?”

“Stay. I’ll get you a towel.”

He leaned in and gave me a tender kiss and I eagerly returned it. It had been a long night, but his kiss filled me with anticipation. With a soft stroke on my arm, he stepped back and headed to the bathroom.

Once he was settled, I quickly went into my bedroom and changed out of my dress. I pulled on my COOKS DO IT T-shirt and shorts, then entered the kitchen.

It didn’t take long to whip the eggs. I pulled out the skillet I’d been trying to season and grimaced.

I didn’t want this skillet. I didn’t want my life to go on as it had in the past. I needed a new skillet, a totally different type to take into my life of the future. Where anything was possible. Where I could do anything if I wanted it badly enough.

Goodwill wasn’t open yet, so I put the skillet aside. I pulled out a microwave-safe bowl and dumped the eggs in, along with some cheese. I nuked them and they were just coming out of the microwave when Davin wandered into the kitchen and gave me another kiss. It robbed me of breath and I didn’t want it to ever end. But like all good things, it did.

Nuzzling my cheek, he said, “Good morning.”

He’d put his tuxedo pants and shirt back on, but had rolled up his shirtsleeves and several buttons on his shirt were left undone. With just enough beard stubble to give him a rakish look, he looked more appetizing than the jam, and I have to say it looked and smelled delicious.

“I need to grab something from my car,” he said.

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what he had in the car, but maybe he had some spare clothes? While he was gone, I poured orange juice, made some toast, and brought it all into the dining room. I checked on Stephen, but he slept the sleep of innocents, with a huge grin on his face. Most likely dreaming about Paris.

Davin returned from his car, carrying some papers in a file folder. “Breakfast smells great.”

We took seats and Davin placed the folder on the table beside him.

Baby delivering makes you hungry, I realized as I finished off my eggs.

Davin slathered a slice of toast with jam and said, “I figured out how to convince you that I’m the right guy for you.”

“How will you do that?” I asked, thinking he’d probably make some snarky comment about my cooking.

“With this.” He slid the folder across the table to me, then handed me a pencil from my pencil jar on my desk … and my new reading glasses.

I slipped the glasses on the tip of my nose, even though I suspected they made me look like a grandmother and opened the folder. “The Stanway Mental Maturity Test? This is going to convince me? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I’m serious.” He pulled another paper from the folder. “I already took it and this is my score.”

I read the score and it meant nothing to me. “And what does this prove?” He’d totally lost me.

“I’m more mature than you. Take the test and see. You’ll come in younger than me.”

“So what if I do? You’ll still
be
younger than me.”

“Only five years. If you’re worrying about your boobs drooping, I promise not to notice. Take the test.”

“Even if you’re right, and you’re more mature than me, that still doesn’t mean you’re the right guy for me.”

“I’ll be a third of the way there.”

“What about travel?”

“I found a long-lost cousin who lives in Albuquerque. I plan to visit him frequently.”

“What about children? I don’t want any more.”

“And you think I do? I’ve been substitute parent for hundreds of kids during the past fifteen years. The last thing I want is one of my own for me to screw up. Look, Jill, I think you’re setting up roadblocks to keep us from being together. You’re afraid to become involved with
anyone
for fear of being hurt again. Stormy really did a number on you.”

Was he right?

“It’s safer to focus on an imaginary perfect man. I gotta tell you, perfect men don’t exist. Neither do perfect women or perfect relationships. Life doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t work that way.”