First Lady (32 page)

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Authors: Susan Elizabeth Phillips

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BOOK: First Lady
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The baby crawled up her body as if it were the yellow brick road, sprawled across her face, and reached for the brass headboard.

“Agile little thing, isn’t she?”

Nealy shifted the baby’s butt enough to free her face. “This is terrible!”

“Could be a lot worse. At least that diaper’s not loaded.”

“That’s not what I mean. We’re naked!”

Mat slid his hand around Nealy’s thigh. “Son of a gun. You’re right.”

“Don’t you dare try to be funny about this.”

“Tell me we’re not back to that thing about traumatizing her for life.”

“We’re naked. This bedroom reeks of . . . well, you know what I mean.”

He regarded her blankly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Monkey business, that’s what!”

“Monkey business? Is that what you call some of the best sex either one of us is ever going to have?”

“Really?” The soft, vulnerable look made him wish he’d kept his big mouth shut, but his brain always woke up a few minutes after his body.

The Demon grabbed a handful of Nealy’s hair and beamed down at her. Nealy’s expression grew troubled again, but the baby kept smiling. Then she started this soft little babble, talking to Nealy as if she could understand every word. Nealy’s face began to glow in a way that made Mat’s insides cramp. This whole thing—the baby in their bed, Nealy curled next to him, the memory of last night—it was all too much for him.

He slipped out from under the covers and grabbed his shorts from the floor. Nealy alternated between staring at him and trying to spare the baby the sight of a buck-naked, fully erect man.

The Demon was making more happy sounds, giving Nealy the adoration she normally bestowed on him. Apparently the baby believed she had him right where she wanted and was now free to move on to her next conquest. Not far from the truth.

She dropped her head and pressed her wet mouth to Nealy’s chin. For a moment Nealy just lay there, then she cradled the baby’s head. At the same time, her mouth set in this stubborn line that told him she wanted to cry, but wouldn’t do it.

He forgot about snapping his jeans. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s just so perfect.”

He gazed down at the baby, who had now plopped her thumb in her mouth and stretched full length on top of Nealy. He started to make some wiseass remark about how nobody could call the Demon perfect, but the words stuck in his throat because they looked so beautiful lying there together.

Then he started seeing visions of hair bows, Barbies, tampons, and thirty-six shades of lipstick. This was not what he wanted! He needed to get out of this room—he felt claustrophobic—but he couldn’t leave with Nealy working so hard at keeping her eyes dry.

He scooped up the baby and sat on the side of the bed. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

For a moment she didn’t say anything, and then the words came in a rush. “I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. It’s . . . When I was young . . .” She struggled to hold it back, but couldn’t. “There was a photograph taken of me when I was sixteen. In Ethiopia, with a baby who was starving . . .”

“I remember.”

“The baby died, Mat. Right after the picture was taken. When I was still holding her.”

“Oh, sweetheart . . .”

“And that wasn’t the end. There have been so many since then. Babies in terrible agony, suffering from starvation, from unspeakable diseases. AIDS babies. Crack babies. You can’t imagine . . .”

As it all spilled out of her, he understood the price she’d paid for those photographs of America’s immaculately groomed, perfectly poised First Lady holding an afflicted infant. It was no wonder she believed she was somehow cursed.

“I couldn’t stop. There’s so much need. But I . . . I started thinking of myself as the—” Her voice broke. “The Angel of Baby Death.”

He put the Demon on the floor and drew her against his chest. “It’s all right, sweetheart . . . It’s all right . . .” He stroked her bare, soft back, whispered goofy stuff into her ear, did everything he could to take away the hurt.

The Demon didn’t like being set aside, and it wasn’t long before she started to yelp. Nealy got embarrassed and pulled back from him. “This is silly. I shouldn’t have—”

“Just shut up,” he said gently. “You’re entitled to a couple of well-earned neuroses.”

She gave a watery smile. “That’s what this is, isn’t it?”

He nodded. The Demon’s screams grew louder. Nealy frowned and he could feel her growing agitated. “She’s really upset.”

He gently caught her chin and turned her head toward the furious infant. “Look at her, Nealy. Just look at her. She’s screaming her lungs out, but there’s not a single tear in those eyes. She’s just testing her limits.”

“Yes, but—”

“All babies aren’t suffering. I know you understand that in your head. Just try to feel it in your heart.”

He picked up the Demon, and as he set her in Nealy’s arms, he knew there was no bromide he could offer that would undo all those years of trauma. Button would have to do the job on her own.

 

Lucy still hadn’t returned by the time he and Nealy had finished eating a breakfast neither of them wanted. Although she’d taken the dog with her, she’d left all her things in the motor home, so he knew she planned on coming back. He tried to figure out how he was going to deal with her when that happened.

He and Nealy hadn’t talked much since they’d left the bedroom. She kept making busywork for herself so she could pretend she was tough as nails and hadn’t lost her dignity getting teary over the Demon. He wanted to take her back upstairs and start all over again, but the baby was in the way.

Both of their heads came up as they heard a dog bark. Nealy grabbed the Demon and followed him outside.

Lucy was approaching the front porch with Squid on a new leash. She froze as she saw him standing there.

He glowered down at her. “You’re so busted.”

That small head came up, those little shoulders shot back, her top lip trembled. “Big deal. I don’t care.”

He shoved his hand toward the garage. “Go in there and find some garden tools. I want every weed pulled from that flower bed in the back. And make it snappy.”

She stared at him. “You want me to weed that dinky little flower bed?”

“You got a hearing problem?”

“No. No!” Delighted that she had escaped so easily, she ran to the garage.

Nealy regarded him with amusement. “You’re one tough hombre. That’s going to take her . . . oh, maybe an hour.”

He smiled back at her. “She was responsible for one of the best nights of my life. It’s hard to get too mad at her.”

She nodded. And then she said the strangest thing. “Thanks.”

He was standing there basking in her approval and grinning like a fool when a truck towing a silver Airstream drew up in front of the house.

He stared at it. He’d seen lots of Airstreams recently, but there was something familiar about this one.

The door of the truck opened and two badly dressed senior citizens climbed out.

No
. It wasn’t
possible
!

“Yoo-hoo! Mat! Nell!”

Nealy gave a delighted squeal as Bertis and Charlie Wayne charged up the sidewalk.

He sagged against the porch post. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse . . . First it had been the kids . . . then he’d added a wife and a dog. Next had come a house in Iowa . . . then a Ford Explorer.

Now Grandma and Grandpa had shown up.

 
17
 

C
HARLIE SHOOK HANDS
with Mat while Bertis hugged Nealy and tweaked Button’s toes. Nealy still couldn’t believe they were here. “How did you know where to find us?”

“Didn’t Lucy tell you? She gave us the address just before you left. What a dickens that child is.”

Just seeing Bertis made Nealy feel better. Last night had turned her world upside down. She’d expected to enjoy making love with Mat, but she hadn’t expected that great rush of feeling to last.

It was hard to remind herself this was only a fling. If she was lucky, they would have another one or two nights together, but then it would end. Sometime in the distant future when it wouldn’t be so painful, she could see herself taking out the memories to examine while she was standing in a receiving line or listening to an overly long speech. The idea depressed her. Bertis and Charlie had arrived at a perfect time.

“Lucy’ll be thrilled to see you.” She shifted Button to her hip. “She’s working out back right now.”

“It’s good to keep them busy.” Bertis slipped on her reading glasses, peered at Button, and wiped a speck from the baby’s chin. “Since we were heading west anyway, we decided to stop by and check on you.”

Charlie stretched to ease a kink from his back. “We’re going to Yosemite, always wanted to see it. But we aren’t in any hurry, and Bertis was worried about Lucy.”

Bertis let her reading glasses fall back onto their chain. “We thought it might be hard on her finally having to face her grandmother’s death.”

Mat’s eyes narrowed. “You knew about her grandmother?”

“Oh, she told us all about her.” She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “Imagine a fifty-three-year-old woman marrying one of her students. Of course, I didn’t say what I was thinking to Lucy.”

Mat’s jaw was starting to twitch. “You knew about Nico, too?”

“See, Charlie, I told you his name wasn’t Nick, but you always argue with me.”

Charlie scratched his head. “What kind of name is Nico?”

“That’s not the point. The point is that I was right and you were wrong.”

“Which is a good thing because if it ever turns out the other way around, I’ll probably have that heart attack you’re always warning me about.”

She gave his hand a fond pat, then turned to study Mat. “You and Nell sure have been busy these last few days.”

Mat smiled. “Things happen.”

Nealy couldn’t figure out why everybody was looking at her. “What?”

Mat regarded her with a combination of amusement and warning. “I think Bertis and Charlie have noticed your recent pregnancy.”

Nealy’s hand flew to her waist. She’d been so surprised by their appearance that she’d completely forgotten. Two days ago when they’d last seen the Waynes, her stomach had been flat. She regarded them with dismay. “Oh. I . . .”

“Why don’t you come inside?” Mat walked up the steps to the porch, not looking all that upset about having them around. “I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee.”

“Good idea.” Bertis bustled after him. “Charlie, go get those Jiffy blueberry muffins I made this morning.” She regarded Nealy conspiratorially. “I fix them from scratch when I’m home, but there’s nothing like a Jiffy mix when you’re on the road. That’s one product they’ve been smart enough not to tinker with.”

Nealy had never heard of Jiffy mixes, and she tried to figure out how she was going to explain the pregnancy padding.

Mat’s hand settled warm and comforting against the small of her back. “Blueberry muffins sound great.”

As he fixed coffee, Bertis made no reference to Nealy’s phony pregnancy. Instead, she chatted about her own grandchildren, then put the muffins Charlie brought on a pottery plate Nell found in the cupboard. They carried everything out to the sunporch, then Bertis called out to Lucy, who was working around the rosebushes.

Her face lit up when she saw them, and she flew inside. “You came! Ohmygod, I can’t believe it!” She hugged them fiercely, then backed away and tried to act cool. “I mean, it would have been okay if you’d gone right to Yosemite. How long are you going to stay?” The shadow of anxiety appeared in her eyes. “You’re going to stay, aren’t you?”

“For a couple of days. There’s a real nice campground right outside town. As long as Nell and Mat don’t mind having us around, of course.”

Lucy turned to Mat, and all her cool faded as a pleading expression came over her. “They can stay, can’t they?”

Nealy hid her amusement as Mat struggled to sound enthusiastic. “Sure they can stay. It’ll be great having them around.”

Lucy’s smile spread. Then she reached for a muffin.

“Stop right there, young lady, and go wash those hands.”

Lucy grinned at Bertis and shot into the house. Button, who was trying to waddle across the Oriental rug without holding on to anything, fell on her bottom and scowled.

Charlie chuckled. Bertis gazed after Lucy with a smile. “She’s really something, isn’t she? You can just tell by looking at her that she’s special.”

A flash of pride shot through Nealy. “Yes, we think she’s pretty special, too.”
We
. As if Lucy were hers and Mat’s.

Charlie carried his coffee mug to the couch. “I guess Bertis and I are worried about her. Worried about both the girls.”

“They’re fine.” Mat sounded more than a little defensive.

“For now.” Bertis brushed a speck of muffin from her bright pink shorts. “But what about after the three of you get that paternity test Lucy seems so sure she can prevent? I don’t like speaking ill of the dead, but your ex-wife was a very irresponsible woman.”

“You’re right about that.” He carried his mug to the door that led to the back step and leaned against the frame, subtly distancing himself from them.

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