Just Beginning (26 page)

“Are you nuts?” George exploded. “I was kidding. It’s not like picking a puppy from a pet store. You can’t just send these kids back if it doesn’t work out.”

Hmm, maybe George wasn’t as callous as he appeared.

Gabe watched her carefully, wary. “Are you serious?”

She slowly nodded. She hadn’t really considered it in such concrete terms, but why not? Together they could save one kid. And Tommy was a terrific kid. And if that worked well, perhaps they could unburden his grandmother and adopt Tommy’s brother and sister too. Children should be with their siblings. They could give three children a great home. Hope built within her. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Gabe swallowed his bite and took a sip of water. He stared at her. “I’m not sure you’ve given this a lot of thought. It’d be a huge commitment of time and energy.”

“I know.”

“Jenny, you’re a remarkably generous person. It’s what makes your work so good. You care, passionately.”

Her heart dropped at his cautious tone. He was working his way up to a no. “But...”

He reached across the table for her hand. “But maybe you care too much. We can’t get personally involved with every cause that comes along. Eventually it’ll drain us. Think about it. This is the first time in three days we’ve been able to share dinner. Where would we find the time to integrate a child into our lives?”

Hope deflated, leaving her feeling defensive and combative. She pulled her hand away. “What if we had our own? I mean I know we’re not going to, but what if I got pregnant?”

“God, Jen, that’s totally different.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Gabe echoed, incredulous. “It’s
our
kid. Our child. Besides, it’d be a baby—not a child with a long history of emotional problems.”

“Okay, what if it was born sickly,” she shot back. “Say it had...spina bifida, or, cystic fibrosis, or, or, I don’t know, some other serious problem. What then?”

He frowned. “Then we’d deal with it. It’d be our child, our responsibility. We’d cope.”

“Because it would be our
responsibility
?”

He shrugged. “Well...yes.”

She stared at him, softly asking, “But we can’t cope with a stranger’s child that’s been discarded and desperately needs us?”

He was willing to take on the stress of a dying child because it belonged to them, but not Tommy, a sweet boy who only needed a stable, loving family and a little time and patience? Where was the logic in that? Tommy was a few years younger than Michael, but just as self-sufficient. A boy that age wouldn’t place many demands on Gabe’s time—mostly hers—and she could handle it.

He’d be in school six hours a day while she worked, and then he’d have after school activities that she’d drive him to, and then in the evenings, he’d be busy with homework leaving her and Gabe free. Maybe if Gabe met Tommy, he’d see that it’d be like having Michael around. He liked Michael.

Gabe bridged his fingers, deep in thought, before sadly shaking his head. “Taking care of our own sick child is dealing with fate. There’s nothing we could have done to avoid that stress. Committing to foster care would be like shooting ourselves in the foot. It’s just stupid.”

“Stupid?” Jenny raised her eyebrows and leveled a cold stare at him.
Being foster parents would be stupid? She was stupid? Why not impulsive, too? Mom would probably agree
.

Or not. Her mother was very protective of children. She just might side with Jenny on this one.

“I’m already working at the clinic two days a week, and they could use me full time.” Gabe said. “If using the clinic as a training ground for residents didn’t create so much goodwill with the hospital administration, my partners would’ve kicked me out of the practice long ago. Between our careers, the clinic, the resident program, and the kids visiting, we spend little enough time alone together as it is.

“I like having the freedom to grab a few free hours when we can. We need that time.” He sighed and took her hand. “Look. I’m sorry, Jen. I’d like to help. But we can’t get involved with every tragedy you write about.”

“Finally, someone with some sense,” George said, making Jenny wish they’d had this conversation in private. “No kids—your own or other people’s. Now
that’s
smart.”

“But that’s not to say I don’t agree that
you’d
make a great foster parent Uncle George,” Gabe said. “You should think about it.”

“
Me
?” George raised his eyebrows and grunted. “Where can I send a check?”

Fall set in unusually early this year with the cold causing trees to shed their leaves in a bright array of browns, reds, oranges, and yellows, mid-September. Ted and Alex had been back at school for three weeks, and life settled down into a predictable pattern.

Saturday morning, Jenny raked the leaves while Ritz either watched or raced through the huge piles she made. She swiped the bangs out of her eyes; she needed some bobby pins. Her hair had grown out already, making a respectable ponytail, but if she was going to keep the bangs, she needed to get them trimmed. They were driving her nuts. Fifteen minutes later, bangs pinned back, Jenny leaned against her rake and surveyed the yard.

She didn’t mind raking but despised bagging them, which was why a half-dozen piles heaped like enormous bright anthills littered the front lawn. When there were no renegade leaves left to corral, Jenny decided she needed a lemonade break before bagging. Maybe by the time she finished, Gabe would be back from the hospital and could help her.

She brightened. Maaaybe, she could pay Michael to bag them. He always needed money and it’d give her a good excuse to spend a little time with him. She’d call Mom if Gabe didn’t show up soon.

Once inside, Jenny decided it was close to lunch and she should eat before bagging. Then, the dishwasher needed emptying, and the dog pen cleaning, and...then she ran out of legitimate procrastinating jobs. She picked up her phone and called home, but nobody answered. She dialed her mom’s cell, scowling when it went to voicemail. “Nobody’s ever around when you need them.”

Well, that left... her. Dang. Jenny dragged an empty garbage can and a roll of large black plastic bags down the driveway just as Alex pulled in.

Saved
. A good stepmother would put her child’s needs first. She’d be willing to forgo finishing this job, if she had to. Or she could get Alex to help. She snorted.
Fat chance
.

Jenny tied the bag shut and blew stray strands of hair from her face before greeting her stepdaughter with a big smile and a hug. “Hey, you. What’re you doing here?”

“Came home for the weekend.”

Suzy got out of the backseat with a baby perched on her hip. He looked so bundled up, Jenny doubted he could even wave his little arm. “Hi, Mrs. Harrison,” Suzy said as she approached.

“Hi, Suzy.”

“Suz wants me to go shopping with her, but the baby needs a nap.” Alex slanted Jenny a sly look. “You wouldn’t want to babysit for a few hours, would you?”

Not particularly
.

“He’ll probably sleep the whole time. Please, Mrs. Harrison?” Suzy begged.

Be responsible for that little guy?
Jenny looked from the pleading faces to the drooling baby. “I haven’t babysat in years.”

“He’s really good. He hardly ever cries, and I have an extra bottle in case he wakes up early—which he won’t. He always takes a long afternoon nap.”

“I don’t know,” she drew out, looking out over the yard. The leaves. Pasting a regretful look on her face, she turned to them.

“We’ll finish the leaves for you before we go,” Alex blurted out. “Besides, it’s good practice for when you and Dad have a baby.”

We’re having a baby? News to me
. Defeated, Jenny held out her arms, half hoping the baby would reject her.

For one long minute the baby stiffened in her arms. He studied her through solemn hazel eyes, then yawned widely, laid his head on her chest, tucked under her chin. Stuffing his pacifier in his mouth, he sighed.

“See. I told you he was tired,” Suzy said.

Okay, she could do this. She might not want kids, but she was certainly capable of babysitting one little guy for an afternoon. How hard could it be? She’d put him down someplace safe out of Ritz’s reach for a nap... “I don’t have anywhere for him to sleep.”

“How about Steve?” Alex asked. “I’ve seen Sophia sleeping in a Pack ’n Play under the tree.”

“Pack ’n Play?” She frowned at Alex. “How do you even know what that is?”

“Suzy.”

Of course
. “Okay. I’ll ask Steve if we can borrow his playpen, while you two get to work.”

At least she’d get the dang leaves done. Crossing through the hedge, the baby’s mouth moved against her neck as he sucked his pacifier. His weight felt strangely comforting in her arms. She knocked on Steve’s back door and tried to push it open but couldn’t juggle the baby and door. Jabbing the doorbell, she tried to peer through the glass, wondering what was taking so long.

Opening the door, Steve pushed a pencil behind one ear, folded arms across his chest, and leaned against the door jam. A slow, broad smile lit his face. “Congratulations. I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”

She pushed by him. “Funny, Grant. Do you have a playpen I can borrow?”

He ducked his head to get a better look at the sleepy baby. “Cute kid. What’s his name?”

“I don’t know. I’m doing Alex a favor.”

“Getting in practice?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that? We’re
not
having kids.”

Steve frowned. “Why not?”

She shifted the baby in her arms. Now was not the time to go into that. This kid was getting heavy, and he was slobbering all over her neck. “Do you have a playpen or not?”

“Sure, Annie leaves one here. I’ll get it.”

The baby heaved a big sigh, and the pacifier fell out of his slack mouth, hitting her arm before the floor. With one hand, she smoothed his downy blond hair and shifted him to see if he was still asleep.

She studied his little bud lips, fat cheeks, and down-swept lashes, remembering Michael at this age. He looked so adorable; she couldn’t help pressing a kiss on his smooth forehead that felt as soft as it looked. He must have just had a bath because he smelled of baby shampoo and sweet baby.

Steve returned, carrying a rectangular thing with a handle.

He took in the sleeping baby and automatically bent to pick up the pacifier.

“Great.” She nodded at the folded package. “That’s a playpen?”

He passed her and held the door open. “Come on, I’ll set it up for you.”

He assembled the playpen in the study. Suzy brought in the baby’s supplies and settled him in it with his favorite soft blankie and stuffed monkey. She popped a bottle in the refrigerator, showed Jenny where diapers and extra outfits were located in the backpack diaper bag, and left her instructions as if she were an old pro at leaving her baby, then breezed out the door.

Shell shocked, Jenny caught up with the girls as they piled in Suzy’s car. “What time will you be back?”

“A couple of hours.”

Okay. Two hours wasn’t that long. “Staying for dinner?”

“Nope, but thanks. Mom’s taking us out.”

Of course she was. How come Judith got the fun part and she got stuck babysitting? Judith was probably working.
I guess heart surgery trumps yard work and babysitting duty.
Jenny swung around. “What’s his name?”

“Adam.”

“Okay. Have fun, girls.” Jenny waved them away. Turning, she caught sight of Steve crossing back through the hedge. “Hey! Steve, wait. Where’re you going?”

Frantic to catch him, Jenny sprinted forward, tripped over Ritz, and went careening into him. Clutching his shoulder, she nearly knocked Steve off his feet to avoid putting her full weight on the yelping, scrambling dog. He grabbed her by the waist, plastering her against him before getting a solid grip and firmly righting her.

“Sorry.” Trying to sound nonchalant, she asked. “Soooo. Where’re you going?”

“Home.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Work.”

“Oh.” She seized on an idea to bring him back over to her house and the sleeping baby. “I was going to make cookies. Want some?”

“No, thanks.”

“How about a beer? I could make some of that hot artichoke dip you like.”

He frowned. “It’s only two, Jen. What’s the problem?”

“Nothing. No problem. Why would there be a problem? I...just felt like company.”

“Sorry, I’ve gotta get back to work.” He turned and left.

Well, she huffed; he couldn’t get away fast enough. Feeling slightly rejected, Jenny walked back inside, careful not to let the door slam. Was Steve mad at her? All she’d wanted was a little company. It wasn’t like she asked him to babysit for her. She wasn’t a total novice with babies. She’d cared for Michael. A decade ago.

Maybe the baby would sleep the whole time the girls were gone. She tiptoed into the study and found Ritz stretched out in front of the playpen. The dog lifted her head and slapped her tail on the carpet in greeting but didn’t get up. Jenny muted her cell and unplugged the house phone so its ringing wouldn’t waken Adam.

She tried to write, but couldn’t focus on her article. It must be lack of practice that had her hovering over him. But he was so dang cute. Jenny finally gave up trying to work and settled in next to the playpen.

After a long hour, Ritz bounded to the garage door, barking her loud, welcome home woof. Jenny chased her, whispering, “Ritz,
be quiet
. No bark!” Jenny grabbed her muzzle and held it shut. “Shh! You’re gonna wake the baby.”

Darn. The baby couldn’t possibly have slept through that racket. Jenny hurried back to the study where he lay whimpering, looking around at the strange room through wide, curious eyes.

Ritz trotted back into the study, ears cocked, tilting her golden head as if trying to understand this new little creature. Jenny lifted him and gently patted his back. She glared at the dog. “See what you did? Big mouth.”

Gabe found them, gave her a kiss, then braced a hand on the baby’s back and smiled. “Who’s this?”