Mother's Day Babies (Holiday Babies Series) (13 page)

It was too late in life for him
to have meaningful relationship. He knew he wouldn’t be able to close his eyes
tonight and headed down to the bar.

****

Too late for me
. Dating
games needed a solid heart and a cold head. She didn’t know how to play. And
yet she was in love. Desperately in love. A surge of tears blurred her vision.
He hadn’t offered his heart and pronounced forever words. He did what everyone
did nowadays, what he believed was the right thing to do. Barbara couldn’t blame
it on Lou.

Why couldn’t she forget her
values and enjoy life?

Because you are Barbara Ramsey
,
a mother of five beautiful daughters who trust her to do the right thing as she
taught them. She couldn’t suddenly turn her back on her past.

She undressed, threw her clothes
in the closet, and donned a robe. The knocks on the door startled her. She
wanted to open and fall in Lou’s arms. He was suffering too. They’d hurt each
other—unwillingly. She threw herself on the bed and cried for a while.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to
sleep, she slipped on some sweat pants and a light sweater and headed to the
twenty-four hour cafeteria to order an herbal tea.

“Barbara!” A glass in his hand, Lou
crossed the lobby and rushed toward her. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t sleep. My stomach hurts.
Stress spasms. I was going to have an anise tea.” She shrugged and focused an
inquisitive gaze on his face. “What about you?”

“Same thing. I couldn’t sleep so
I got myself a Scotch to drown my heartache.”

She pouted like a guilty kid.
“Sorry, I gave you the heartache.”

His chuckle sounded bitter.
“Sorry, I gave you the stress spasms. Come, Barbara, I’ll get you your herbal
tea and we’ll drink our remedies together. I need my best buddy, and I promise
to listen like a good friend. Will you sit with me?”

Barbara nodded. She so badly
needed his presence. He led her to a nook off the main bar. She settled in the
comfortable leather chair while he went to get her anise tea. At one in the
morning only a few people still lingered at the bar. He brought himself a
second Scotch and sat across from her.

He raised his glass. “To our
friendship. I hope...I mean I want it to last forever.”

“I do, too, Lou.” She clicked her
cup against his drink.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you. It was
the last thing on my mind. I may have aced in my business, but I’m a complete
ignoramus in
affaire
de coeur
.” He opened both hands, his face a
mask of contrition.

She clenched her cup with both
hands to avoid reaching out and caressing his cheek. “I know, Lou. I’m sorry
too. I lost control and banged the door in your face.”

He laughed, a sad sound so
different from his usual gregarious outbursts. “You got me there. I finally
realized I did something wrong.”

“It’s not that you did or said
anything bad. We were not on the same wavelength. I guess I haven’t evolved. I
still live by my old values, but I shouldn’t expect others to do the same. One
day I may change—eventually.”

“No please, Barbara, don’t
change. I like you exactly as you are.” He squeezed her hand and immediately
let go as if he was afraid she might run away.

Had she scared the bejeebers out
of him with her high and mighty moral values? Darn, she didn’t know anymore
what to think or how to act? Why had she ever gone to Paris in the first place?
She should have trusted her premonitions that it wasn’t a good idea.

“So where do we go from here? I
mean as far as our relationship is concerned.” She could have bitten her lips.
What relationship? He’d offered the maximum he could offer in terms of feelings
and commitment. And here she was pathetically begging for crumbles.

“How about we take one day at a
time? I’ll do my best to behave. And if I falter, you’ll forgive and forget.
Okay?”

“Okay.” How would they take that
one
day at a time
? She swallowed the question.

“Tomorrow, we’ll get Monica and
her babies settled in her apartment and then we’ll see. One day at a time,” he
repeated as if he too was pondering the words.

****

“Mom, Dad, did you have a good
time last night?” Monica blurted as soon as they entered her room the next
morning.

Lou scowled at her. For the first
time she’d called him Dad, she could have chosen a better question, a better
phrase. Barbara dropped her purse and lowered to fetch the items that scattered
out. He bent too and helped.

“Well, what’s wrong with you
people?” Monica stared at them with a scowl so similar to his. The impudent
girl shook her index finger under his nose when he approached her bed. “Lou, I
can see you upset Mom. Shame on you after the torrid kiss you gave her yesterday.”

Stunned, he opened furious eyes,
ready to give her a piece of his mind. But Barbara raised her palm and
squinted. “Monica, mind your own business and keep a civil tongue in your
mouth,” she scolded.

“Incredible.” Her trademark pout
jutting, his daughter had the guts to look offended. “Here I thought you had a
good influence on him. But it looks like he’s the one who gets the worst out of
you.”

“Monica!” Both Barbara and Lou
warned at the same time.

“Okay, okay. Don’t take your
rotten mood out on me. I’m not saying another word.” She tapped the nurse call
button several times.

“Are you ready to leave?” the
nurse asked a moment later.

“Yes, can you help me get
dressed? It looks like my parents have too much on their minds today.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Lou grumbled.

“You too, Mrs. Ramsay,” Monica ordered,
as if she hadn’t called Barbara
Mom
a
moment ago.

Lou was still fuming when Barbara
joined him in the hallway. “Is this girl a hopeless case?”

Barbara smiled. “This girl is
your daughter through and through.”

“I wish I could be sure.”

“Lou, she doesn’t have your
features but she certainly has your character.”

“You don’t say. I’ve never talked
to my parents this way.”

“Because you had a good education
thanks to your wonderful mother. Monica never had a good example. No offense,
Lou, but her pitch is the same you use with your employees when you’re worried
and assign a job top priority,” she said imitating his tone of voice.

He scowled and she smiled. He’d
have to watch his voice from now on. He’d always praised himself for being a
fair boss. “I never noticed, but I’ll pay attention.”

“And your scowl, Lou. Monica’s
scowl is a mirror image of yours, even the arrogant tilt of her chin is so like
yours. She’s also as generous as you are. Remember, how she put her college
dream aside to take care of her ungrateful mother. I don’t need a DNA test to
tell you she’s one hundred percent your daughter.”

He rubbed his chin. Barbara chuckled.
“Checking its tilt?”

He grinned. It was good to laugh
together again as if their last discussion hadn’t happened—or at least was
forgotten. “I wish you were right, Barbara. I’d be the happiest father in the
world if it was true. So now I should be pleased she was so insolent?”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but poor
Monica didn’t mean to be insulting. She’d just had high hopes for us and was
disappointed.”

“How are you going to deal with
her for three days?”

“Don’t worry. I’ve handled
difficult cases before.” She frowned. “Why three days?”

“Because in three days I’m going
back to Atlanta. I assumed you’d be going back to Kentucky and I was planning
to drive you to the airport.”

“Thanks, Lou. But I think Monica
will need help for much longer than three days.”

“Don’t let her take advantage of
you.”

Barbara chuckled. How he loved
the bubbly sound. “Even if she does, it’s okay with me. I love babies, and I’m
determined to have her stand on her own two feet—the right way.”

“Thank you, darl—” He caught
himself in time and swallowed the endearment. Damn it, he almost banged his
fist against the wall. He couldn’t continue to treat her like an ordinary
friend when he wanted her to be so much more. She probably heard his slip as
she lowered her head and sighed.

The door opened and the nurse
appeared. “Mr. Roland, Monica is ready. She’s dressed and has signed the
discharged papers. As soon as I bring the babies, you’ll be free to leave.”

“Thank you, nurse.” Before
entering his daughter’s room, he held Barbara’s hand. “I want you to know how
much I appreciate all you’re doing for Monica.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned her
back and entered the room.

Why did he feel like a skunk?

Chapter Eleven

“Excuse me.” Barbara hissed
between gritted teeth.

“Sorry,” Lou muttered for the
tenth time. He slowly eased away, in the cramped room, inadvertently rubbing
against her oversensitive body. She had to get him out of there or she was
going to scream.

“Ah I forgot to tell you I need
nutmeg and soya sauce. Can you, please, go get them?” Once again she’d send him
to run errands.

“Sure,” he answered with a
resigned voice. “Anything else? Think carefully. I’ve already been to the
supermarket and other places five times.”

In fact, having Lou around her
all day in the eight by eight space of Monica’s living room and the four by
four kitchenette was a pure torture. As she navigated around the boxes of
diapers, wipes and baby paraphernalia, she’d bumped into his solid chest way
too often. Once his arms had closed around her and immediately dropped with a
hushed
sorry
. Her heartbeat drummed against her ribs, and she’d asked
him if he could please get them some fruits.

Another time his gaze captured
hers, but he turned at once and hit his knee against the cocktail table with an
ouch
and a curse. He left by himself to get three cups of strong coffee.

His masculine scent and the lemon
fragrance of his aftershave filled the atmosphere and smoldered her treacherous
senses. To remedy the situation and survive, Barbara created errand after
errand for him to run, and decided to cook with highly aromatic ingredients.

Soon the aroma of garlic,
coriander, and fried oil replaced his cherished scent. Barbara insisted he ate
alone while she locked herself in the bedroom with Monica to change and feed
the babies. Later she brought the overwhelmed mommy a plate of grilled steak,
fried vegetables, and potatoes, followed by fruit for dessert.

At the end of her ropes, Barbara prepared
a similar plate for herself, slumped onto the living room sofa, and kicked her
shoes off.

“You’re finally sitting down. You
know you haven’t stopped moving around, which is almost impossible to do in
this tiny apartment,” Lou lamented.

“We had to change and feed two
babies every two hours. Monica is exhausted, just breastfeeding.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll tidy the kitchen and warm
bottles for the next feed. I insisted she sleeps now.”

“Let me clean the kitchen. You
lie down and stretch your back.”

Lou cleaning a kitchen? She
suppressed a chuckle. “Come on, Lou, you’re not serious.”

When he rolled up his sleeves,
she gulped and stared. Lou at the sink, working his biceps on the pots and pans
was a picture to behold. If she had an ounce of energy left she’d have brought
her camera and saved this special memory.

“You think I can’t do a good
job?” His brow arched, he challenged her. “Just wait and see, lady. Besides,
your kitchen smells so good, it’s a pleasure.”

At the moment the tiny kitchen
smelled of garlic and herbs. Thank God, she’d managed to suppress the powerful
aphrodisiac of his scent.

“I’d rather have you go to the launderette
and wash the babies’ overalls, sheets, and covers. I should have bought twice
as many, but I didn’t know where to put them.” Frustration threatened to engulf
her, but she kicked it back. “I wish she had her own washer and drier. I hate
to have baby clothes washed in public places.”

“Are you kidding? Where on Earth,
would we put the machines?” His arms crossed over his chest, Lou didn’t bother
to hide his irritation. Ever since they’d stepped into the small apartment,
he’d been like a live wire. And she wasn’t much better. “Maybe I should move her
to a bigger apartment.”

“For heaven’s sake, it’s not a
good time to move now.” Barbara tucked a pillow behind her. She hated the
apartment but the thought of moving exacerbated the pain in her lower back. “The
babies are too small to bear the stress of a move. And Monica is already very
nervous. She cried for an hour when you went grocery-shopping.”

“She cried? Why? You’re the one
assuming the whole responsibility.”

“It’s natural in her situation.
She’s postpartum.”

“Post what?” He looked at her
with round eyes. Was she talking Chinese?

“Postpartum anxiety means a
nervous state that affects young mothers after the delivery.” God, she was so
tired. Why couldn’t he understand without her drawing a picture?

“Ah.” He raked his hair. “Does it
go away with Aspirin or Tylenol or a stronger anti- anxiety medicine?”

She answered with a shrug and
then felt bad. Lou didn’t realize the situation. “It will go away by itself as
the babies grow and she becomes more confident. We just have to give her as
much support as possible.”

The babies chose the wrong time
to cry. Heck every time they cried was a wrong time. Barbara wriggled her back
and straightened. “Monica is asleep. I don’t want them to wake her.”

“Stay. I’ll bring them to you,”
Lou said.

Unable to believe her ears, she
stared at him, her eyes rounding.

He chuckled and walked to the
bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned with a screaming bundle tucked in
each arm. “She’s so deeply asleep, she didn’t even stir. Boys, stop it. You’re
going to wake mommy.” Lou shook his head as the babies kept crying. “As
stubborn as their mother.”