“No, thanks. I’m not brooding or feeling sorry for myself, Kate. Honest.”
“Will you call the doctor?”
And say what?
“No. And not in a million years, no matter how much advice you give me.”
“Ah, I see. He’s the one who got away,” Kate said, taking another sip of her drink.
“No.” Kim tucked her feet underneath her and remembered her senior year at Rhode Island School of Design, the well-known art school. “He’s the one who never came near me at all.”
3
SHE WOULDN’T STOP CRYING. No matter what he did, how he held her, what songs he sang or how many bottles he fixed, Brianne would not stop screaming. As far as Stuart was concerned, it was the Friday night from hell.
He prayed Payne wouldn’t call and ask how her baby was doing. She’d called twice already, the last time to remind him once again of the photography session.
“Bree, baby, you have to stop,” Stuart crooned, a plea that did absolutely no good. He half expected the police to knock on his door and arrest him for violating the local sound ordinance.
“You’re hurting Uncle Stuart’s ears,” he said, holding her against his chest as he patted her back. He’d checked her ears, attempted to look down her throat when she screamed, listened to her heart and caught a glimpse of swollen gums when he’d held her near the reading light by his sofa. Brianne was quite possibly teething, not that he knew anything about babies and teeth.
Not that he knew anything about babies at all.
So he called Brianne’s pediatrician and got his answering service, making certain he identified himself as a fellow doctor, and then received a callback from the woman herself.
“Sounds like teething,” she said, after asking a few pointed questions. “I usually tell the parents to use baby Tylenol and one of the over-the-counter gum medications made especially for this. And she’s not running a fever?”
He didn’t think so.
“I’m only the uncle,” he tried to explain. “I need help.”
He heard her sigh. “Are there any grandmothers nearby who can help you?”
“No.” Not bloody likely, he thought, wondering if his mother was still married to husband number four. Or was it five? His father’s new lady friend hadn’t reached her thirtieth birthday and certainly wasn’t the domestic type.
“Well, then, you can always take her into any emergency room, Doctor,” she said. “Have her checked out, if you feel the situation warrants it.”
The situation warranted a large scotch and a good night’s sleep, Stuart figured, but he thanked the woman after she promised he would survive.
Trouble was Stuart didn’t dare leave to buy any of that magic stuff, because Temple was supposed to have been here by now. He didn’t want her to show up and find him gone. No, his sister could handle this.
“Auntie Temple will be here soon,” he chanted, hoping that the sister known as “the wild one” wouldn’t stop anywhere on her way from the airport. She should have been in Newport by now; it wouldn’t have taken her an hour and a half to get here, even if the traffic was backed up on the bridge.
He grabbed the phone when it rang once. “Temple?”
“Yep, it’s me.” She also sounded very far away, which was not a good sign. And then she went on to explain that she hadn’t been able to leave Mexico, due to an unexpected strike by airport personnel that was rumored to last at least until Monday. “What’s the matter, baby brother? You sound desperate.”
“I am.” He was facing Memorial Day weekend with Bree? “Our niece won’t stop crying.”
“Maybe you’re not holding her the right way.”
“I’m holding her the right way,” he insisted. “I called her doctor. She’s teething.”
“You haven’t called Payne, have you?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“She’s going to kill me for this.” Now Temple was catching on, Stuart thought. “Don’t tell her I’m in Mexico.”
“She’ll find out. You know she’ll call.”
“Don’t answer the phone. I know,” she said, sounding brighter. “Drive Bree around in the car. That’s what Payne does when nothing else works.”
“Drive around when she’s screaming at the top of her lungs? How does that make sense?”
“Just try it. I don’t suppose you date any divorced mothers?”
“Not if I can help it.” He didn’t tell her he’d called a couple of his female friends for help, but neither had seemed very interested in discussing infant care.
“Then you’re screwed.”
“And it’s your fault.”
“Look, I’m not going to pretend it’s any kind of hardship being stuck in Puerto Vallarta with a gorgeous fireman named Hank who’s built like a Greek god and says he hasn’t been with a woman in—well, never mind. He’s a little rough around the edges, but that’s the way I like—”
He closed his eyes. “Please, Temple. For God’s sake, no details.”
“Right.” She chuckled. “When did you suddenly turn prudish?”
“Temple, I’m begging you. Get on a plane. Any plane. Come home. Can’t you hear your niece screaming for you?” He held the receiver close to Bree’s open mouth and let Temple get a blast of the baby’s anger.
“Sorry, pal. Circumstances beyond my control and all that. Besides, laying on the guilt doesn’t work with me,” was all she said before she hung up.
Brianne looked at him and screamed even louder, if that was possible.
“How do you feel about cars? Drugstores? Tylenol?” he asked, holding her to his shoulder. “What kind of music do you want to listen to? Jazz? Blues? Classical? Or classic rock?”
She continued to scream into her uncle’s ear.
And then she messed her pants.
“HELP,” WAS ALL STUART said, standing there on her back doorstep with a sobbing baby on his shoulder. Kim didn’t know why she held out her arms, but he looked relieved and handed Brianne to her. The poor little girl was heated and damp, her face wet with tears as she nestled against Kim’s chest.
“What have you done to her?”
“I think,” he said. “It’s the other way around.”
“Is there something wrong with her?” Kim stepped aside and let him into the back foyer of the studio. It was true that he didn’t look any better than he had three hours ago. He wore the same stained rumpled clothes and he looked close to exhaustion. But still, of course, tremendously handsome. The “movie star” face and the killer smile were a lethal combination, even when Stuart was grubby and tired.
“She’s teething,” he said, hoarse. “I talked to her pediatrician, who explained it to me.”
Brianne hiccupped and then let out another wail. Kim forgot to ask why he was here or how he’d discovered she lived above the studio or any other questions her more clever twin would have uttered. She snuggled the baby against her and led Stuart upstairs. “Poor baby,” she murmured. “She misses her mommy, I’ll bet.”