“Thanks.”
He favored her with a grin on his way out the door, and Susannah stood a few moments after he’d left the apartment, thinking about him. Her feelings were decidedly mixed.
She began sorting through the various bags her sister had brought, depositing the jars of baby food in the cupboard and putting the bottles of formula in the fridge. As Nate had pointed out, there was plenty of room—all she had to do was scoot the empty pickle jar aside.
She supposed she should toss the jar in the garbage, but one of the guys from the office had talked about making pickled eggs. It sounded so simple—all she had to do was peel a few hard-boiled eggs and keep them refrigerated in the jar for a week or so. Susannah had been meaning to try it ever since. But she was afraid that when the mood struck her, she wouldn’t have any pickle juice around, so she’d decided to keep it on hand.
Once she’d finished in the kitchen, Susannah soaked in a hot bath, leaving the door ajar in case Michelle woke and needed her. She felt far more relaxed afterward.
Walking back into the living room on the tips of her toes, she brought out her briefcase and removed a file. She glanced down at her sleeping niece and gently patted her back. The little girl looked so angelic, so content.
Suddenly a powerful yearning stirred within Susannah. She felt real affection for Michelle, but the feeling was more than that. This time alone with her niece had evoked a longing buried deep in Susannah’s heart, a longing she’d never taken the time to fully examine. And with it came an aching restless sensation that she promptly submerged.
When Susannah had chosen a career in business, she’d realized she was giving up the part of herself that hungered for husband and children. There was nothing that said she couldn’t marry, couldn’t raise a child, but she knew herself too well. From the time she was in high school it had been painfully apparent that she was completely inadequate in the domestic arena. Especially when she compared herself to Emily, who seemed to have been born with a dust rag in one hand and a cookbook in the other.
Susannah had never regretted the decision she’d made to dedicate herself to her career, but then she was more fortunate than some. She had Emily, who was determined to supply her with numerous nieces and nephews. For Susannah, Michelle and the little ones who were sure to follow would have to be enough.
Reminding herself that she was comfortable with her choices, Susannah quietly stepped away from the crib. For the next hour, she sat on her bed reading the details of the proposed marketing program the department had sent her. The full presentation was scheduled for Monday morning and she wanted to be informed and prepared.
When she finished reading the report, she tiptoed back to her desk, situated in the far corner of the living room, and replaced the file in her briefcase.
Once more she paused to check on her niece. Feeling just a little cocky, she returned to the bedroom convinced this babysitting business wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
* * *
Susannah changed her mind at one-thirty when a piercing wail startled her out of a sound sleep. Not knowing how long Michelle had been at it, Susannah nearly fell out of bed in her rush to reach her niece.
“Michelle,” she cried, stumbling blindly across the floor, her arms stretched out in front of her. “I’m coming…. There’s no need to panic.”
Michelle disagreed vehemently.
Turning on a light only made matters worse. Squinting to protect her eyes from the glare, Susannah groped her way to the crib, then let out a cry herself when she stubbed her toe on the leg of the coffee table.
Michelle was standing, holding on to the bars and looking as if she didn’t have a friend in the world.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Susannah asked softly, lifting the baby into her arms.
A wet bottom told part of the story. And the poor kid had probably woken and, finding herself in a strange place, felt scared. Susannah couldn’t blame her.
“All right, we’ll try this diapering business again.”
Susannah spread a thick towel on the bathroom counter, then gently placed Michelle on it. She was halfway through the changing process when the phone rang. Straightening, Susannah glanced around her, wondering what she should do. She couldn’t leave Michelle, and picking her up and carrying her into the kitchen would be difficult. Whoever was calling at this time of night should know better! If it was important they could leave a message on her answering machine.
But after three rings, the phone stopped, followed almost immediately by a firm knock at her door.
Hauling Michelle, newly diapered, Susannah squinted and checked the peephole to discover a disgruntled Nate on the other side.
“Nate,” she said in surprise as she opened the door. She couldn’t even guess what he wanted. And she wasn’t too keen about letting him into her apartment at this hour.
He stood just inside the condo, barefoot and dressed in a red plaid housecoat. His hair was mussed, which made Susannah wonder about her own disheveled appearance. She suspected she looked like someone who’d walked out of a swamp.
“Is Michelle all right?” he barked, despite the evidence before him. Not waiting for a reply, he continued in an accusing tone, “You didn’t answer the phone.”
“I couldn’t. I was changing her diaper.”
Nate hesitated, then studied her closely. “In that case, are you all right?”
She nodded and managed to raise one hand. It was difficult when her arms were occupied with a baby. “I lived to tell about it.”
“Good. What happened? Why was Michelle crying?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe when she woke up and didn’t recognize her surroundings, she suffered an anxiety attack.”
“And, from the look of us, caused a couple more.”
Susannah would rather he hadn’t mentioned that. Her long, tangled hair spilled over her shoulders and she, too, was barefoot. She’d been so anxious to get to Michelle that she hadn’t bothered to reach for her slippers or her robe.
Michelle, it seemed, was pleased with all the unexpected attention, and when she leaned toward Nate, arms outstretched, Susannah marveled at how fickle an infant could be. After all, she was the one who’d fed and diapered her. Not Nate.
“It’s my male charm,” he explained delightedly.
“More likely, it’s your red housecoat.”
Whatever it was, Michelle went into his arms as if he were a long-lost friend. Susannah excused herself to retrieve her robe from the foot of her bed. By the time she got back, Nate was sitting on the sofa with his feet stretched out, supported by Susannah’s mahogany coffee table.
“Make yourself at home,” she muttered. Her mood wasn’t always the best when she’d been abruptly wakened from a sound sleep.
He glanced up at her and grinned. “No need to be testy.”
“Yes, there is,” she said, but destroyed what remained of her argument by yawning loudly. Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she slumped down on the chair across from him and flipped her hair away from her face.
His gaze followed the action. “You should wear your hair down more often.”
She glared at him. “I always wear my hair up.”
“I noticed. And frankly, it’s much more flattering down.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she cried, “are you going to tell me how to dress next?”
“I might.”
He