“Oh, she knew all along,” Susannah replied disparagingly, “but she didn’t want to say anything because she was afraid I’d worry.”
“How exactly does she intend to get home?”
“Apparently they booked seats on another airline on the off chance something like this might happen.”
“That was smart.”
“My brother-in-law’s like that. I’m not to give the matter another thought,” she said, quoting Emily. “My sister will be back Sunday afternoon as promised.” If the Fates so decreed—and Susannah said a fervent prayer that they would.
But the Fates had other plans.
* * *
Sunday morning, there were bags under Susannah’s eyes. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and convinced anew that motherhood was definitely not for her. Two nights into the ordeal, Susannah had noticed that the emotional stirring for a husband and children came to her only when Michelle was sleeping or eating. And with good reason.
Nate arrived around nine bearing gifts. He brought freshly baked cinnamon rolls still warm from the oven. He stood in her doorway, tall and lean, with a smile bright enough to dazzle the most dedicated career woman. Once more, Susannah was shocked by her overwhelming reaction to him. Her heart leaped to her throat, and she immediately wished she’d taken time to dress in something better than her faded housecoat.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” she said, bouncing Michelle on her hip.
“I take it you had a bad night.”
“Michelle was fussing. She didn’t seem the least bit interested in sleeping.” She wiped a hand over her face.
“I wish you’d called me,” Nate said, taking her by the elbow and leading her into the kitchen. He actually looked guilty because he’d had a peaceful night’s rest. Ridiculous, Susannah thought.
“Call you? Whatever for?” she asked. “So you could have paced with her, too?” As it was, Nate had spent a good part of Saturday in and out of her apartment helping her. Spending a second night with them was above and beyond the call of duty. “Did I tell you,” Susannah said, yawning, “Michelle’s got a new tooth coming in—I felt it myself.” Deposited in the high chair, Michelle was content for the moment.
Nate nodded and glanced at his watch. “When does your sister’s flight get in?”
“One-fifteen.” No sooner had the words left her lips than the phone rang. Susannah’s and Nate’s eyes met, and as it rang a second time she wondered how a telephone could sound so much like a death knell. Even before she answered it, Susannah knew it would be what she most dreaded hearing.
“Well?” Nate asked when she’d finished the call.
Covering her face with both hands, Susannah sagged against the wall.
“Say something.”
Slowly she lowered her hands. “Help.”
“Help?”
“Yes,” she cried, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “All Puget Air flights are grounded just the way the news reported, and the other airline Robert and Emily made reservations with is overbooked. The earliest flight they can get is tomorrow morning.”
“I see.”
“Obviously you don’t!” she cried. “Tomorrow is Monday and I’ve got to be at work!”
“Call in sick.”
“I can’t do that,” she snapped, angry with him for even suggesting such a thing. “My marketing group is giving their presentation and I’ve got to be there.”
“Why?”
She frowned at him. It was futile to expect someone like Nate to understand something as important as a sales presentation. Nate didn’t seem to have a job; he didn’t worry about a career. For that matter, he couldn’t possibly grasp that a woman holding a management position had to strive twice as hard to prove herself.
“I’m not trying to be cute, Susannah,” he said with infuriating calm. “I honestly want to know why that meeting is so important.”
“Because it is. I don’t expect you to appreciate this, so just accept the fact that I have to be there.”
Nate cocked his head and idly rubbed the side of his jaw. “First, answer me something. Five years from now, will this meeting make a difference in your life?”
“I don’t know.” She pressed two fingers to the bridge of her nose. She’d had less than three hours’ sleep, and Nate was asking impossible questions. Michelle, bless her devilish little heart, had fallen asleep in her high chair. Why shouldn’t she? Susannah reasoned. She’d spent the entire night fussing, and was exhausted now. By the time Susannah had discovered the new tooth, she felt as if she’d grown it herself.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t sweat it,” Nate said with that same nonchalant attitude. “If you aren’t there to hear their presentation, your marketing group will give it Tuesday morning.”
“In other words,” she muttered, “you’re saying I don’t have a thing to worry about.”
“Exactly.”
Nate Townsend knew next to nothing about surviving in the corporate world, and he’d obviously been protected from life’s harsher realities. It was all too obvious to Susannah that he was a man with a baseball-cap mentality. He couldn’t be expected to fully comprehend her dilemma.
“So,” he said now, “what are you going to do?”
Susannah wasn’t sure. Briefly, she closed her eyes in an effort to concentrate. Impose discipline, she said to herself. Stay calm. That was crucial. Think slowly and analyze your objectives. For every problem there was a solution.
“Susannah?”
She glanced at him; she’d almost forgotten he was there. “I’ll cancel my early-morning appointments and go in for the presentation,” she stated matter-of-factly.
“What about Michelle? Are you going to hire a sitter?”
A babysitter hired by the babysitter. A novel thought, perhaps even viable, but Susannah didn’t know anyone who sat with babies.
Then she made her decision. She would take Michelle to work with her.
And that was exactly what she did.
* * *
As she knew it would, Susannah’s arrival at H&J Lima caused quite a stir. At precisely ten the following morning, she stepped off the elevator. Her black leather briefcase was clutched in one hand and Michelle was pressed against her hip with the other. Head held high, Susannah marched across the hardwood floor, past the long rows of doorless cubicles and shelves of foot-thick file binders. Several employees moved away from their desks to view her progress. A low rumble of hushed whispers followed her.
“Good morning, Ms. Brooks,” Susannah said crisply as she walked into her office, the diaper bag draped over her shoulder like an ammunition pouch.
“Ms. Simmons.”
Susannah noted that her assistant—to her credit—didn’t so much as bat an eye. The woman was well trained; to all outward appearances, Susannah regularly arrived at the office with a nine-month-old infant attached to her hip.
Depositing the diaper bag on the floor, Susannah took her place behind a six-foot-wide walnut desk. Content for the moment, Michelle sat on her lap, gleefully viewing her aunt’s domain.
“Would you like some coffee?” Ms. Brooks asked.
“Yes, please.”
Her assistant