My Babies and Me

Joey giggled. And

peed.

Susan swore. She was going to cry, too. Until she saw the big blue eyes gazing up at her, watching. She smiled instead.

“Okay, Joe, me boy, no more of that,” she said in a funny low voice. The little boy laughed.

Stripping off her wet blouse, Susan stood in her bra and maternity shorts trying to be cheerful as she grabbed a fresh diaper.

Five minutes later, the task was done; he was clean diapered, dressed. Suddenly sleepy, Joey cuddled against her as she finally lifted him from the changing table. He smelled of baby powder and little boy, and Susan gave in to the temptation to hold him for a while, rocking him back and forth. He seemed to grow heavier as he lay against her. In less than five minutes, he was sound asleep—from imp to angel-face.

Susan walked softly, slowly, to Joey’s crib, trying to figure out how to get down the side bar with the child sleeping in her arms. She discovered, that it was the least of her problems. Because first, she was going to have to change the soaking wet crib sheet with the child asleep in her arms.

She knew from her experience earlier in the evening—and from Julie’s warning, which she’d so stupidly ignored—that the second she put Joey down anywhere but in his crib, he’d be awake again.

And Susan was pretty sure she didn’t have the energy to survive that.

SUSAN WAS HOT. Sweat rolled down her back and pooled at the waistband of her ugly maternity underwear beneath her green tent of a dress. All this discomfort, just because she’d walked from her car to her office building. July was quickly moving toward August, and Cincinnati’s weather wasn’t being nice to her.

Tricia met her at the door, on her way out someplace, and taking one glance at Susan, swung back.

“Come on,” she said, linking her arm with Susan’s. “Let’s get something cold to drink.”

Tempted to give in to self-pity and allow herself to be led, Susan held strong instead. “Weren’t you going someplace?” she asked, trying to remember where Tricia was headed. “A meeting with the insurance people, maybe?”

“I’m their best customer. They’ll wait,” the other woman said.

Fifteen minutes later, Susan was ensconced in a quiet booth at Tricia’s club, sipping a decaffeinated frozen latte and marveling how friends could be found in the most unexpected places.

Over the past six weeks, she and Tricia had formed an unusually frank relationship built, at first, on mutual respect, but more recently, on mutual affection, as well.

“Michael’s still gone?” Tricia asked as the waitress left them.

Susan nodded. He’d been gone almost constantly since the Saturday they’d seen Laura. And though she knew the Miller deal had been put on hold for at least a month, she couldn’t help worrying that Laura’s visit had something to do with his extended absence.

“He’s still calling?”

“Almost every day.”

Chin puckered, Tricia nodded as though pleased. Susan was pleased, too. So pleased she scared herself. The frequency of Michael’s calls could simply be the result of a misguided sense of duty.

“So what have you decided to do once the babies are born?” Tricia asked. Though her boss was impeccable as always in her violet suit, not a black hair out of place, Susan now knew the woman beneath the facade.

“Hire a nanny for in-home care.”

“Good, that’s what I’d do, too. I can get you some names if you’d like.”

“That’d be great.” With all the charity and church work Tricia had done over the years, she knew everyone in town. “I’d feel a whole lot better working with referrals than with a service.”

As they sipped their coffee, they talked about Tricia’s earlier days with young children at home. And then about her current days with teenagers ruling the roost. Susan couldn’t wait for either. They both sounded like heaven to her.

“How was Amy’s dance?” Susan asked. She’d yet to meet the fifteen-year-old, but she’d already grown very fond of her through her mother.

“She went with one guy and came home with another, but she had a wonderful time.”

Susan smiled, her glass completely empty. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be fifteen again?”

“Yeah.” Tricia’s eyes were downcast, and teary when she glanced up again. “I met Ed when I was fourteen,” she said. “He was the only man I ever dated.”