She's My Baby

“Yeah, well, I guess if you just get us a new diaper, I can help you change her and get out of your hair.” He didn’t mean to mention her hair, but it had a way of drawing the eye.

She blinked. “A diaper?”

“You do have diapers, right?”

“Uh.” She turned back toward the bassinette and searched inside it, but the only thing she pulled out was a thin envelope.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“It’s from Sam,” she said with a note of dread, and then lifted her large, sad brown eyes up at him. “It could only mean bad news.”

Chapter 3

On the porch of her Sea Symphony Villa, Roslyn stared out at Barbados’s powdery white sand, turquoise sea, cerulean sky and wanted to pinch herself. Everything was postcard perfect—and yet she couldn’t stop her mind from wandering back home.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Patrick eased his arms around her waist and nibbled on her exposed shoulder.

Though his lips were pleasure, they failed to draw Roslyn from her troubled thoughts. “I was thinking about Samantha,” she answered honestly.

Her husband groaned and laid his head against her shoulder. “This is supposed to be our vacation.”

“It is.” Roslyn turned in his arms and fluttered a smile at him. “I was just hoping everything is okay, you know? This time of year is always hard for her.”

Patrick nodded, but his gaze inspected her. “This time of year is also hard on you…and Leila.”

Instant tears welled in Roslyn’s eyes and she lowered her gaze to stare at the span of his broad chest.

Gently, he lifted her head again so their eyes met. “All I’m saying is…you can’t fix your sister. Everyone has demons to fight. Samantha is going to have to fight her own.”

“It’s not that easy.” Roslyn pushed out of his arms and shook her head. “Samantha isn’t strong. She’s not like Leila—who can take a lickin’ and keep on tickin’. And she’s not like me.” She took Patrick’s hand. “I have an incredible man who I can lean on and who can pick up the pieces when I fall apart.”

Patrick bowed his head.

“I know you’ve never cared for my baby sister.”

His head jerked up again. “That’s not true.” He hedged as he selected his next words. “I just don’t like how she emotionally blackmails you…or anyone who tries to get too close.”

“And what if Ms. Friedman is right? What if she has had a baby? Do you think that she’s emotionally stable to raise a child?”

“We don’t know—”

“Hypothetically?”

Patrick drew a deep breath and gave the questions careful consideration. “I honestly don’t know.”

Roslyn nodded and returned to his arms. “Neither do I.”

“Your sister abandoned her baby?” Garrick asked, mentally snapping pieces of the puzzle together.

“Looks that way.” Leila ripped open the thin envelope and unfolded the enclosed letter. “Dear Leila, I’m sorry.” She stopped and closed her eyes to pray for strength.

“Is that all it says?” Garrick asked, bouncing and patting the baby’s back.

Slowly, the child’s wails teetered off to soft coos.

Amazed, Leila glanced up. “How are you doing that?”

“It’s like I said—” he cocked his head with a disarming smile “—I’m a natural.”

At that moment, the little girl released a high-pitched squeal to contradict his claim.

A smug smile curved Leila’s lips.

“Any chance I can get that diaper?” he asked.

“Oh.” Leila’s brain kicked into gear. “I think I saw a bag in the kitchen. Hopefully there’s one in there.” She rushed to the kitchen and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted an unmistakable pink diaper bag on the table. “Bingo! I found it.”

She unzipped the bag and found a stockpile of tiny diapers, bottled milk, plastic toys and singing stuffed frogs.

Garrick strolled into the kitchen while making funny noises to Leila’s new niece. “She’s adorable,” he said, taking one of the diapers. “What’s her name?”

“No clue.”

“You never even met her before?”

“What can I say? Not every family is like the Huxtables,” Leila huffed, and then remembered the letter she still clasped in her hand.

Her new neighbor quickly changed the subject. “Where should I change her?”

Leila lowered the letter again and glanced around. “Uh, I guess we can do it in the living room?”

“Okay.” He carved out a smile. “Lead the way.”

Since her house was not exactly equipped with a baby-changing station, Leila settled on him lying the baby down on the sofa. Even then, she cringed at the potential mess he could make on the furniture’s expensive fabric.

“Any wipes or baby powder?”

Leila blinked as if he spoke a foreign language.

“Could you check the bag?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Leila hid her embarrassment by pivoting and racing back to the kitchen. He had to think she was a complete idiot. In ten minutes, he’d learned that she didn’t know how to hold a baby, calm a baby, or even change a baby. Yet, here she was—with a baby.

“I’ll never forgive her for this,” Leila mumbled under her breath as she grabbed the diaper bag. When she returned to the living room, once again, she watched him coo and blubber a bunch of gibberish. All of which her niece found entertaining.

“Here you go.” She handed over the bag.

“Thanks.” He quickly pulled out the items he needed. “You better pay close attention, seeing you’re going to have to do this about seven to ten times a day.”