She's My Baby

Leila’s eyebrows leaped up. “That much?”

“Give or take.” He flashed her a dimpled smile.

Her stomach clenched and she tightened the belt on her robe before, once again, remembering the letter. She unfolded it and read. “Dear Leila. I’m sorry. I know my leaving your new six-month-old niece will be a mild inconvenience…” Leila glanced up. “A mild inconvenience?”

Garrick looked at her but said nothing.

Leila rolled her eyes and returned her attention back to the letter. “Like me, motherhood was never a part of your plans. However, unlike me, your decision wasn’t based on the fact that you would make a lousy mother, but simply because you’re married to your career. I, on the other hand, am a screwup. I always have been.”

Leila’s voice softened. “Since little Emma came into my life, I’m seized by the fear that I’m going to screw her up as well. That’s the last thing I want to do. Emma deserves all the things I can’t give her, but I know that you can. Please don’t hate me for doing this. But I believe I’m doing what’s best for my daughter. Take care of her and love her as your own. Both of you will always be in my thoughts and in my heart. Love, Sam.”

Leila crumpled the letter in her hand. “Give me a break.”

Garrick cast another sidelong glance in her direction.

“Trust me,” she said, folding her arms. “My sister is a piece of work. Every time things get tough, she gets going.”

“But there’s a little girl caught in the middle,” Garrick said.

“Yeah.” Leila fell silent as she stared down at Emma. She could see hints of Sam in the shape of the child’s face and nose.

“Well,” Garrick said, folding up the used diaper. “I’m all done here. You have someplace I can put this?”

Panic seized her. “You’re leaving?”

“Well. There’s no real reason for me to stick around.”

Emma kicked and giggled to herself.

“Besides,” Garrick chuckled and smiled, “I don’t think this little lady will be giving you any more trouble.” He tickled the child’s sides and was rewarded with another burst of giggles. “She’s adorable.”

“But—but. I didn’t see how you did the diaper thingy,” Leila said.

“Trust me.” He laughed as he stood. “It’s pretty self-explanatory.” He tried to hand the used diaper over.

Leila turned up her nose and waved the odorous thing away. “Hold on.” She turned and bolted back toward the kitchen. When she returned, she carried her large stainless-steel garbage can with her. “Drop it in here.”

Garrick’s brows dipped in confusion, but he did as she asked. “Um, is there anyone you can call to help you with her?” He reached down and picked up the rolling child before she fell off the sofa.

Leila shook her head and set the garbage can down.

“Another family member…or friend?”

She snapped her fingers and raced over to the cordless phone on the end table. “Ciara!”

Garrick brightened. “There you go. Problem solved.”

“You’re so right. Ciara totally knows about this whole baby thing. I can pawn Ms. Emma off on her for a few hours while I hunt down my mentally handicapped sister.” She punched in the number.

He frowned. “Do you think that’s a wise idea?”

She listened as the phone rang. “What do you mean?”

“Well, apparently your sister is, uh, a little unstable at the moment. Maybe it’s not the right time to force her to take care of Emma. You know, I read an article the other day on postpartum depression—”

“What are you, a shrink?”

“No—”

“Tom Cruise?”

He chuckled. “Definitely not.”

Suddenly, Ciara’s voice filtered onto the line. “Hello.”

“Ciara! Thank God you’re home.”

“You’ve reached the Winstons’ residence. Sorry, we’re not able to come to the phone right now.”

“Damn it!” She slammed the phone down onto its cradle.

“Uh, there’s a baby in the room.” Garrick’s expression twisted as he attempted to cover Emma’s ears.

Leila waved him off. “She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

Garrick drew a deep, patient breath. “Children are like sponges. They absorb everything.”

“Uh-huh.” Leila folded her arms and scrutinized him carefully. “I take it you have children?”

He shifted Emma to his other arm. “Not exactly.”

Her eyebrows dipped to the center of her forehead. “It’s a yes or no question.”

“Then the answer is no.” He walked over to her. “But I’m a highly qualified uncle—who incidentally understands the Gerber baby meal plan, knows the difference between a hungry wail and a teething wail, and I am pretty skilled in the diaper-changing arena.” He tried to hand over Emma.

“Wait a minute…I don’t—”

“Come on. You can do it.” He slid Emma into Leila’s arms and proceeded to instruct her on the proper way to hold the child. “There. You already have the hang of it.” He turned and exited out of the living room.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

“Home.” He strode across the foyer.

“But you can’t go,” she reasoned, giving chase.

He laughed, but refused to stop. “Why can’t I?”

“Because I need you.” She reached out and grabbed him by the arm. “I don’t know anything about babies. What if—What if I—?”