Baby On His Hollywood Doorstep

“Let’s go see,” he said, stepping forward.

A few minutes later, Jack wasn’t sure if he was happy or not. No one answered the door and the place was locked tight. He couldn’t leave them here, not without Julia home, and Grace was getting fussy. Hungry. Wet. Both maybe. He didn’t know.

He had offered to take them to his apartment, and would, if necessary, but he wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.

Grace let out a solid wail.

Helen talked softly to the baby, but her fussiness continued. Not an all-out cry like before, but it sounded like that’s what she was working up to.

Good idea or not, he didn’t have a choice. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“To my apartment.”

“But—”

“Julia’s not home, and Grace is hungry, or wet or something.” He took hold of Helen’s elbow again and turned her back toward the trail that led through the grove of trees. “I’ll give you a ride back here in the morning.”

This time she was too busy dealing with Grace to worry about coyotes. He led her all the way to his car in the studio’s parking lot, and held the door open while she climbed in, trying her best to hush the fussy baby.

“It’s not far,” he said, dropping the bag in the backseat before closing the door and walking around to the driver’s side.

The three miles to the apartment went quickly, in some ways. To Grace, it appeared, it was way too long. She was crying in earnest by the time he parked the car.

“She’ll quiet down as soon as she’s fed,” Helen said, as if apologizing.

Like before, the sound of Gracie’s sobs did something to his heart. Though his niece would never remember this night, she was far too young, he could remember being hungry. It was a miserable feeling.

“This way,” he said, grabbing the bag out of the backseat as soon as Helen had climbed out. “Through that door and up the stairs.”

There was a total of sixteen apartments in the building. His was on the second of four floors. Solidly built of bricks, the walls were thick so he wasn’t overly concerned that Grace’s crying would disturb anyone. If it did, too bad.

Helen talked quietly to the baby, telling her everything would be all right very soon, as they hurried to the building and up the stairs. He unlocked the door and let them in, then hit the light switch, kicked the door shut and set the bag on the table near the door so he could open it all at the same time.

He found the bottle, milk and can opener. Unsure what to do, he set them on the little table. “Here, I’ll take her. The kitchen is straight ahead. You get the bottle ready.”

“Thank you,” Helen said. “I’ll hurry. I’ve rarely heard her cry like this.”

The moment he took Grace and placed her up against his chest, she stopped crying. Her little body shook slightly from the remnants of her sobs, but as her eyes met his, her little petal-shaped lips formed a smile.