Secrets of a Shy Socialite

“Since the benefit for Jaci’s crisis center.”

Almost two weeks. “Jena was at the benefit?” Justin had run security for the event. How could he have overlooked her?

“You really need to work on telling the two of them apart,” Ian said. “It’s not all that difficult.” After a moment Ian added, “Time to man up and help Jena with your daughters.”

Daughters.

Justin didn’t want daughters. Didn’t want to be a father. Did not want his life to be contorted into something unrecognizable.

CHAPTER TWO

JENA missed Marta something fierce. She bounced Abbie gently while patting her tiny back. Knowing her old nanny had been a few doors down the hall had eased many of Jena’s new mother insecurities and fears. Of course the girls had been perfect angels then. Textbook infants.

Nothing like this. Abbie arched her back and let out an unusually shrill cry.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetie girl,” she whispered against the baby’s cheek, hoping hearing the words would make her believe them. It didn’t work. Jena’s heart pounded. Don’t panic. You’re a nurse. You can handle this.

“When did she last eat?” Jena asked Mandy, starting with the most basic reason the twins cried.

“Mrs. Calvin and I fed them about an hour and a half ago.”

Moving on to diaper, Jena walked down the hall and set Abbie on the changing table where she writhed and kicked her tiny legs making it difficult to unsnap her outfit.

Diaper dry. Shoot.

Jena stripped off Abbie’s clothes and examined her naked body for signs of irritation or anything out of the ordinary. Aside from a red face, the only unusual thing identified during her careful head to toe assessment was a firm, maybe a bit distended, belly.

Please be gas.

“Jaci told me to give you this.” Justin walked into the room and handed her a bottle. He stared down at Abbie, still looking a bit shell-shocked.

“I’m sorry you found out like this,” Jena said, fastening a new diaper. “I’d planned to give you some warning before—”

A milky-looking fountain spurted from Abbie’s mouth. Jena flipped her onto her side and rubbed her back. “Hand me a cloth.”

Justin did. “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know.” Worry seeped into her voice. But maybe after spewing out the contents of her tiny tummy Abbie would feel better.

Wishful thinking, because she sucked in a breath and started to cough and sputter.

“She’s choking,” Justin so helpfully pointed out, pushing Jena closer to all out panic.

No. Think like a nurse. She sat Abbie on the changing table, and, supporting her chin leaned her forward and patted her back.

Airway clear, Abbie’s screams turned even more intense, desperate for her mommy to do something to help her. But what?

Helpless tears filled Jena’s eyes as she struggled to dress her squirming infant in a soft cotton sleeper. She picked her up and tried to give her the bottle while she hurried back into the living room. Abbie clamped her lips closed and turned her head, refusing the nipple. “How long has she been like this?” Jena asked Mandy.

“A good forty-five minutes before I brought her back. Mrs. Calvin and I tried everything we could think of to calm her.”

If Mrs. Calvin, Jaci’s upstairs neighbor who’d raised five children and had been helping out with the twins since Jena’s return, couldn’t solve the problem, Jena had little confidence she’d be able to.

“She said sometimes babies just need to cry,” Mandy said.

But not like this. For close to an hour. And what if Jena weren’t here to see to the needs of her daughter? Would Abbie’s unknown caregiver allow her to cry, alone in her room, for hours and hours, totally unconcerned with her discomfort and distress, thinking ‘sometimes babies just need to cry’? Jena’s heart twisted uncomfortably. As soon as this was over she’d make a note regarding how she’d like this situation handled in the future, should she not be around to deal with it, knowing there was no guarantee her wishes would be followed. She swallowed a lump of despair.

“We need to get her to a doctor,” Justin said in his police voice, taking charge.

“I’ll watch Annie,” Jaci offered.

“It’s probably just gas,” Jena said, hoping that was true.

“But you don’t know for sure,” Justin pointed out.

“No.” Jena fought for composure. “I’ve never quite mastered the ability to read minds,” she said, maintaining an even tone. “Even if I had, I imagine reading an infant’s mind must be pretty darn difficult considering they haven’t yet acquired the skills necessary to communicate.”

Justin raised an eyebrow. “So quiet Jena has some bite, and sarcasm is your weapon of choice.”

Yup. But she didn’t usually speak it out loud. “I don’t have a pediatrician in the area yet, which doesn’t matter since the office would most likely be closed now, anyway. And Abbie hasn’t had all her vaccinations,” Jena said. “I can’t take her into an emergency room crowded with sick people.”

Jena paced and rocked and patted. Abbie screamed. What to do? What to do? A pressure behind her forehead made her eyeballs feel on the verge bulging out of their sockets. An emergency room visit. The absolute worst case scenario. No insurance. Maxed out credit cards. They couldn’t turn her away for inability to pay, could they? The humiliation. But this wasn’t about her and her stupid choices. This was about Abbie.

“I know a pediatric urgent care center,” Justin said. “Twenty minutes away.” Perfect. Maybe the car ride would put Abbie to sleep and they wouldn’t need to go inside. “I’ll need a ride.” Jena threw it out there to no one in particular. Pathetic rich girl chauffeured from place to place all her life, she’d never bothered to learn to drive. And at age twenty-four she couldn’t even drive her daughter to seek medical treatment.

“I’ll take you,” Justin said. Before she could tell him she’d rather go with Jaci, or Ian, or Mandy, or anyone but him, he added, “Come on,” and headed for the door.

Like a mother of twins could simply run out of the condo on a moment’s notice.

Men.

“I have to—”

“Here’s a car seat.” Ian walked out of the second bedroom she temporarily shared with the girls. Not all men were as clueless as Justin.

“Diaper bag restocked and ready,” Jaci said, holding it out to Justin, who, rather than reaching for it so they could get underway, stared at it like Jaci was trying to pass him a severed limb.

So sorry she hadn’t purchased a diaper bag worthy of a macho cop. “I like pink,” Jena said, snatching the bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. “Does the car seat meet with your approval or should I carry that, too?” She shifted Abbie and wrapped her in a baby blanket. Jaci slipped a little pink hat on Abbie’s head and gave her a kiss.

“Lord help me,” Justin said, taking the car seat from Ian. “I’ve never seen this side of her. She’s got a mouth like Jaci.”

Not quite. But Jena smiled, welcomed the comparison, because Jaci stood up for herself. Jaci didn’t let people take advantage of her. Jaci could handle anything.

Justin made the twenty minute trip to the pediatric urgent care center in less than fifteen minutes. Apparently speeding, passing on double yellow lines, and ignoring red lights were perks of the police profession. If not for the seatbelt that kept her lower body anchored on the back seat of his SUV, Jena had no doubt she would have been tossed around like a forgotten soccer ball. During the harrowing ordeal she held on to Abbie’s car seat which was strapped in beside her, her attempts to sooth her daughter and ignore Justin’s aggressiveness behind the wheel both futile.

Abbie’s unrelenting crying filled the car, echoed in her head, vibrated through her body.

Justin slowed down—thank you—and turned into the parking lot of a darkened, somewhat rundown strip mall in a not-so-nice part of town. “Why are you pulling in here?” He parked in front of the one lit storefront. The Pediatric Urgent Care Center. “It doesn’t look …” Professional. Clean. Safe.