Scrambled Babies (6 page)

Paeton’s face lit up.  “I’ve got it!  I’ve got it!”  Fred looked apprehensive.  He started to speak.  She held up her hand.  Sophia was back.  “Sophia?  Tell Mr. Kaselman that I am a woman with an extremely sensitive sports story.”

Paeton had no way of seeing Sophia roll her eyes.  How many “extremely sensitive sports story” messages were left with her every day?  “Yes, ma’am.  Anything else?”

“Yes.”  Paeton smiled victoriously at Fred.  “Tell him my favorite candy bar is
Baby
Ruth!”  And she put a heavy emphasis on “baby.”  “Here is my number, seven one four, five two seven, zero eight three five.”

“May I ask who’s calling?”

“Uh, simply say someone he met recently at an
airport
.”  And she emphasized “airport.”

“Okay, thank you, ma’am.  I’ll surely give him the message.” 

Had Paeton been in Steve Kaselman’s New York office, she would have seen Sophia hang up, look at the message, and say aloud, “Man, another real kook!”  Then she would have seen Sophia put the message up to her mouth, spit her gum into it, and deposit it into the wastebasket.

But since Paeton was not privy to Sophia’s abrupt disposal of her “urgent message,” Paeton smiled as she hung up the phone.  “That ought to get a response.  When do you think he’ll call us?”

Fred mused, “I certainly hope so.  I can’t wait until we’re out of this mess!”  Fred thought a moment.  “Well, let’s see.  The game should be over about nine.  Give him an hour or so to do locker-room stuff and get to a phone for messages—which I hope he does.  Uh, ten o’clock, seven our time.”

“Hmm.”  Paeton checked her watch.  “Little after five?  What are we going to do for two hours?  I can’t stay cooped up in here.”

Madison
came out of her room.  “Mommy, I’m hungry.”

“Okay, honey.  We’ll get something to eat in a minute.  I know I can’t eat a bite.  You hungry, Fred?”

“Me?  Yes, I guess I could use something.  I have an idea.  How about we look at homes for you.  The evening temperature is nice.  And Vera always has someone available to show homes.”

Paeton was pacing about the living room.  “Homes?”  She thought a moment, then sighed heavily.  “Okay.  Yes, that would be good.  I guess.  Now that I’ve heard Kelsey cry and know she’s safe, I feel somewhat better.  And we have to wait anyway.”

“Good, I’ll call Vera’s office.”  Fred picked up the phone and punched a number.  “Vera Kredabal, please.  Vera?  Fred Hollister.  Remember?  I’ve been talking to you about getting a place for Paeton McPhilomy?  The romance novelist?  Right, right.  I know it’s late, but if we came over right now, is there someone there who could take us out?  Good.  We’ll be there shortly.  Yes.  Thank you.” 

Fred went over to Paeton and took her by the shoulders. He started to say something, but she leaned into his chest.  “Fred?  Kaselman will call, right?  I can’t take much more of not being in touch with the person who has Kelsey.”

Fred pushed her gently back.  “We’ve made it this far, sweetheart.  He’ll probably pick up his messages soon after the game, call us, and we’ll meet and exchange babies.  All done.  Let’s see, it’s about five-fifteen.  About two hours, Paeton.  Hang on for two more hours.  Come on, let’s have some fun finding a house for your family.  I’ll call downstairs to get us a car.  There’s a Taco Bell on the way.  At least Maddy and I can get a bite.  Sure you’re not hungry?  You should eat.”

“I’ll eat after Kaselman calls.  I’m too jumpy right now.”  Paeton folded her arms tightly in front of her.  “And he’d better call!”

Chapter 3

Oh, my god! This isn’t my kid!

Steve Kaselman was in the restroom on a commuter flight from New York to Boston to be color man for the Red Sox for the evening baseball game. He stood over the exposed face of a baby he expected to be his! The resemblance was uncanny, but he did know his own kid—and this baby wasn’t his kid!

What have I done? How is this possible? Where would I get someone else’s—
And then when he opened the diaper—
Wait  just a goddam minute!  A girl?  This is a girl!  What in the living hell is going on?  Whose baby is this?  Where the hell is Ryan?  Jesus Christ, what have I done?  Kidnapped someone’s kid?

He tried to clear his memory. Was there any time he let go of Ryan’s childseat? He made a rule to never let Ryan be out of his sight and, when in an airport or wherever, never let go of the childseat.
Wait a minute! That amazing moment keeping a gorgeous mother from tripping over some kids running around in the airport! She grabbed my arm—I set Ryan down to keep her from falling—our eyes—oh, god, our eyes locked—hold it! She had to set her childseat down too! And she had a killer mouth! Christ, this is killer-mouth’s little girl who, except for the sex equipment, could pass for Ryan!

Steve was fascinated by a female twin of Ryan.  He looked closely at the baby’s face.  He recognized the minute distinctions that made this baby not his.  But the kid’s face was covered with the blanket until he began to change her diaper. 
Cryin’ out loud, Steve, you should have been more careful picking up the childseat!
Yeah, right. Who am I kidding?
  He knew damn well why he had been careless.  He had locked eyes with—
god, what a mouth!
  She had turned him into a blithering idiot.  He’d been walking around as if he had OD’d on hormones ever since they’d locked eyes.

He analyzed the situation for a moment
.  So there’s no real kidnapping going on here.  It’s all a crazy mistake.   Just a real—or should I say—“unreal”—trip!
  He laughed again.  The little lady smiled back.

Damn!
  He felt a tug at the corner of his left eye.  The twitch that took three months to subside after Crystal left him was back.  He felt his face grow hot and his mouth go dry.  He finished diapering the child—a little girl who wasn’t his! 

His pulse raced as it used to when he saw a defensive end closing in on him.
 But where in the world is Ryan?  What in god’s name do I do?

Then a hollow laugh escaped him—someone else was discovering, or soon would be discovering, exactly what he had just discovered!  Someone would eventually have to be peering down, unbelieving, at Ryan’s manhood instead of—! 

But it wasn’t funny!  It was spooky as hell!  Still, he couldn’t suppress another feeble laugh.
 Let’s face it—this is hysterically funny!  I only wish I were watching it in a movie!  I could never have dreamed up anything this nutso! 

But he wasn’t watching it in a movie.  He was living it in an airplane.  And the reality he was facing was that, technically, he had kidnapped someone’s little girl.  Bad things happened to people who did things like this
.  Damn it, Steve!  Get serious.  You’ve got someone else’s kid, for god’s sake!  The woman with Ryan must be going crazy!
  Of course, technically, she had kidnapped Ryan.

Women always went bonkers at things like this.  Not that this wasn’t a big thing.  But he was glad he didn’t have a wife right now.  She’d be clawing the door to the front cabin, demanding that the captain turn the plane around and go back to find her baby.

His twitch persisted.  He studied the child’s face, shaking his head in disbelief at how identical this baby was to Ryan.  Steve replayed the scene with the woman at the airport
.  We both ended up with the babies on the floor so I could catch her when those kids ran into her.  She grabbed my arm for support, and I set Ryan down to steady her.  Yes, that must have been how it happened. 

He looked at the travelseat and blanket again.  Now that he thought about it, they were identical to Ryan’s.  So he and the woman both shopped at Bloomingdale’s.  They had identical kids.  He wondered what else they had in common.

Then Steve realized what they
didn’t
have in common—this woman wasn’t a national figure.  So this woman, this assuredly panic-stricken woman, would call the cops as soon as possible.  Probably already had.  This woman would have no idea how a screw-up like this could affect his career.  Chances were optimal that the media would have a field day with this one.  He envisioned the papers:  “Steve ‘America’s Mr. Mom’ Kaselman, nationally famous syndicated sports columnist and announcer, can’t tell his boy from a girl!”

The tug at his eye grew stronger and more persistent
.  Calm down, Steve, old boy.  Calm down.  This is pretty scary, but you can handle it.  You’ve handled screwy things in the past.  Nothing this screwy, but—

“Hey, buddy, you ever coming out of there?” called a thick Long Island accent outside the door.

“Hold your horses.  Hold your horses.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

A sound of exasperation came in reply.

He was back at the airport again. 
Christ, what held our eyes like that?  And her mouth—son of a bitch, I wanted that mouth!  I couldn’t look away to pick up Ryan.  I just reached down and—oh, oh!  I did it!  I picked up her kid!  Those damn kids tearing around like that must have kicked the childseats around.

Then he berated himself
.  Wait a second!  Don’t blame yourself so quickly.  It could have been her fault.  Can’t she keep track of her own kid, for god’s sake?  Wait until I finally meet her!  I’ll tell her a thing or two!  She could cost me my career!  She’s the woman, for god’s sake! 

This felt good!  He found his hands on his hips, his face jutted forward, telling this woman off
.  Yeah! I paid attention.  I saw that I had picked up that damned overpriced stuff I bought at Bloomingdale’s!  Who would think to check if the babies were different?  She’s a real mom.  She’s supposed to notice stuff like picking up the wrong kid.
  He laughed again.  This time nervously.  Why couldn’t he stop laughing? 

The little girl smiled and made gurgling sounds.  “Hey, you’re a laugher too.  But I have to tell you this isn’t funny right now.  Maybe after I meet your mommy and we switch you kids back, it’ll be funny.  Right now your mom is definitely scared to death.  And that is not funny.  I don’t want you to think I’d laugh at that.  Okay?”

The baby smiled back to his announcer-quality voice.

Steve focused on the infant girl.  Studied her features.
 Jesus Christ!  It’s the truth—this kid could pass for Ryan’s twin!
 
If this gets out, the media will have a field day!
Then he paid particular attention to the infant’s mouth.  His pulse jumped. 
There it is!  That mouth!  She’s going to bewitch some guy totally the way her mother bewitched me!

The switching of the babies, the magic something that had passed between his and the woman’s eyes—the whole incident was the most bizarre—and he had to face it, sexiest—thing that had ever happened to him!  Steve wondered if he and bewitching-mouth could get past this blunder.  Was it possible that the two of them?—
Naw!  Come on, Steve, are you nuts?  A woman that amazing?  She’s got to be married, for god’s sake!
 

The baby girl issued a sweet cooing sound, bringing Steve back to the situation at hand.  The grave situation at hand.

The amusement was over.  This was not a fabulous prank concocted by one of his buddies at the network.  It was a serious goddam screw-up, and he needed to pay attention to keep the fallout as minimal as possible.  His eye twitched again in response to his thoughts.