The Great Baby Caper (21 page)

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“I want strawberry pizza, Aunt
Cor’ney!” piped up Brittany.

Half an hour later Courtney, Mark, Brittany, and the baby had arrived at a local pizza parlor. In a booth near the back,
Brittany sat on a booster seat next to Mark, while Courtney was across from
them; the baby, ensconced in a high chair, was happily chewing on a set of
plastic keys. In the background a musician in a bear suit was loudly playing
“I’m Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover” on a calliope, while another employee in
a clown suit was circulating about, blowing up balloons and twisting them into
shapes for the children.

Courtney glanced askance at her
niece. “You want
strawberry
pizza?”

“Yes, and Joshie wants cheese.”

Mark addressed the baby. “Is that
right, Joshua? Do you want cheese pizza?”

Joshua gurgled and stuttered back,
“Chuh-chuh-chuh!”

“The man wants cheese,” Mark pronounced.
“Either that, or a toy train.”

“But strawberry,” pressed Courtney
to her niece. “I don’t think they even make strawberry pizza, honey.”

“Sure they do—with bananas and
pineapple!”

“Oh, brother,” Courtney replied.
“I think I feel a headache coming on.”

“No, a tummy ache,” corrected Brittany. “Joshie gets one when he eats strawberry pizza.”

“No doubt,” agreed Courtney. “But
you don’t?”

Brittany solemnly shook her head.

Mark chuckled, and Courtney
gratefully watched the waiter step up. She forced a smile and addressed the
skinny blond teenager. “My niece here says you have strawberry pizza.”

The boy laughed. “Yes, ma’am, but
it’s actually a dessert. A round pastry topped with pudding, strawberries, and
other fruit.”

“Yes, that’s just what I want!”
piped in Brittany.

“But darling, you can’t have
dessert for your main course,” Mark reasoned.

“What’s a main cor’s?” Brittany asked suspiciously.

“What comes
before
dessert.”

“Oh.”

“Tell you what,” Mark cajoled. “I
doubt Josh here can eat an entire cheese pizza by himself, and he also needs
someone older to set a good example by showing him how to do it. What say you
split a cheese pizza with him?”

“Well, okay,” conceded Brittany. “But I still want strawberry pizza for ’sert.”

“Absolutely.” Mark glanced at
Courtney. “What would you like, sweetheart?”

Courtney fought a smile. “I don’t
care. You order.”

Mark ordered a small cheese pizza
for the children, a large pizza with everything on it for himself and Courtney,
milk for Brittany, and soft drinks for the adults.

After the waiter strode off, the
clown stopped by with his balloons and air canister. “Would the children like a
balloon, sir?” he asked Mark.

Before Mark could answer, Brittany declared, “Yes, I want a poodle and Joshie wants a bear!”

The clown bowed to her. “Your wish
is my command, young lady.” He winked at Courtney. “Nice couple of kids you two
have.”

Courtney felt herself blushing.
“They’re not . . . that is, we’re babysitting for my sister.”

“Ah, practicing up for your own
brood?” he asked.

Courtney was about to issue a
“none-of-your-business” style retort when Mark grinned at the man and said,
“You bet.”

She glanced at him sharply,
spotted the tender look in his eyes, and inexplicably found herself melting.

***

Courtney was half-dragging by the
time they all arrived back at her apartment. She and Mark marched the children
through their bedtime rituals. After both had been bathed and dressed in their
pajamas, Mark read Brittany a bedtime story in the guest room, while Courtney
settled in the rocking chair she’d bought for babysitting, and fed the baby his
bottle. Joshua lay contentedly in her arms, his blond curls framing his sweet
little face like an angelic wreath. He stared up at her with his solemn eyes,
occasionally reaching up to touch her cheek with his small, soft hand.
Listening to the contented sounds he made, Courtney thought of the tiny life
growing inside her, and felt very touched. Looking at the beautiful baby, she
couldn’t help but imagine what her and Mark’s child might look like. Would he
have Joshua’s round little face and blond hair? Mark’s blue eyes and dark hair?
Or would they have a little girl who looked more like herself? Was she capable
of becoming the good mother their child would deserve?

“You look very natural there,” she
heard Mark whisper.

Feeling her cheeks go warm, she
glanced up to see that he had emerged from the guest room. “Brittany’s asleep?”

“Yes. We must have worn her out at
the pizza parlor, because she nodded right off.”

Courtney nodded toward Josh.
“Well, this one is almost through with his bottle, but he’s still wide awake.”

Stepping closer, Mark blinked.
“Who can blame him? He’s gazing at a beautiful lady.”

“Get out of here,” she replied.

He held out his arms. “Want me to
walk him about? That’s usually what it takes to get my small niece and nephew
to sleep.”

“Thanks. Be my guest.”

He took the baby and walked the
floor with him while Courtney looked on from the couch. At first Joshua
squirmed and babbled; but before long he laid his head on Mark’s shoulder and
began to sing softly, sweet, baby-babbling sounds. Soon his little eyelids grew
heavy, then he fell sound asleep.

Courtney left the couch, came over
and kissed the baby’s soft cheek. She smiled shyly at Mark. “You’re very good
at this.”

“So are you,” he whispered back.

“What ages are your own nieces and
nephews?”

He smiled wistfully. “Well, my
sister Beth and her husband have two boys, Peter, seven, and William, five. My
youngest sister Merry has a girl and a boy. Madison is three and Dillon two.”

“Ah—so you’ve had experience all
across the spectrum, like me.”

“Indeed. You know, I’d really like
you to meet the rest of my family soon.”

“I . . .” Feeling a bit put on the
spot, she quickly finished, “I’d like that.”

He glanced down lovingly at the
sleeping baby, then kissed his little brow. “I’ll just go put him down.”

Irresistibly Courtney followed him
into the children’s room, where Brittany was already sound asleep, her angelic
features outlined by a night-light, a rag doll in her arms. She watched Mark
gently lay the baby in his portable crib, then cover him with a quilt. She
turned and tiptoed out in front of him, then heard him close the door.

Feeling almost shy, she turned to
him. “They’re so sweet, so special.”

“So are you.” Catching her off
guard, Mark pulled Courtney into his arms and tenderly claimed her lips. It was
a kiss filled with sweet emotion and caring, a kiss that said he truly
cherished her.

She backed away, feeling rattled.
“My, what inspired that?”

His countenance darkened.
“Heavens, who knows? Perhaps I quite lost myself in the cozy domestic scene,
and wanted to kiss my wife.”

Though a smile pulled at her
mouth, she glanced away.

“That clown back at the pizza
parlor—you didn’t want him to know we’re married, did you? Or that you’re
expecting.”

She flashed him an apologetic
look. “Mark, he was a stranger.”

“And I’m your husband, but you
often treat me like one.”

She could understand what he was
feeling. “Mark, I’m sorry. But my entire life has changed in just a few short
weeks. I need time and space to adjust.”

His gaze narrowed. “I thought I’d
been giving you that, Courtney. Why don’t you just admit it? You’re still upset
because I agreed to keep the children.”

She sighed. “Well, you didn’t ask
me.”

“I thought I explained that I did
try.”

“Yes, you did,” she acknowledged
quietly. “Still, I wonder . . .”

“Yes?”

She fixed him with her troubled
gaze. “If maybe you aren’t a little more like your grandfather than you want to
admit. Making decisions for me, trying to take charge. It has happened several
times now.”

“And just what is it you
expected?”

She spoke passionately. “I needed
to be part of those decisions—and you took them out of my hands. And can you
honestly say that part of your motive in taking the children wasn’t to get the
two of us together again?”

He fought a self-deprecating
smile. “Very well. Point made. But Courtney, I made the right decision, even if
my motives weren’t completely altruistic.”

“Okay, I see that,” she replied.
“But I’m still concerned that overall, these incidents could add up to more
than just coincidences.”

He was silent.

She drew her fingers through her
hair. “On top of that . . . well, I’ve just had a very rough day.”

At once his expression grew compassionate.
He caught her hand and led her toward the couch. “That’s right. You were going
to tell me more about your rough day.” At the couch, he gently caught her by
the shoulders and nudged her downward, then leaned over to remove her pumps.
“Come on, put your feet up, love.”

“Thanks.” A grudging smile pulling
at her lips, she did as bid, stretching out her legs on the long couch. Mark
sat down at the end, lifted her feet into his lap, and began massaging her toes
through her hose. Though tempted to protest, she found his touch far too
soothing. “Ummm, that feels good.”

“I aim to please,” came his husky
reply. “My, you must have been on your feet a lot today. Your muscles seem
tense.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I was.”

“So tell me about this rotten
day.”

Courtney explained in greater
detail about how the Colorado Springs store merchandise had been sabotaged, the
website hacked.

When she finished, Mark whistled.
“Goodness, sounds like someone with a really weird sense of humor was at work.”

“And how.”

“Although the underlying motives
might not be funny at all. Why do you suppose they did it?”

“Obviously, someone wanted to
disrupt our business.”

“Ah, a competitor stooping to
industrial espionage,” he put in soberly.

“Yes. Or maybe it was done for
revenge.”

“You’re referring to Gilchrist,
Gilmore, and Getz?”

Courtney had to laugh. “Gilchrist,
Gideon
, and Getz.”

“You suspect them?”

“I’ve certainly thought of them,
and even confronted Wally Gilchrist today. He denied any involvement and
informed me he’s leaving the company. I feel badly about it and really don’t
think he’s the one.”

Mark nodded.

She slanted him a troubled look.
“But I’ve also considered your grandfather.”

Marks hands paused on her feet and
his expression grew tense. “You actually think Grandfather would undermine his
own company?”

She waved a hand. “After the stunt
he pulled in New Orleans, who knows? Besides, I think he’d go to great lengths
to make his point, or to ensure that I looked bad.”

“Why would he want you to look
bad? You’ve always been his heir apparent. I mean, he gave you the promotion,
didn’t he?”

“Yes, but look how he reneged on
the deal with Wally Gilchrist. He seems to break his word without the slightest
twinge of conscience. Besides, he always seemed much more focused on me being your
wife than on me becoming CEO.” She paused, then added, “As you were.”

“What? Now
I’m
a suspect?”
he cried.

Courtney felt terribly torn. “No.
I mean—”

“
What
?”

“Well, it’s pretty obvious that
you don’t want me to work,” she pointed out.

“So we’re back to that again? My
taking charge? Who gets to wear the pants in the family? And you think I’d
resort to industrial espionage—a criminal offense, may I add—just to keep the
little woman in her place?”

She had to smile there; he
appeared so ferociously irate, he was comical. “No Mark, I don’t believe that,”
she reassured him. “But you must understand. Until two months ago, I was
completely independent. Now everything has changed. I just don’t like having my
life out of control this way.”

He leaned close to her, his gaze
burning into hers. “You liked losing control with me. You’d love it again if
you’d just let yourself. Only you won’t admit it.”

Courtney was silent, though her
steadily reddening face gave her away.

While his gaze continued to hold
hers, his hand boldly stroked her calf, and moved higher. “I think you’re still
angry because my grandfather forced your hand, and now you’re taking it out on
me. And I think it will take a leveling of your pride to make you see the
truth.”

Though his nearness was making her
crazy, she pressed her hands to his shoulders. “Mark, that’s not true—or fair.”

“Isn’t it? Then tell me,
Courtney—why can’t you accept me as your husband, or the life growing within
you as our child?”

“I do accept the child—”

“But not me? What’s really keeping
you from loving me, and him?”

For a moment she could only stare
at him helplessly; his expression of hurt and confusion battered her
conscience. “I—I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do know,” he countered
intensely. “You’re holding me apart with your anger. And considering that
there’s the life of an innocent child involved here, I find your attitude to be
both selfish and immature.”

She bolted upright. “Selfish?
Immature? How can you say that?”

“Then tell me why you’re shutting
me out.”

All at once Courtney’s emotions
burst forth. “Because I don’t know
why
you came into my life in the
first place. I don’t know
why
you think you love me, and I don’t know if
this will last.”

There was a moment of terrible
silence, then Mark slowly nodded. “Well, at least that’s honest.”

Courtney was staring back at him,
on the verge of tears, when abruptly a sleepy-eyed Brittany stumbled into the
room, hair tumbled and rag doll cuddled in one arm. “Aunt Cor’ney, why are you
and Mark yelling?”