The Great Baby Caper (22 page)

Contrite, Courtney rushed to the
child and hugged her. “I’m sorry, darling. We didn’t mean to wake you up. And
Mark and I weren’t yelling, we were just having a—er—spirited discussion.”

“Don’t like this ’cussion,” she
muttered sleepily. “I’m for a drink of water, and Joshie has a poo-poo.”

Courtney had to smile. “Is Josh
awake?”

“No, but I can smell it.” Brittany held her nose and grimaced for emphasis.

Courtney turned to Mark and
gestured toward the guest room. “Be my guest.”

He went pale. “You mean, me, er,
change the, er—”

“Poo-poo diaper,” Brittany finished for him.

Mark gave Courtney a woebegone
look. “You must understand that I know absolutely nothing about—”

“What? With all those nieces and
nephews you claim to tend all the time? Come now, Mark. Besides, aren’t you
dying to become a family man? So, go learn, Papa. Brittany, let’s go get that
water.”

Courtney caught the child’s hand
and led her toward the kitchen. Glancing back at Mark, she was amused to see
him watching them with a look of helpless bewilderment.

Back
to Contents

Driving to work the next morning,
Courtney struggled to keep her eyes open. Mark was babysitting while she tried
to spend a few hours at the office working on the current crisis.

She and Mark had had quite a time
getting the two children settled for the night. After she’d gotten up, Brittany had been fretful and calling out for her mommy; the baby had popped wide-awake
when Mark changed his diaper, and both he and Courtney had been impelled to
walk the floor with him again until he finally fell asleep. It had been almost
one a.m. by the time Courtney had tumbled into bed and Mark had dragged himself
to the couch.

Thank heaven, duties with the
children had postponed any further discussion of their marriage. But now in the
sober light of day, Courtney was forced to reconsider her husband’s charges of
last night. Was it true that she was resisting Mark out of pride, to the
detriment of their marriage and their baby’s best interests? Did she owe it to
their unborn child to try to give her marriage to Mark a better chance?

It would be so easy to give in to
Mark, especially as much as she missed him, and considering how he’d made her
resistance seem almost petty. But she saw their problems as much more serious,
and her resistance as motivated more out of fear. Fear that Mark’s “sudden”
love for her just wasn’t real. Fear that she and Mark just couldn’t make it in
the long run. They were from different continents, with different goals. Both of
them were so strong-willed, so independent, so determined to have things their
way. Plus, she still questioned whether she was capable of becoming a good wife
or mother. Just last night, trying to care for Brittany and Joshua had been
draining and an eye-opener. Of course she loved her young niece and nephew, and
she was already deeply connected to the baby growing inside her. But the truth
was, she was scared. Could she have it all—the baby, her job—plus become the
kind of wife Mark wanted and needed? She remembered the night they’d met in New Orleans, when he’d indicated that his future wife would have to be very understanding
of the demands his career placed on him. More and more she suspected that Mark
wanted a very traditional wife who would sacrifice her own aspirations for the
sake of home and family. Meaning, she would fall into the same trap that had
claimed Vanessa.

And being tricked, then forced
into marriage with Mark had further confused her and clouded her judgment. To
be brutally honest, maybe she was still angry at him, and prideful. But that
didn’t mean they weren’t legitimate issues they needed to address. Still, she
missed him more than she wanted to admit.

Her cell rang, and fearing Mark
had already encountered a crisis, Courtney hurriedly punched it on. “Hello?”

“Hello, dear,” said Vanessa.
“How’s it going this morning?”

“Oh, Vanessa. Believe it or not,
things are worse.”

“My heaven, however could they be
worse?”

“Well, aside from the cute little
episodes of industrial espionage at work, Carla and Jason decided to go off on
a cruise, and stuck me with babysitting duty for their two youngest.”

“My heavens. And you agreed to
babysit under the present, chaotic circumstances?”

Courtney gave a short laugh.
“Actually, darling Mark agreed for me. I came home yesterday to find him, Brittany, and Joshua happily ensconced in my apartment.”

Vanessa laughed. “Mercy me, that
must have been quite a shock. Although having the children sounds like fun.”

“Normally it would be. You know
I’ve never hesitated to babysit for my sisters.”

“I know, dear.”

“But it’s just a lot of
responsibility right now, along with everything else.”

“I see. By the way, where are the
children now?”

“Mark has them for the morning
while I go into the office for a while.”

“Any progress on tracking down
your industrial terrorist?”

“Not yet, though I’ll be giving
everyone the third degree today, you can bet.”

“Well, let me know if I can help
with the children, dear. I do love babysitting.”

“Thanks, Vanessa. Believe me, I
may be calling on you.”

At the office, Courtney attended
to several urgent matters, then had meetings with staff members pertaining to
the mischief at the Colorado Springs store. In particular she grilled Gideon
and Getz regarding any possible involvement, but both men vehemently denied any
knowledge of, or participation in, the chicanery. Although Courtney still had
her suspicions, she tended to believe both men were simply too dull and
unimaginative to come up with such an off-the-wall scheme. She did ask her head
of security, Lon Wilson, to drive out to the Aurora warehouse, meet with their
distribution manager and other employees, and try to figure out how the wrong
crew could have ended up picking and packing the merchandise for the Colorado Springs store.

By late morning, Courtney was
feeling quite frustrated and harried when Roger Cambridge, manager of the south
Denver store, called. He got straight to the point: “Courtney, we need you at
the store immediately.”

“Why?”

“You might say there’s a crisis.”

“Let me guess. Grumpy face
stickers.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I take it then that you’re not
referring to grumpy face stickers mysteriously appearing on your merchandise?”

“No—but I think you’ll have to see
this to believe it. I really need your help on this one.”

Courtney didn’t like his tone—not
at all. “Very well. I’m on my way.”

She was in her car again when her
cell rang yet again. “Hello?” she blurted.

“Aunt Cor’ney, where are you?”
came a plaintive young voice.

“Brittany? What’s wrong, sweetie?”

A teary voice replied, “Joshie
misses you, and Mark.”

Panic seized Courtney. “You mean
Mark isn’t there with you?”

“No, ‘course he’s here. He just
misses you, too.” Lowering her voice, Brittany added, “Joshie did another
poo-poo.”

“Oh.” Courtney had to smile.
“Would you put Mark on?”

“Okay, Aunt Cor’ney.”

A moment later, she heard Mark
murmur, “Sorry, darling.”

“What’s going on there?”

“Nothing. Brittany just misses
you.”

Before Courtney could reply, she
heard Brittany whine in the background, “No,
Joshie
misses her!”

“Sorry, love,” she heard Mark say
to the child. “Courtney, dear, where are you, anyway?”

“On my way to the south Denver store. It seems there’s a fresh crisis there.”

“Sorry to hear that. But don’t
worry about us. We’re fine.”

Courtney had to smile at the air
of martyrdom she heard in Mark’s voice. “Look, I’m sorry I’m taking so long.
I’ll just check out the problem at the store, then come right home, okay?”

“Hurry back to us.”

“Sure.”

The south Denver store was in an
upscale strip center with a large bookstore, a clothing store, and a large
linens discounter. Courtney parked her car and hurried to the entrance. This
time she stepped inside to quite a curious scene. Plump white take-out bags and
boxes were piled near the service counter, and the smell of Asian food was ripe
in the air. At least six Asian men were lined up at the counter, waving bills
and clamoring for the attention of Roger Cambridge. Roger, an attractive,
fair-haired man in his early thirties, appeared extremely harried. He was
talking rapidly and waving both hands as if to keep the men at bay.

Even more astonishing, several
small children sat on the floor munching on egg rolls while their mothers
shopped. A baby girl in a pink dress was gleefully pulling apart the rolls and
globbing shredded cabbage in her hair, while two toddlers tossed egg rolls back
and forth—and squealed with laughter.

Courtney grimaced. Already the
store’s carpeting was a horrible mess. What was going on here?

She rushed to the counter. “Roger,
what on earth—”

Before he could reply, an irate
delivery man turned to her, shoving a bill in her face. “Lady, you the manager?
Who pay for this?”

“For what?”

“Delivery. Ten dozen egg roll.”

“Ten dozen?” Courtney gasped.

Another man stepped up. “Yeah,
lady, you order twelve dozen from China Rose, too. Now you pay.”

“I ordered?” asked a flabbergasted
Courtney. She whirled on Roger. “What is this?”

“A crisis, I’d say,” he drolly
replied. “Massive, unsolicited egg roll deliveries.”

Courtney stared aghast at the sea
of boxes and bags. “You mean you didn’t order any of these?”

He waved a hand in exasperation.
“Of course not. I’m allergic to cabbage, anyway.” He sneezed to demonstrate.

A third Asian man stepped up to
Courtney. “The order come from Bootle Baby Bower. That you, ma’am. Now you got
to pay.”

“But we didn’t order—”

“That fraud!” claimed a fourth
man, waving his fist.

“Yeah, that stealing!” added a
fifth. “I call the cops.”

“Now wait just a minute—all of
you!” Helplessly Courtney turned back to Roger. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“I’m at a loss.”

Even as Courtney spoke, she felt a
tap on her arm. She turned to see a young mother glowering at her. The woman
held a small boy who was chewing on an egg roll.

“Miss, my son is allergic to MSG,”
the woman informed her nastily. “If he has a reaction, I’m suing you!”

“No MSG, lady!” scolded one of the
deliverymen.

“Yeah, no MSG!” seconded another.

“That’s what all you guys say,”
the mother retorted. “You don’t have to stay up all night with a kid with a
runny nose and a splitting headache—”

“Madam, please,” pleaded Courtney.
“I have no idea how these egg rolls even got here.”

The woman sneered at Courtney.
“Like heck you don’t. You’re trying to entice customers by bribing their
children with egg rolls. Have you no shame?”

Courtney was at her wit’s end.
“Madam, please—”

“Save it for court, lady.”

Whirling about with her child, the
customer marched out, almost colliding with a smiling young woman with a
camera.

Watching the newcomer start
snapping pictures, Courtney rushed over to her. “Excuse me, what are you doing
here?”

The woman, who appeared about
twenty-two, with curly brown hair and an over-eager smile, asked brightly, “Are
you the manager here?”

“I’m from corporate,” Courtney
retorted. “And I repeat, what are you doing here?”

“I’m a reporter from the
Southside
Gazette
,” the woman explained. “I was in the mall when a mother told me
you had ordered thousands of egg rolls and refused to pay for them. Thought it
might make a good human interest story.” She glanced around. “Are the cops here
yet?”

Courtney ground her teeth. “Get
out of here, before
I
call the cops.”

“Well, you don’t have to be nasty
about it.” Glaring at Courtney, the young woman quickly made her exit.

Feeling overwhelmed, Courtney
started back for the counter, where half a dozen scowling deliverymen still
awaited her. “Gentlemen, I’m sorry, but we didn’t order the egg rolls.”

“Then who pay?” one demanded.

Courtney glanced at Roger. “Do you
have cards with the number of corporate headquarters?”

“Sure do.”

“Give each man a card, then.” She
turned to the delivery men. “Gentlemen, please leave your bills with Mr.
Cambridge, then call our company headquarters tomorrow and ask for our public
relations manager. We’ll work something out.” She gestured at the bags and
boxes stacked everywhere. “In the meantime, I’d suggest you gentlemen take the
egg rolls with you.”

“No!” shouted one. “You order, you
eat.”

“Whatever,” groaned Courtney.

As the men lined up before Roger
to turn over their bills and receive cards, Courtney wondered what on earth was
going on. Yesterday grumpy face stickers at the new store and projectile
vomiting at their website. Now this. Someone with a decidedly whacked sense of
humor was targeting the company.

“Aunt Cor’ney!”

The sound of Brittany’s voice
wrenched Courtney from her thoughts. She turned to watch her beaming niece
dance through the door, followed by a grinning Mark who was carrying Joshua.
Unexpectedly, her heart leapt at the sight of them. She could use some smiling
faces at the moment.

She quickly crossed over, hugged Brittany, kissed the baby, then glanced curiously at Mark. “Well, hello. What are you three
doing here?”

“Joshua missed you,” announced Brittany, hugging Courtney.

Courtney mussed her niece’s hair.
“I missed him, too.”

“We thought you might need some
moral support in your current crisis,” added Mark.

“That was nice of you.”

Brittany was glancing about. “Aunt
Cor’ney, where did all those egg rolls come from?”

“You tell me.”

“May I have one?”

Courtney waved a hand. “Sure. Why
not?”

“Joshie wants one, too!”

“Okay.”

As Brittany danced away toward the
takeout boxes, Mark regarded Courtney curiously. “So this is the fresh crisis?”

“‘Massive, unsolicited egg roll
deliveries’,” she quoted.

He laughed. “You’re sending me
up.”

“Wish I were. Some unknown person
bombed us with the stuff, and I just had to deal with six irate deliverymen.”

He shook his head. “Looks like
someone is out to make your life very interesting.”

Gently she took the baby from him.
“Interesting? I’d say someone is out to wreck it.”