Kris Fletcher

First Came Baby


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was asleep, so she asked me to keep an eye on him while she ran to the store. Ten minutes, tops.”

      Which had been true. What had turned out to be false was the assurance that Tristan would sleep through her entire absence.

      “As soon as she was out of the driveway and around the corner, he woke up. And I could tell something was wrong. He was shaking. Hard. His arms and legs were jerking and he kept tossing his head back and forth while he made this weird sound.”

      Kate lowered her free hand, which she had cupped over her mouth as soon as he launched into the description. “A febrile seizure?” she whispered.

      He wasn’t at all surprised that she knew what had happened even without seeing it. “Yeah. That’s what it was. The thing is, I had no idea what the hell was happening. For a minute there I thought...well... You can imagine all the things I figured might be happening.”

      “Boone, you were twelve. Nobody would expect you to—”

      “I know. The thing was, I also didn’t know what to do about it. And so instead of leaving him in his crib and calling for help, I picked him up and tried to hold him.”

      Kate’s quick inhalation told him that she’d figured out what had happened faster even than it had played out in real life.

      “It was so fast. One minute I was putting him up on my shoulder, and then he twisted and threw himself backward.” Boone glanced up at the ceiling to steady himself. Even now, twenty years later, he could still feel his hands trying to grip Tristan as he arched and flew back. “He, um, hit the floor. Hard.”

      Kate probably had no idea that she was clutching Jamie tight to her chest. “Oh, God. Boone. You... He... What...”

      “Broken leg. Concussion. Hairline fracture of the collarbone.”

      Kate’s death grip on Jamie eased slightly. “Oh, that poor sweet bunny. But at least... I mean, those are all things that can be fixed.”

      “Yeah.” Not that that had been much consolation at the time. Boone would never forget the cold rush of panic that had raced through him when Tristan’s moans had become high-pitched howls of pain.

      “I guess that explains why you were a little freaked at the thought of holding Jamie.”

      Kate’s soft words pulled Boone back from the past trap. He focused on Jamie’s wary eyes, the hideous cupboards, the hum of the refrigerator. Here. Now. This was what mattered. History was just that. He couldn’t change it but he could learn from it.

      And he could damned well make sure it didn’t ruin the moment.

      “So. I guess we kept Jamie waiting long enough.” He made himself smile as he reached for the spoon. “Shall I?”

      It was ridiculous to be so warmed by the pride in Kate’s eyes, but there it was.

      “Absolutely.” She pushed the bowl in his direction. “Just put a little on there, and slip it in gently.”

      He could do this. He would do this.

      Jamie’s eyes followed his movements as Boone scooped up a hummingbird-sized portion of slop and aimed for the target. But his son was no dummy. At the last second, he turned his face so the food ended up smeared across his cheek.

      “Crap.” Boone caught Kate’s eye. “Wait. Am I allowed to say that in front of him?”

      She tapped her finger against the end of her nose. “Well,” she said after a moment, “the other day, I dropped a hammer on my foot and let loose with some words that I’m pretty sure were never spoken in Nana’s house before. So trust me. He’s heard far worse.”

      That was a relief.

      “And by the way,” she added softly, “the first time I gave him cereal, I made it too thick and gave him too much and he choked on it. For a few seconds I thought I was going to have to do the baby Heimlich on him.”

      Boone was pretty sure she’d told him about that for his benefit far more than from any need to confess.

      Did that make him any less appreciative? Oh, hell, no.

      “Go on,” she urged softly. “Try again.”

      Boone loaded his spoon once more and leveled his gaze on Jamie, now rocking back and forth on Kate’s lap. His little arms windmilled at his sides.

      “Is he trying to take off?”

      “Hope not,” she said. “He doesn’t have a passport yet.”

      Babies needed passports?

      “That’s something I thought maybe we could take care of while you’re here,” she said. “Not that I’m planning any major adventures for the next while. I’m probably going to stick close to home for the near future.”

      The satisfaction in her voice told him she didn’t have any problem with that.

      “But my great-aunt Donna is in the States, in Vermont, and I know Mom would like us to visit before I go back to work in November.”

      “Oh. Sure, whatever you need.” Boone squinted at Jamie. “Okay, kid. We’re going to do this. My job is to get the spoon to your mouth. Your job is to open up. Got it?”

      Jamie stopped baby break-dancing and stared at Boone. It was almost possible to see him making the mental leap. Big guy...not Mom...doesn’t know how to hold me...

      His mouth opened. Probably to cry, but one thing Boone knew was how to take advantage of an opportunity. Praying he wouldn’t hit something, he popped the spoon into the opening and deposited the food.

      “There you go!” Kate all but applauded. It was ridiculous. Though not as ridiculous as how pleased he felt about it himself.

      Jamie, of course, chose that moment to let loose with the wail that had been brewing. Kate picked him up and put him on her shoulder.

      “Don’t be so fussy,” she said. “This is your daddy. And you are very, very lucky to have him.”

      * * *

      AN HOUR LATER, Kate zipped Jamie into his front pack, grabbed a clipboard, and headed outside to survey the property with Boone.

      He was already out on the porch, walking slowly from one end to the other, carefully putting his weight on each board as he stepped.

      “How’s it look?” She handed him the clipboard.

      “Other than those spots you already know about, the floor is solid. A half a dozen new boards, a fresh coat of stain or paint, and it should be good. We’ll need to replace some of the railings, too.” He scribbled something on the paper. “You said you got estimates on these repairs already?”

      “Right. I thought the best strategy would be to figure out what needs to be done, then balance what you and I can do ourselves against the cost of everything, and go from there.”

      “Prioritize. Right.” He nodded, started to write something, then stopped and looked down at Jamie. “Sorry, buddy. I forgot to get your input.”

      Jamie shoved his hand in his mouth and gnawed, but he didn’t start crying.

      It was a good sign, but Kate opted against saying anything. She didn’t want Boone to feel that she was watching his every move, or judging his interactions with Jamie, especially after the mealtime revelation.

      She shivered. Dear Lord, what else was Boone keeping bottled up inside him?

      No, it was definitely best to let things unfold naturally. All Boone and Jamie needed was some time and togetherness.

      She refused to dwell on the thought that time and togetherness were the most limited factors in this relationship.

      Instead, she laughed. “You want proof that you can take a guy out of Canada but you can’t take the Canadian out of the guy? You just apologized to a baby. For something