Susan Meier

The Baby Project / Second Chance Baby


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Darius only stared at her. “He is?”

      “He is.” She headed for the door. “Good night.”

      “Good night.”

      Darius rose and put Gino in the crib. Sadness seeped into his soul. He’d bet she’d been the perfect mother.

      Sunday morning, when Darius heard Gino cry, he popped up in bed again. He jumped into the same jeans and sweatshirt he’d worn the night before and raced into the nursery just as Mrs. Tucker finished changing the baby.

      “He’s feeling a lot better this morning.” She caught

      Darius’s gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear him wake up last night.”

      “That’s okay. Whitney and I took care of him.”

      Before Mrs. Tucker could answer, Whitney entered the room. Their eyes met across the nursery and all he could think of was her singing to Gino the night before. The sweet motherly affection he’d heard in her voice. The easy way she’d used the song to lull Gino to sleep. And he suddenly understood why Missy had chosen her for her baby’s guardian. Whitney was born to be a mom. She really would be Gino’s mom. Not a substitute, not a guardian, but a real mom.

      Just as he intended to be a real dad.

      He could picture them two or three or even six years from now, as the perfect parents. He could see them standing with their arms around each other’s waists, waving to Gino who rode his bike along the big circular driveway in front of the house.

      He shook his head to dislodge that image. It was one thing to parent a child together. But they didn’t need to have their arms around each other’s waists. They had to be objective. They couldn’t have a relationship. He had a conglomerate to run. A life that kept him so busy he’d barely have time to squeeze this baby in. But he would. Gino would become his family. And after that there would be no time left for anyone else. Which made him the absolute worst choice of men for Whitney to get involved with. Now that he knew her past, he also knew she needed someone to love her, to understand her, and he simply had too much on his plate already. He would ignore signs that she needed to talk, or signs that she was feeling sad, or signs that she simply needed to be held. And he would hurt her.

      She broke eye contact and strolled a little closer to the baby. “Good morning.”

      “Good morning,” Mrs. Tucker chirped. “Here’s the bottle,” she said, offering both the baby and the bottle to Whitney.

      Darius raced over, understanding now why she hesitated. Being Gino’s guardian was probably a living hell for her, yet she’d accepted the job and planned to do it. “I’ll take him.”

      Mrs. Tucker put Gino in his arms and glanced at her watch. “If you don’t mind, I need to go now. Two of the maids are new and we don’t really have a schedule yet.” She smiled like the happy employee that she was, causing Darius to notice just how weary, how sad Whitney was in contrast. “If you need me, I can be free again after breakfast.”

      With the baby and the bottle in Darius’s hands, Mrs. Tucker turned away and walked out of the nursery.

      He sat on the rocker and gave Gino the nipple as he had the other times he had fed him. Gino latched on greedily and sucked down the milk. Whitney walked around the nursery, glancing at toys and knickknacks scattered on the shelves. She didn’t say anything and, try as he might, Darius couldn’t think of anything to say either.

      When Gino was finished with his breakfast, Darius burped him like a pro then rose from the rocker. “So what do we do now? Put him back to bed? ”

      Whitney smiled slightly. “I’m guessing he just woke up before we walked in. So he should spend some time downstairs.”

      Panic fluttered through him. “Downstairs? With his gums just waiting to put him in severe pain again?”

      “Of course. He still needs his cereal and I’m guessing he’ll want to play a bit. In fact it’s good to entertain him and make him happy for as long as we can.”

      Panic was replaced by fear. Yes, he’d rocked this kid, fed this kid, even changed a diaper—much to his horror—but he wasn’t capable enough to be alone with a potentially sick baby all morning.

      “Ready?”

      He peeked over at Whitney. “You’re coming with us?”

      “Sure.”

      That’s when he saw it. The sadness that hummed through everything she did was sometimes eclipsed by very normal behavior, but it was still there.

      And everything she did for Gino undoubtedly reminded her of the baby she’d lost.

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