Surprise Dad (6 page)

Thirty minutes later Mike was a trained father. A father figure, that’s what he was. But trained was one thing. Being a good father figure was a whole different thing. And he didn’t even know where to start.

“W
ANT TO SEE
a restaurant in action?” Mike asked Brian when they were alone.

Brian yawned deeply.

“Bedtime soon,” Mike told him, “but D-Dad,” he stumbled over the word, “has to go to work for a few minutes first.” He heaved himself up off the sofa and took Brian downstairs.

Five minutes later, he realized he’d made a terrible decision. First, Colleen and Becky zeroed in on Brian, and Allie, who was plating desserts, had to pry them away to deliver the last orders of the evening.

Allie herself looked as if she’d like
him
to put desserts on plates so she could hold Brian. It sounded like a good idea to him, too, so he handed the baby over to her, glanced at the order slips and started slicing the
cherry pie. And what did she do? She took Brian out into the restaurant to show him off.

From the pass-through, he heard her telling his lie to the regulars, that a friend who coincidentally looked just like him had left him a baby. They neglected their perfectly cooked—he hoped—properly hot—he hoped—dishes to play kissy-face with Brian.

The lie circled around him like a shark waiting for him to make just one mistake. Brian’s resemblance to him didn’t go unnoticed, and he saw a few quizzical looks exchanged among the women.

He also saw he’d just cut up a whole cherry pie and put the wedges on plates. He checked the order and saw that everybody at the table had ordered something different.

“Oh, shoot,” he muttered. He’d had a baby for one day, and he was already falling apart. He stalked out into the restaurant and took Brian away from Allie. “Your shift in the kitchen,” he told her, smiling for the customers’ benefit, and for her ears only, “and please do something with all that cherry pie.”

M
IKE WAS EXHAUSTED
, but not too exhausted to get up a dozen times in the night to see if Brian was still breathing. On Saturday morning at five, he heard gurgles and coos coming from what had once been his office and was now Brian’s room. Once upon a time, as in two days ago before he went to Boston, he could wake up at five-thirty and still be in the kitchen by six. Those days were over.

Mike changed Brian, washed him off—he needed a lesson before he attempted a full bath—and after examining the supply of baby food, decided that cereal was a logical starting point. He held Brian on his lap to feed
him. He’d need one of those chairs kids sat in to eat, but Brian seemed perfectly happy on his lap, gobbled down his cereal and was delighted by the pureed apricots straight from the jar.

Curious, Mike tasted them. They weren’t bad, although, personally, he might have added a pinch of mace, an eighth of a teaspoon of cinnamon. Or maybe a touch of grated fresh ginger.

After he’d fed his new baby and washed him off—again—and changed his diaper—again, he dressed him in the outfit Lilah had laid out—an overall kind of thing embroidered with seriously cute ducks and a yellow turtleneck to put under it. He had no place to put Brian while he showered, shaved and dressed except the crib. Brian complained, his babbling sounding cross and impatient, and Mike couldn’t blame him. He understood, oh, wow, did he ever understand, the frustration of being ignored. They had to have some kind of chair, or swing, something Brian could sit in and watch Mike shave.

Down to the restaurant they went. Weekend mornings were the busiest, and Maury was already there, preparing for the rush. Allie was at the stove getting a head start on the homefries.

Mike took a look at the homefries. Not your usual Mike’s Diner breakfast potatoes. Black here and there…but you can’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If you lost a few customers, so what.

“Ah,” she said brightly. “You both made it through the night alive.”

Colleen and Becky arrived with a couple of the strangers he’d seen last night, then the first wave of customers. Toast burned and over-easy eggs turned into hard-cooked ones while they all, even Maury, left their jobs to engage Brian in conversation. At last Mike
grabbed a sausage, wrapped a pancake around it, moved himself and Brian to the corner of the room farthest away from the action and directed things from there.

This situation had to change, too. But how?

First, he had to hire temporary help. Real, experienced help. But before or after he bought equipment for Brian? Depressed, he ate his makeshift breakfast, then checked on his customers.

Everyone who’d come to dinner the night before had told everyone who might come to breakfast this morning about the baby, so he had to go out and make the rounds. Nobody complained about the eggs, the potatoes or the cold biscuits. Every customer was smiling—at Brian, who rewarded them with gurgles, waves and occasional dives at their plates.

Of course, Brian didn’t understand the lifted eyebrows, the knowing looks, the sidelong glances among the diners that went along with the smiles and coos. Mike was glad that at least they were able to separate the two issues. Brian was perfect even if he might possibly be Mike’s illegitimate child.

The breakfast crowd didn’t dissipate until almost eleven, much later than on weekdays, and he took Brian back upstairs while his motley crew cleaned up and got to work on lunch. Glumly he surveyed the boxes and bags, the piles of unpacked clothing and toys stuffed into every nook and cranny of his apartment. It was a nightmare come true.

He’d barely had time to change Brian’s diaper—was it normal to be wet as often as Brian seemed to be?—when his whole family descended on him.

“You still need a high chair and lots of other baby equipment,” Lilah announced. “Are they shipping any of those things from Boston?”

“His furniture looked like a store display,” Mike said. “I told the lawyer not to bother. I’ll need to buy all that stuff.”

Lilah took Brian from him. Mike would have liked to think he wasn’t relieved, but he was. Getting used to being a parent was not a piece of cake.

“I’d like to help with the shopping,” she went on, “but I’ve got my hands full with the kids today,” she said. “Give Allie time off to go with you.”

“Hey, he doesn’t need a woman to help him buy for this kid,” Ian protested.

Lilah laughed. “I wasn’t being sexist, just practical. I heard that Allie’s been helping out in the church’s daycare since she was twelve and was everybody’s favorite babysitter. She probably knows a few things about babies.” She looked pointedly at Mike. “Do you?”

She had him, and they all knew it. He looked at Daniel, his brother with the most knowledge of children.

Before he could even start to ask, Daniel laughed. “No way. I’ve got patients three deep at the clinic.”

Mike glanced at Ian, who said, “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I hate to bother Allie again,” Mike said. “She’s already taken on too much since Barney’s attack.”

“Maybe you should pay her,” Ian muttered.

“I am paying her. You think I’d ask her to work for free?”

“No, pay her for helping with Brian. You know, like a nanny.”

“That’s a separate topic,” Mike said. “We were talking about baby equipment.”

“Just looking ahead,” Ian said. “You’re going to need help.”

“Ask her,” Lilah said. “She might say no, but you can always ask.”

“I’ll ask her if she’ll help me shop, but I’m not going to ask her to be a nanny.”

At the very moment he needed Daniel’s mediation tactics, Daniel was digging through the toys, frowning when he found one that had a lot of small pieces.

Ian shrugged and started going through a box of books. He held up one of them. “While you’re shopping, get the kid some books besides leather-bound gift sets of
Kidnapped
and
Treasure Island.”

“And clothes,” Lilah called out from Mike’s bedroom, where she’d gone to change Brian.

“You brought up four boxes of clothes last night,” Mike protested.

“Right, and most of them have to be ironed. Or dry-cleaned.” She emerged from the bedroom with Brian, whom she’d changed into navy trousers and a wool sweater.

Mike blew out a sigh. He needed help. Lots of it. So maybe asking Allie to go shopping with him was an imposition, but it would be just one afternoon. “Okay, I’ll ask her,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else in the room.

“Of course you will.” Ian stood up and started down the stairs.

Mike frowned. Was Ian going to ask her himself? Or bring her up here?

Lilah handed Brian back to Mike. “I have to go, and so does Daniel. But we’re as close as the phone if you have an emergency.”

What was she talking about? His whole life was an emergency.

“I appreciate what you’ve already done,” he said,
leaning his head away from Brian, who’d latched on to his earlobes, “more than I can tell you.” Good thing the kid was so cute.

Ian shoved open the front door. “Here she is.”

An obviously confused Allie followed him into the small living room. Her gaze landed on Mike and Brian.

“Ian said you needed to talk to me immediately.”

Mike shot Ian a frown, which his brother ignored, then back at Allie. “Um…I was wondering…I mean if you wouldn’t mind…could you—”

“The man needs a nanny,” Ian said bluntly. “He wants you. He’ll pay big bucks. Okay?”

“Ian!”

Ian just shrugged at the chorus of voices. “Needs to be said.”

“I was only going to ask her to go shopping,” Mike said, really irritated at Ian. But at the same time, he suddenly saw himself in the kitchen
without
Brian on his left hip, saw himself cooking with both hands while Brian was up here in the apartment, happily playing with Allie. The thought was nearly irresistible.

He looked back at her. She’d gone completely still, her eyes round and unfocused. He felt an edge of anger, not at her because she was going to say no, but at himself for wishing she’d say yes.

T
HE VOICE
in Allie’s head was her mother’s. “Allie, you’ll get attached to that baby and you won’t want to go back to school.” Realizing everyone was staring at her, she finally found her own voice.

“You can’t imagine how much I’d like to take care of Brian,” she said slowly. Her eyes dropped to the floor. She couldn’t look at any of them, especially Mike. “But
I’ll only be here until January, and I’m supposed to be doing whatever it takes to decide on a new course of education.”

“Of course,” Mike said swiftly. “You can’t take on a full-time job, especially one that…that…”

“That takes so much emotional energy,” Lilah said quietly. “I’m sorry. We weren’t thinking.”

Now Allie could face Mike. “I hope you can understand. Maybe I could help in some other ways, like keeping him out of the way in the restaurant, and I know a lot about babies from all those years of taking care of them at church, so I could offer you advice…” She trailed off. Mike was giving her an embarrassed smile.

“All advice welcomed,” he said.

To Allie’s relief, the room came to life again, the three brothers talking about Barney and hiring more help, Lilah making funny faces at Brian and saying, “We could easily keep him for you from five to ten, Mike…”

Allie felt tears welling up. “I’m sorry,” she said one more time. “I guess I’d better get back to work.” And she fled down the stairs.

She felt horrible, but she’d done what she had to do. “You’ll settle right back into the valley,” her mother had said. “You’ll be a waitress the rest of your life.”

Or a nanny for the next twelve years. She knew herself too well. Establish an emotional attachment to Brian, and she’d never leave.

And then there was the fact that Brian looked enough like Mike that they could be father and son. No. She wouldn’t think about that. It was impossible.

At the foot of the stairs, she paused. The restaurant wasn’t all that busy. They didn’t really need her.

She went back up the stairs, where Mike looked surprised to see her. “I could help for a few minutes right now,” she told him. “I could take Brian for a walk.”

“He doesn’t walk yet,” Mike said.

Allie gave him a “how dumb can you get” look. “In a stroller,” she said.

Mike looked at Lilah. “He doesn’t have a stroller.”

The way the whole crew fell silent and began to stare at her made Allie nervous. After a long moment, Lilah said, “If you wouldn’t mind going with Mike to Baby Heaven in Rutland this afternoon, he could outfit Brian a lot faster.”

“Lilah…” Mike said in a warning tone.

“Sure.” Allie smiled, feeling much better. “I’d be happy to do that. What about two o’clock, when the diner quiets down? You’d be back in time for dinner.”

“I can’t,” Mike protested. “I have pot-au-feu to cook.”

“You don’t have a stroller,” Ian said. “Or a high chair or that thing you were talking about, a chair that rocks and rolls, or whatever, so Brian can watch you shave.”

“For a man who was scared to hold a baby, you’re all of a sudden an expert?”

“Time out,” Daniel said. “If you don’t get the stuff you need, the next few days will be a nightmare. So figure out something simpler for dinner, and then go shopping.”

Allie waited for the verdict.

“Okay,” Mike said, looking like a man sentenced to death, “I guess that’s what I have to do. After I check in on Barney.”

“H
OW DOES
he look today?” Allie asked Mike when he joined her in the hospital lobby after he’d spent a few minutes with Barney.

Mike sighed, worry etched on his face. “Better. More color in his face. He just needs to take it easy for a while. Which isn’t what he wants to do. Hey, Brian, did you shake up the place while I was gone?” He held out his arms for the baby.

“He was an angel,” Allie said. “He smiled and waved at everybody who walked by. He’s a real charmer.” He
was
charming, and warm and soft while she’d held him in her arms. She steeled herself against falling in love with him.

“This was Barney’s wakeup call,” she told Mike. “He’ll have to change his lifestyle, get some exercise…”