Found: One Baby

Michelle was already reaching for her slippers. “I’ll be right there.”

Grabbing her light raincoat, she slipped it on against the chill of the spring evening and headed across the street. Thad was waiting for her, the wailing baby in his arms.

“What’s the matter?” Michelle asked, stepping inside.

The moment she spoke, the crying dimmed.

“You poor baby,” she soothed.

The wailing stopped altogether.

William studied her with his long-lashed, baby-blue eyes.

“Is it possible he just wanted to hear your voice?” Thad said.

Michelle scoffed and shook her head. “I only wish I were that wonderful. So what’s going on?”

“I was trying to give him his formula.” Thad pointed to the full bottle on the table next to the sofa.

Michelle walked over and picked it up. She frowned. “It’s cold, Thad.”

He looked even more clueless. “Yeah, so?”

“You’re supposed to heat it.”

He held up a hand in expert fashion. “Actually that’s an old wives’ tale. Infants are perfectly capable of taking their formula cold.”

Michelle narrowed her eyes at Thad. “Did they teach you that in medical school?”

“As a matter of fact,” he told her smugly, “they did.”

Unfortunately, Michelle thought, babies had individual quirks and preferences, just like adults. “Well, maybe that would be okay if he’d had it cold from the beginning. But he hasn’t. I gave him warm formula all day. The bottle you gave him earlier this evening was warmed, too.”

Thad appeared to think that over, but in the end refused to give ground. “Maybe he just missed you and wants you to give him his bottle again.”

Michelle’s ego liked the idea of that. Her maternal side had other ideas. “And maybe he just wants it warm.”

Thad shrugged. “One way to find out.” He handed William to Michelle.

She sat down in a chair, her raincoat still on.

His mouth quirked in barely suppressed amusement. “You can take off your coat and stay a while.”

No way, she thought. She was in her pj’s. No underwear. “I’m fine.” Michelle settled William in her arms and offered him the nipple. He looked at her with absolute trust, started to suck, then got a taste of the cold formula. He pushed it out with his tongue and kept looking at Michelle.

“He’s not crying,” Thad noted.

That was because he was busy snuggling against the softness of her breasts, the way he had all day. Michelle continued making eye contact with the little cutie. It was odd how much she had missed him, so quickly. It wasn’t as if he were her baby.

Perhaps she should remember that.

Aware Thad was still holding on to his med-school theory about not needing to warm baby formula, Michelle told him wryly, “The only reason he’s not crying over cold milk is he’s probably wondering how I got so dumb so fast. Right, little fella?”

William’s tiny mouth opened slightly. He looked as if he wanted to talk, wanted to tell her what was on his mind, but just couldn’t figure out how.

Michelle smiled, utterly besotted.

“Try the bottle again,” Thad said.

Knowing a point had to be made here, Michelle did.

William took a taste, then again pushed the bottle away with his lips and tongue. Michelle tried once more. William once more refused it. “I think we should warm it,” she reiterated.

“One problem.” Thad walked toward the rear of the house. She followed with William and the bottle. Unlike her kitchen, his hadn’t been upgraded in many years. The cabinets were painted white, and the walls were covered with a yellow-orange-and-brown-plaid wallpaper. A yellow-laminate-topped breakfast set with padded vinyl chairs were so retro they were back in fashion. The appliances were similarly dated. Even the faded yellow curtain above the sink looked like it had been there since his mother was alive. The only new items in the kitchen were a toaster and a matching coffeemaker.

“I don’t know how to warm a bottle,” Thad continued.

“Let me guess. You’ve never done any babysitting, either.”

“I’ve been around kids.”

“Not the same thing.”

“Apparently not,” he conceded.

The silence was contentious. And veering dangerously toward flirtation again. It made her nervous. “Are you paying attention?” she asked.

“Close attention.”

Okay, so he still desired her as much as she desired him. It didn’t mean they were going to act on it. She gave him the bottle. Their fingers brushed. She felt the heat of his body all the way to her toes. Swallowed. “Actually, maybe you should do this,” she told him. “That way it will be easier for you to remember.”

All business now, he said, “Okay.”

“They make bottle warmers, but we don’t have one, so we’re going to do it the old-fashioned way. There was a pretty bowl here earlier…”

“That belongs to Violet Hunter.”

Why was Michelle not surprised?

“She brought me some chili in it earlier in the week and I keep forgetting to take it back. She called after you left, offering to come by and get it tonight, but I told her I’d bring it to her at the hospital. Now, if you want me to go out to my car and get it…”

Michelle shook her head. Best he return the bowl to the lovesick nurse as soon as possible. “Where do you keep your bowls?”

He opened a cupboard, revealing a mismatched assortment of dishes, and handed one over.

Michelle shook her head. “That’s a cereal bowl. It’s way too shallow.” She paused. “Surely you’ve got mixing bowls.”

Thad gave her the blank look of a man who did not know his way around a kitchen. Michelle tried a simpler approach. “Where do you keep your pots and pans?”