After her father finally left, she tried to help her mother take care of the boys. Even though she was only a few years older than they were, she assumed more of a parental role than a sister’s.
But now that Ryan had graduated her job was done.
She could do all the things she’d dreamed about.
It wasn’t just a new car. She could travel.
Maybe even date.
Nothing serious. Mia didn’t want anything serious or committed. She wanted fun. She wanted adventure. She wanted to live out her dreams…if she could ever figure out what they were.
She sighed.
“You’re awfully quiet back there?”
She forced herself to put away thoughts of the past. It was better to concentrate on here and now.
“After all Katie’s screaming are you really complaining that it’s too quiet?”
“No,” he said with a laugh. “Listen, after we shop, would you come back to my house and help, just for a while? I have to get a crib and whatever else she’ll need for however long I have her. Everything will need to be set up and I’ll need help with her. I mean, I’ll take you back to the office once it’s all settled so you can get your car.”
“Sure,” Mia said, without thinking. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
A couple hours later, the car was stuffed with multiple pounds of baby paraphernalia. Mac had bought out the baby store. Watching him mull over the merits of different baby monitors, trying to decide what size Onesies to buy…well, it had been cute.
And thinking the word cute as a description for Larry Mackenzie was just too strange for Mia. She just wanted to go home and forget this odd afternoon.
She was back in the front seat as they pulled into Mac’s driveway. Almost done, she thought with a sigh as he put the car in Park and turned off the ignition.
She studied his house. It wasn’t at all what she’d expected, though she couldn’t really have said what it was she did expect.
It was a neat, two-story brick home in Glenwood Hills, a lovely, older section of town. A huge tree stood dead-center in the front yard. In the summer it probably shaded the whole house. Right now, it stood like a snowy sentinel.
“Come on,” he said. “If you get Katie out, I’ll start unpacking the stuff.”
Doing so would probably take him a while. For a man who claimed he was giving the baby up, he’d bought more than what the baby would need for the next year.
A crib, a changing table, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, toys, stuffed animals, diapers—three different sizes because they weren’t sure what size she’d need—and formula.
“Come on, Katie,” Mia said as she unstrapped the seat.
“Here,” Mac said, tossing her the keys.
Mia carried the baby onto the porch, set the car seat down on the ground and unlocked the door.
“Switches are to your left,” Mac hollered.
Mia flipped the two switches there. One turned on the porch light, and one turned on a table lamp next to a dark leather couch. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the couch and set the car seat on it.
She studied the living room. The focal points were a huge fireplace and a piano. Did that mean Mac played the piano, or was it just for show?
He had a huge leather couch and a matching overstuffed chair with a knobby-looking afghan thrown carelessly over the back. And there was a picture on the wall. No, not a picture, a painting. It was an outdoor scene. A rustic-looking barn in a snowy setting.
There was a thump on the door, and Mia remembered Mac was bringing in boxes. She ran and opened the door for him.
“Sorry.”
“No problem. I’m going to just haul everything to the guest room. Katie can use that for a room while she’s here.”
“Do you need help?”
“Let me get the little stuff first, then you can help me get the crib.”
“Okay.” She watched him make his way up the staircase to the left of the door and then turned her attention back to Katie. “Hey, you. Let’s get you unbundled.”
She unzipped the little sack that fit over the seat and acted as a coat.
“There you are,” she cooed as the baby burbled more happy little bubbles at her. “Oh, you’re going to melt some hearts, let me tell you.”
“Does she answer back?” Mac asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“No. Babies don’t generally talk at this age.”
“I thought you weren’t an expert.”
“I’m not, but you said she was seven months. I don’t think they really talk until they’re older than that.”
“Oh.”
“I’m going to leave her in the car seat until I’m done helping you. I don’t want her to get into trouble, and I might know she doesn’t talk, but I’m not sure if babies crawl at this age.”
She hurried to the door. The faster she helped Mac get the baby settled, the faster she could get out of here. This personal glimpse at Mac’s home was leaving her feeling…unsettled. She didn’t know why.
Somehow it was easier to picture him living in a sterile, bachelor pad, than this cozy little place. It felt warm, yet lived-in here. It felt…almost comfortable.
Homey.
Homey and Larry Mackenzie?
Now those were two thoughts she never imagined going together.
They carried the box for the crib into the guest room. Again, the room didn’t fit Mia’s mental picture of what Mac should have. It had a quilt on a double bed, and old family photos decorating the walls.
There was even a sampler.
Mia would have liked a chance to study all these bits and pieces of Mac, but she couldn’t figure out why she’d want to. His house might not be what she’d imagined it to be, but that didn’t mean Mac wasn’t the most annoying human she’d ever met.
“I’ll just leave you to it,” she said and hurried back to the baby. She freed Katie from the car seat while Mac went to work on the crib.