The Baby Magnet

“Hang on a second,” Luke muttered and Marie stood, waiting until he came back with a kitchen chair for her to sit on. He placed the chair behind the massive glass-topped black desk, next to his brass-nail-studded black leather and far more professional chair.

He sank, rather gratefully Marie thought, into his chair and waved her into the other. “Sit,” he said and ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up all the more. “If I remember right from last night, we’ve got maybe ten or fifteen minutes before the movie ends. When I went to get your chair Ariel had already given up her voice to become human and the king of the mer-people was being turned into a newt or something equally repulsive by this evil overweight octopus. I’ve got to admit the octopus is pretty awesome, but I’m telling you, it’s wearing thin. The whole thing is wearing very thin. Hell, I’ve had the kid for less than twenty-four hours and I’ve already got the damn movie practically memorized.”

Marie was confused. Why was he so unfamiliar with his daughter and how come she’d never heard about Carolyn before? A long-ago divorce? How long ago could it have been with Carolyn being so young? How often did Luke get to see her? There had to be a mom somewhere, but where and how did she fit into the picture? After all, it took two to tango and Carolyn was living proof Luke knew how to dance.

“Are you divorced?” she asked. “Do you just get Carolyn certain weekends a month or something like that?”

Luke scrubbed his face with his hands. “I wish. No, it’s nothing easy like that. Carolyn’s mother died a little while ago. It’d been a while since I’d last seen her. Took them a while to track me down, I guess. Carolyn’s here to stay and neither one of us is at all sure how we feel about that.”

See? She was right. Men were jerks. Except for her grandfather who’d always been there for her, but he was a lot older. Maybe they improved with age. Sort of like cheese. Then again, didn’t some varieties just get stinkier the older they got?

“You’re the child’s father and you haven’t bothered to have any contact with her before now?” she questioned incredulously, forgetting in her ire how very large he was. “They had to track you down to inform you of her mother’s death? What kind of a man are you?”

“A tired one,” Luke informed her grimly. “A very tired one. Carolyn refused to stay in her own bed last night. She kept climbing in with me. And let me tell you, that child has the boniest elbows and knees you’ll ever run into. I know. I ran into them consistently and constantly all night long. Most restless sleeper in town, no, on the continent. No joke. She got me once in the throat. I couldn’t breathe. Thought I was going to die.”

“You evidently survived the ordeal,” Marie said without a great deal of sympathy. She was amazed by the man’s total lack of sensitivity. “I’m sure she’s just feeling insecure. For heaven’s sake, Luke, her mother just died and she’s been shuffled off to a father she doesn’t even know.”

Luke half rose out of his chair and pointed his finger at her. “Listen, lady, you don’t know what—” He stopped in midsentence, paused, shook his head, then sat back down. “No, never mind. It’s nobody’s business but Carolyn’s and mine. Just trust me on this. There are things I’m not free to discuss here. They’re between Carolyn and me and we’re the ones who’ll work them out. I hope.” He’d muttered that last and Marie barely caught it.

Puzzled, she stared at him. Luke Deforest, the man who only yesterday looked like he could take on the world and win suddenly looked like he’d gone a couple of rounds more than he should have. The man looked defeated. Marie felt the tug on her heartstrings and was confused and angered. He pulled on her in so many different ways how was she supposed to stay uninvolved here? Well, she’d done her share of mothering for this month. Maternal instincts, sexual instincts and any other kind of instincts that had her thinking about jumping on the bandwagon here were just going to have to forget it. Marie was currently unavailable. Jason was enough to deal with. She wasn’t going to take on Luke and his defenseless little daughter.

She was getting going while the going was good.

Once again Marie tried to rise. “It certainly sounds like you’ve got your hands full so I’ll just get out of your way. You’re not ready to leave and I’m sure the insurance company can deliver the loaner car to you if you ask. Here, I stopped and picked this up on the way over.” She tried to hand him a copy of the police report she’d filed. “I’ll leave this here for you to look over and I wrote down my phone number and insurance information so you can—”

“Daddy?”

If Marie hadn’t been looking right at him, she wouldn’t have noticed the slight recoil.

“Yes, Carolyn?”

“All done.”

“The movie’s over already?”

In other circumstances, Marie would have laughed at the look of sheer panic Luke wore. She was sure he’d never admit it, but he was so obviously clueless as far as how to entertain the child that it was almost funny. Funny in the abstract, that was. Funny only until you took a good look at the little girl. Yesterday Carolyn’s face had been buried in Marie’s chest. When the child had finally fallen asleep in her car seat, her features had been red, swollen and splotchy from crying.

Today, well my goodness, today Carolyn was a beautiful child not yet a yard tall with crooked wheat-colored pigtails cascading in curls to her shoulders and soft brown eyes framed with embarrassingly long lashes. There was a spattering of freckles running over her cheeks and bridging her nose. As Carolyn’s top teeth bit into her quivering yet pink perfect lower lip, Marie noted those teeth were small, white and charmingly askew. Luke would drop a quick five grand straightening those in a few years, Marie decided.

Oh, God, Carolyn was still virtually a baby and she was so forlorn and lonely-looking as she stood there uncertainly in the doorway. So lost and vulnerable appearing as she looked to Luke for guidance as to what to do next in this foreign house with this foreign dad in this foreign town.

Marie’s heart went out to the little waif. Marie was a goner.

Not liking this situation didn’t change it.

“It’s almost lunchtime,” Luke finally suggested hopefully after staring nonplussed for several seconds. “How about if I open a can of tuna fish and put it on whole wheat bread? Doesn’t that sound good?”

Marie did a double take and stared at him. He was kidding, right?

“Do we got any hot dogs? I like hot dogs,” the child offered hopefully.

“A hot dog.” Luke raked a hand through his hair. He’d never get it to lie flat again, Marie suspected. “Let me look. Maybe there’s a package in the freezer. A hot dog’s protein. Sort of,” he mumbled to himself. “But there ought to be vegetables. Kids need vegetables to grow right.” He snapped his fingers. “A salad. We could have salad.”

Marie shook her head. Luke was lost, no doubt about it. No two-year-old worthy of the name would willingly eat salad. The man was definitely out of his milieu. Of course it would be a month or two before he’d admit it.

“Uh, Luke?”

“Yeah, what?”

“What about grapes or a banana? Don’t you have some fruit you could cut up for Carolyn?”

“Yeah, I suppose.” He frowned as he mentally reviewed his grocery supplies. “Maybe.”

Tactfully Marie suggested, “That might be a better choice than salad. Maybe you could convince her to try a little bit of carrot if you cut it up into matchstick size, but you might want to hold off on the salad for a little while.” Like twenty years.

Luke frowned and studied the tot. “I don’t want her to develop bad eating habits.”

“No, no, of course not,” Marie quickly assured. “But it would be all right to work up to salad, wouldn’t it? I mean, you could start with cooked carrots with a little brown sugar on them and go from there, couldn’t you?”

Luke picked up the paper clips from the holder on his desktop and began pouring the clips from hand to hand and back. “I don’t know. I’m still not sure about this hot dog thing, either.”

“It might be easier. Just for today, you know. Until Carolyn’s a little more at home, that is.” Marie gave the guy a month, two tops. She, too, had prepared only nutritious balanced meals and snacks when she’d first taken over responsibility for Jason. There’d been a lot of tension, unhappiness, and sneaking out to the local fast-food burger place with friends until Marie had finally caved. She’d never regretted sinking to PB and J and pizza. The peace alone was worth it. Now she slipped him his grains and oatmeal in cookie format, his milk and calcium in pudding or tapioca. Veggies were still a sore point, but life, if not perfect, had at least been salvaged from the proverbial toilet, which was about all you could hope for with an adolescent on the premises, Marie had decided.

At the time, Marie had had her epiphany. She’d discovered that all of life was a balancing act, a compromise if you will. Luke would eventually discover the same truth, but it needn’t be quite the same rough journey she’d made.

“Then maybe, after lunch, if she doesn’t need to nap, you could take her to a park. There must be one around here somewhere.”

“Kiddie Kingdom’s not too far,” Luke said, thinking out loud. “That’s not a bad idea. Then maybe she could watch another movie while I got some work done. I’ve still got to unpack those few boxes they sent along with her and I bought her some stuff for her room, sheets and things that match, more for a little girl, you know? Barbie. My sisters used to play with her and what’s his name—Kevin, Kent, whatever. Amazing, but she’s still around. It’s all still in bags in the front hall.”

She’d noticed the bags. The front hall was probably right where Jason had dropped them. They’d made no progress since then. Marie rubbed her nose and considered the possibility that the bags’ lack of progress might be partially her fault. If Luke was frazzled, their accidental meeting yesterday might have something—not a lot—but something to do with it. She guessed it wouldn’t kill her to at least come up with a plan of action before she left.

“That’s a good plan,” Marie agreed tactfully. “But instead of another movie, after they deliver your car why don’t you stop at a home improvement place—you know, one of those glorified hardware stores—on the way home from the park and get a sandbox, a slew of sand, a bucket and a shovel? Then she could be playing actively instead of sitting passively while you work.”

Luke’s posture visibly straightened. He was definitely perking up. “That’s another decent idea, Marie. Thank you. I’d have eventually thought of it myself, of course, but this is good. Maybe a swing set, too. Kids like those, don’t they? Maybe I’ll get one of those fancy ones with a fort on one end and the sandbox underneath. There’s a house down at the end of the block with one like that.”

“They take time to assemble,” Marie warned. “It certainly won’t be done any time today. But I bet Carolyn would enjoy helping you open the packages you’ve got in the front hall and arranging her room with you.”

Luke was in a fever. Marie expected him to start taking notes any minute, although he kept his tone cool. “That’s good, Marie, that’s really good. I appreciate your input. Now, what do we do after that?”

What, he expected a minute-by-minute itinerary for the next fifteen years or so until Carolyn went away to college? Good grief. She thought fast. “Well, uh, walk up to the grocery store and get whatever you need for dinner. Walking will eat up some time and it’s good exercise for her. Help wear her out a bit for tonight, you know.” That should make it more appealing to him. “Stop in the school supply aisle and get her some construction paper, um, crayons—” Marie waved her hand expressively “—whatever else you see that looks interesting. She can color or mush that kiddie dough stuff while you get dinner ready. Hands-on experiences are very important for her age,” Marie concluded, hoping she sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

Luke was all admiration. “That is brilliant, absolutely brilliant.” He gave Marie a calculating look. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to—”

Marie concentrated on looking regretful. “Gee, I wish I could stay and help, Luke, but I’ve got to get back. Can’t leave an adolescent on his own too long. You never know what he’ll get up to. Why, right this minute he’s—” Marie swallowed her words as she thought. She wasn’t about to admit Jason wasn’t even home just then. “That is to say—”

But Luke wasn’t leapfrogging his way up the corporate ladder for nothing. He’d caught her slight hesitation, understood its meaning and pounced. “He’s what?”

“He’s at an audio equipment store with a friend who’s already got his license drooling over this outrageously expensive surround sound system he’s pressuring me to buy,” Marie admitted glumly. She’d checked out how long his friend had had his license and made sure Jason was the only other kid going to be in the car but still, she’d known letting Jason go out was a bad idea and here was the proof. She had no excuse now not to stick around and help Luke out.

Not only did she doubt it would be properly appreciated, she also had the issue of her own self-survival to consider.

Plain and simple, she didn’t want to be around Luke Deforest. He was too darn virile. Too appealing to that core of womanly essence deep inside her—the core she’d been sure had died an unnatural death a couple of months back. Marie shook her head in sorrow over her pitiful state. Basically, Luke made her ache. He made her yearn for things. Impossible things she’d long given up on having.

Luke was speaking. Marie shook her head to clear it and tried to catch up.

“—top of the line. We’ll have to get him over here and let him watch a movie or something—”

“You have surround sound?”

Luke gave her a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what I was just saying?”

“Do you have one of those subwoofer things?” Marie asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, sure. Of course.”

Marie slapped her thigh with her hand. She knew it. She just knew it. It was obviously a male thing. Some defect in the Y chromosome. She’d been right all along in her decision to have nothing further to do with the male half of the human race, relatives unfortunately excluded.

“You pwitty.”

Marie’s internal diatribe disturbed, she looked down. Little Carolyn had edged her way over and now stood right in front of her. Marie smiled. “Not half as pretty as you, sweetie.”

Carolyn turned to Luke for confirmation. “Her pwitty.”

Luke studied Marie for a disconcertingly long time before responding. “Yes, honey, she is. Very pretty.”

Marie couldn’t control her blush.

Carolyn caught Marie by the pant leg and didn’t appear inclined to let go. “Her have a hot dog too, Daddy?”

Luke smiled, a bit evilly in Marie’s opinion. “Absolutely. All we have to do is convince her to stay. Why don’t you ask her? I bet Auntie Marie couldn’t turn down a sugarplum like you.”

“Oh, all right,” Marie said, giving in. “I’ll stay. Just for a while. But I want the tuna fish on whole wheat.” And her capitulation had absolutely nothing to do with wanting to spend more time with Luke. Absolutely nothing.

Chapter Three

For a large man, Luke could move. He jumped from his chair, startling Marie. It was almost as though he didn’t want to give her time to change her mind. But that made no sense. He’d never made any pretense of liking her.

Then he said, “Tuna on wheat. Got it. Everybody out to the kitchen. Hup, two, three, four.”

Carolyn reached up and took Marie’s hand as they dutifully followed the leader. “Now,” Luke inquired scant minutes later as he waved the tin of fish in the air. “What do you want in the tuna? Pickle relish? Onions? Celery seed?” He’d found the appropriate can in the cabinet, the electric opener was at hand and raring to go. He even attempted a smile and Marie found those particular muscles hadn’t totally atrophied since yesterday afternoon after all. They still worked.

“Celery, the real kind not just its seeds, a small amount of onion—” not that she was going to be kissing anybody except maybe Carolyn “—and mayo, thank you,” Marie replied primly. Celery seed? Yuck. “And I want my bread toasted, please.”

Luke waved two slices of whole wheat across the room in the general direction of the counter with the toaster before handing the bread to her. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” she muttered dryly and wondered why Mr. Gracious had bothered to invite her at all. He never had been Mr. Hospitality. Ah, well, she was used to taking care of herself—and anybody else who came along. She could handle it.

Luke had heard the unspoken criticism in her tone but he didn’t bother to acknowledge it. None of his present circumstances were any of his doing. None. And he was not feeling the least bit gracious. “Milk, pop, juice in the fridge. The cups are in the cabinet over the dishwasher.”

Marie sighed as she dropped the bread into the toaster slots and pushed the lever down before going in search of the glasses. “Don’t have many guests, eh, Mr. Deforest? Your manners appear to be a tad rusty.”

“Ms. Ferguson, you did not pick a happy time to have your uncle ram my car. I’m feeling just a little bit persecuted myself right now and quite frankly, am not up to doing the congenial host bit. Now, Carolyn appears to have taken a shine to you and it would be a whole lot easier on me if she was happy sooner rather than later. The way I see it, you owe me. I didn’t break your uncle’s neck the way I wanted to, after all. And the payback I’d like most of all would be for you to get us on the road to happy familyhood around here. Do that and I will personally buy you the most expensive dinner at the swankiest place in town.”

Marie all but snorted. The accident had not been her fault, either. Let Jason teach Luke about the joys of family life. She herself knew only what she’d read about conventional happy families. Marie hadn’t seen her father since she was five when he’d had a doozy of a midlife crisis and taken off to “find himself.” As far as Marie knew, her father was still someplace out there hot on his own trail. Her mom had taken to drinking to fill the void. She’d ended up pickling her own internal organs and had died of cirrhosis of the liver.

Marie had been raised by her grandfather and stepgrandmother Pearl from the time she’d been eight. Jason had come along a year later. Pearl was much younger than her grandfather but still old for a first-time mother. She’d concentrated so hard on acquiring newborn parenting skills that she’d given Marie enough room to run a bit wild. Still, Marie gave Pearl credit. She hadn’t treated Marie like Cinderella. Not at all. In fact, Pearl had been a sweetheart who’d tried hard to never take undue advantage of her non-traditionally structured family’s built in baby-sitter. Then, two years ago, Pearl had died. Breast cancer hadn’t been detected until it was too late. Sometimes it seemed to Marie that she’d spent her entire life dealing with desertion and or death.

Her grandfather had always been there for her, bless his cantankerous, irreverent heart. He was a rock, but even rocks eventually wore down. Grandpa still struggled to do his best, but he was seventy-five now and no longer spry. It was taking his bones forever to knit themselves back together after this last fall. Marie would cut out her tongue before admitting it to anyone, but sometimes she was so scared. What if her grandfather never got his strength back? Who would she have then to help her deal with Jason? No one. It was a scary thought.

Marie refused to allow herself to dwell on the possibility. She’d made a conscientious decision to simply take each day as it came. The tables were now turned. It was payback time. Grandpa needed her care and her help raising his son. Marie wasn’t like her mother or father. Admittedly there had been a few years when Marie had been momentarily, uh, dazzled by life on the edge, but basically she believed in responsibility. She could delay finding herself for a few more years. Provided she lived through this current period with her mental faculties still intact.

Marie’s expression softened as she watched Carolyn carefully dunk diced hot dog chunks into the blob of ketchup Luke had dabbed onto her plate. Now this little sweetie was a piece of cake compared to Jason. The adolescent mind was a foreign land with few landmarks recognizable to anyone outside of the ages fourteen through about twenty. You did what you could to get them through this period alive. Psychological damage didn’t matter. So long as they were still breathing by the time they hit twenty or so, which was a definite challenge in and of itself, they could go see a shrink to undo any emotional damage you’d done in an effort to ensure mere physical survival of the species.

Of course by then, you were in major need of a shrink yourself.

Marie smiled fondly down. Yes indeed, this little munch-kin would be easy. All she really needed to flourish for the next ten or twelve years until she hit the dreaded fourteen was lots of hugs and kisses, large and small muscle activities, and plenty of sleep and food. Marie had no doubt that with that combination little Carolyn would grow and flourish just like a weed.

Luke became almost affable during lunch and to Marie’s surprise, he had some decent knock-knock jokes he shared with Carolyn, who didn’t get them at all. Marie, however, found herself chuckling a time or two. It was interesting to watch the tension leak out of him as the meal progressed. What did he have to be so stressed about? And why did he keep looking at Marie with those narrowed, considering eyes?

Carolyn munched contentedly on her hot dog pieces, banana chunks, and the scant handful of pretzels her miserly father had provided. She was tucked into a spot between the two adults and continually glanced from one to the other as if in need of reassurance that they were still there.

“More pwetzels? Pweez, Daddy?”

Marie watched in amusement as Luke nudged a small pile of matchstick carrots closer. “First finish your milk and eat some of these yummy carrots. Then we’ll see.”

Marie narrowed her eyes as the ploy worked. Maybe if you got them young enough…hmm. Of course, she’d eat anything Luke prepared for her, too. Even if he just got it out of the bag for you, there was something about Luke that made you want to cooperate. Heck, the average female would be so mesmerized by Luke himself, she probably wouldn’t even realize what she were doing until the deed was done. What a sad, sad commentary on the female of the species—to be so easily duped.

Carolyn seemed happy with the graham cracker she got for dessert—the young were so refreshingly naive and innocent, weren’t they? After cleaning up, they piled into Marie’s car and headed for Kiddie Kingdom. Kiddie Kingdom just happened to be right across the street from Potawatami Zoo, an act of serendipity if ever there was one.

Carolyn chattered the whole way home. “She’s worn me out,” Luke admitted with a groan after releasing Carolyn’s restraints and lifting the child out.

“Me, too,” Marie agreed and laughed when she couldn’t restrain a yawn. “I really have to go now,” she added. “My grandfather’s grass needs cutting. Jason was supposed to do it when he got back from ogling the displays at Media Central. I don’t understand this subwoofer fixation of his, but I suppose it’s better than finding girlie magazines hidden around the house.”

“As far as Jason’s concerned, it’s probably a toss-up between the lingerie catalog, the car magazines and the electronic supply warehouse,” Luke decided after briefly considering the age of the subject involved.

Marie made a mental note to go through the catalogs stacked on the sofa table in their small family room and pull anything involving underwear or lingerie. “You’re probably right. At any rate, I told him I was only going to ask once because I was tired of arguing every time I ask him to do something. If it didn’t get done, I said I’d do it myself but then I wouldn’t take him driving again for at least a week.”