Babies in the Bargain

Ready and eager.

“To meet the twins,” she said out loud, as if someone had accused her of being eager for more than meeting her nieces.

And that wasn’t the case. She wasn’t eager to see Cutty again, she tried to convince herself. How could she be eager to see the person who would no doubt be watching her every move, judging her, comparing her to Marla?

Of course she wasn’t looking forward to that. Even if the person doing the judging had turned into a staggeringly handsome man.

Aunt Kira, I’m just here to be Aunt Kira.

Aunt Kira.

And Marla had been Mom…

That seemed so strange.

Whenever Kira thought of her sister she thought of the age Marla had been the last time Kira had seen her—seventeen. Just a teenager.

But Marla had grown up. She’d been a wife. A mother.

And now she wasn’t just out in the world somewhere where Kira had hope of finding her again. Now she was lost to Kira forever. Tears flooded her eyes. Tears for her lost sister, for her lost nephew.

Kira knew there was nothing she could do to bring back either of them and reminded herself that there were still the twins. Marla’s twins. And if she couldn’t have Marla, if she couldn’t ever know Anthony, at least she could maintain her connection with her sister through those babies.

Which was exactly what she intended to do, she vowed as she left the dressing table to make the bed, fighting the longing that things had been different. That her family hadn’t ended up the way it had.

And not just because it would have been nice to have had Marla and Anthony in her life. If things had been different and Marla hadn’t been estranged from them all it might have also been easier for Kira to think of Cutty Grant as her sister’s husband, as someone who was off-limits.

As it was, she didn’t have any sense of him as family. Maybe that was part of why it was so difficult to get past how attractive he was. So difficult not to notice it. Not to be affected by it the way any woman would be affected by it.

She was determined not to be, though, Kira told herself forcefully. She was going to have with the twins what she’d missed with Anthony. To be Aunt Kira now, even if she hadn’t been before.

Aunt Kira, she thought, moving into the tiny bathroom to straighten it. Nothing but Aunt Kira.

And she meant it, too.

It was just that it would have been so much easier just to be Aunt Kira if Cutty wasn’t going to be right there with her every minute. Right there where all she would have to do was look up to see his face. Those eyes. That big, hard body…

But she wasn’t going to let herself be affected by it. She wasn’t. She really wasn’t.

She was going to do the best she could to take care of the twins, to get to know them, to earn their love, and in the process she was also going to keep their father nothing more than a sidebar to her relationship with them.

She was going to make sure of that if it was the last thing she ever did.

It was just that it might not only be the last thing she ever did.

It also might be the hardest…

Kira left the apartment at 6:45.

As she crossed the yard she wondered if Cutty would be awake yet or if he stayed in bed until the twins woke him. If that was the case and she couldn’t get into the house, she had every intention of waiting outside the back door on one of the patio chairs just to make sure that she was there the minute she was needed.

But when she got to the house the back door was open and through the screen she could smell bacon frying and see Cutty sitting at the kitchen table—his foot propped on a second kitchen chair. There were also two babies in matching high chairs on the other side of the table, and a short, plump, older woman who was setting bowls on the high chairs’ trays.

Kira felt a sinking feeling at the thought that she was already late. That someone else had had to come in to do the job she’d volunteered for.

But she didn’t want to make it any worse by wasting time standing there looking in from outside, so she knocked on the screen door’s frame.

Cutty looked away from the twins and that first glance of those evergreen eyes sent the oddest sensation through Kira. It was like a tiny jolt that skittered across the surface of her skin.

“Come on in,” Cutty encouraged.

Kira opened the screen and went in, apologizing as she did. “I’m sorry if I’m late. I thought you said seven was early enough to get here and it’s not even that yet.”

“I did say seven was early enough,” Cutty responded. “But Betty—this is Betty Cunningham,” he interrupted himself to do the introductions. “Betty, this is Kira, Marla’s sister. Anyway, Betty came over early on her way to the hospital to get her mother, and I dropped the cane coming down the stairs and woke the girls, so here we are.”

Betty had waited for him to finish, but just barely before she came to stand directly in front of Kira to wrap her arms around her and give her an unexpected hug. “It’s so nice to meet our Marla’s sister.”

Kira tried not to stiffen up at the physical contact from the stranger. “Thank you,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Betty released her and turned toward the table, extending one hand in the direction of the twins as if they were the prize on a game show. “And these are our darlings. Cutty said you didn’t get to see them last night.”

And that was when Kira got her first real look at her nieces.

She’d never been an easy crier before, and she didn’t know what was wrong with her now, but yet again quick tears filled her eyes at that initial glimpse of the two babies, who were paying no attention to her whatsoever.

There wasn’t any question that they were Cutty’s children but there was enough of Marla in them to cause Kira’s tears. Identical, they both had Cutty’s sable-colored hair in tight caps of curls that were just like Marla’s. They had big green eyes slightly lighter than Cutty’s, chubby cheeks and rosebud mouths like Marla, and the cutest turned-up noses Kira thought she’d ever seen.

“This is Mandy,” Cutty said, pointing to the baby on the right. “And this is Mel—short for Melanie. About the only way any of us can tell them apart is that Mel has that tiny mole above her left eye. We’re hoping Mandy doesn’t get one like it or we’ll have to go back to guessing which of them is which.”

Fighting the tears because she was afraid Cutty and Betty would think she was crazy if they saw them and because she didn’t want to alarm the babies, Kira went to the table and leaned across it.

“Hi, Mandy. Hi, Mel.”

They were doing more playing with their oatmeal than eating it—Mel had a handful she was squishing through her fingers and Mandy was taking spoonfuls and placing them meticulously on the tray around the bowl—but they finally looked up from what they were doing.

Kira didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t what she got. Mel immediately held out her arms to Betty as if to save her from Kira, and Mandy’s adorable little face screwed up into a look of great alarm before she let out a wail.

That made Kira really want to cry.

“Oh, no, it’s all right. I’m your aunt,” she said as if that would make any difference.

It didn’t.

Betty hurried to the high chairs, standing behind them and wrapping a comforting arm around each of the babies as she bent over between them to pull their cheeks to hers.

“Poor little dears,” she cooed to them. “They’re usually so good with strangers.”

“It’s okay, girls,” Cutty assured his daughters. “Kira’s a nice lady.”

Mandy had cut short her wail, but both babies still stared at Kira as if she were some kind of alien life-form.

“Just give them a little time. They’ll warm up to you,” Betty said.

“Sure they will,” Cutty chimed in.

It didn’t make Kira feel any better.

And it wasn’t much help when Cutty said, “Betty, why don’t you show Kira the ropes around here so the girls will eat?”

Kira didn’t think it was a good sign that she had to be removed from her nieces’ sight in order for them to relax enough to have their breakfast. But there was nothing she could do except comply and hope the twins would warm up to her. Eventually.

Disheartened, Kira followed Betty out of the kitchen.

“Really, they’ll be okay after a while,” the older woman said confidently.

“I hope you’re right.”

That seemed to put an end to the subject then, because Betty said, “Let’s start in the nursery,” and led Kira down the hallway that ran alongside the staircase and up the steps.

The second floor of the house was as much of a disaster as the first. On the way to the nursery Betty picked up a few things, but it didn’t make a dent in the mess.

The nursery itself was painted white and trimmed in mauve, with one wall papered in a print where cartoonish jungle animals all played happily in a rain forest.

There were two cribs, two dressers, two toy boxes, but only one changing table.

“That’s Mel’s bed. That’s Mandy’s,” Betty began, pointing out which was which. “But sometimes if one or the other of the girls is fussy they sleep better if you put them in the same crib.”

The older woman crossed to Mandy’s bed and began to strip off the sheet. “I probably have enough time to help you with these beds. Marla always changed the bedding every day. I’ve tried to go on doing things like she did because I know that’s what she would have wanted.”

There was a strong message implied that Kira should do things as Marla would have wanted, too.

Kira went to the other crib and began to strip the sheet from it. “You must have known Marla well.”

“Northbridge is a small town—everyone knows everyone well. And then I helped out three days a week after the twins were born so I got to know her even better. Not that Marla really needed any help, because believe you me, she didn’t. It was Cutty who brought me in but I mostly just fed the babies bottles and tried to play with Anthony while Marla did the real work. She was just a marvel as a mother and housekeeper. Actually I can’t think of anything she wasn’t a marvel at.”

Unlike her younger sister, Kira thought, as she lost her grip on the crib sheet three times before she finally succeeded in getting it stretched over all four corners of the mattress.

But at least the other woman didn’t notice. Betty just continued talking. “You should have seen Marla with Anthony. He was a sweet boy but he was a handful. It never fazed your sister, though. She was devoted to him. She was like a saint, that girl.”

Kira didn’t know what to say to that, especially since what Betty was saying was making Kira worry about how she was going to accomplish all Marla apparently had.

Betty then hurried out of the room with the sheets in her arms, saying as she did, “You can do the rest of the room later. In the meantime we can put these sheets right into the washer. Marla always did at least one load of laundry a day, and I’m sure you’ll want to, too.”

Kira watched the plump older lady stuff the sheets into the washing machine in the closetlike space that opened off the hall, hoping it and the dryer operated the same way the machines in her apartment laundry room did so she wouldn’t have to ask for instructions.

“Cutty told me this morning that he’s not having you do anything in his room. He says he’ll take care of it himself,” Betty informed her, bypassing the closed door across the hall from the nursery and moving into the bathroom where towels, washcloths, baby clothes, tub toys and various soaps, shampoos and lotions littered the space. There was also a ring around the tub and stains all over the sink and countertop.

“Baths everyday,” Betty instructed. “In the evenings before bed. That was how Marla did it. And she would never have left the bathtub dirty. Or a speck of dust anywhere or the floors unvacuumed or—well, or anything less than immaculate. I’m telling you, she was amazing.”

“She always was,” Kira said, trying to do a little in the way of straightening up the bathroom.

“Oh, honey, no. Marla kept that soap dispenser on the right side of the sink and that’s where it belongs.”

Kira put the pump bottle where she’d been told to.

Betty adjusted it to just the right spot, explaining as she did, “Marla liked everything exactly so. But I don’t have much time, and you can get this done later. Let’s go back downstairs so I can show you a few things there.”

The older woman led the way out of the bathroom and Kira followed.

There was another closed door on the other side of the bathroom and Betty nodded in that direction as they went by it.

“That was Anthony’s room,” she whispered as if it were a secret. “There’s nothing in there. Even when Anthony was here he could only have a mattress on the floor, and at the start of the summer Cutty finally got rid of it. He gave away his own bed and bedroom furniture, too. It was a clean sweep. He bought all new things for himself, but of course there was no reason to get anything for Anthony’s old room. Besides, there’s work that needs to be done in there and until it is… Well, no sense furnishing it.”

Kira glanced in the direction of the closed door, curious about what kind of work the room needed and why. But she didn’t feel comfortable asking so she merely followed Betty down the stairs as the woman continued her nonstop chatter.

“It was good for Cutty to make some changes, though. We all thought it meant he was ready to get on with his life, and we were glad to see it. For his sake and for Mandy’s and Mel’s. A person can’t grieve forever. That’s just not healthy. Would you look at this mess?” Betty said, changing subjects as they reached the living room but not taking so much as a breath to let Kira know she was suddenly talking about something else. “Two days I’ve been gone, and I just can’t believe what a shambles this place is in. You came at the right time, that’s for sure. Now I can take care of my mother and know everything here will be all right. If poor Marla saw a mess like this she’d have had a fit. Never a thing out of order—that was Marla.”

Betty went on to point out the box in the corner of the room where the downstairs toys could be put away, as well as outlining how often Marla had washed windows. And turned mattresses. And scrubbed walls. And wiped down baseboards. And polished furniture and silver. And made hot meals and home-baked cakes and cookies and her own bread.

The list seemed to go on and on until Kira began to think she might have a panic attack if she heard one more word.

Maybe Betty saw it on her face because she stopped suddenly and said, “Oh, not that you have to do all Marla did. I don’t know if anyone could do all Marla did. I’ll just be happy if you can keep everybody clean and fed and the house picked up until I can get back here.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kira said, realizing that Marla had left her a very high standard to live up to.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Betty said. “Now let me give you a quick tour of the kitchen and tell you about the babies’ schedule before I let you get to work.”

Kira followed the plump woman back to the kitchen where Cutty was trying to coax his daughters to eat.

The reappearance of Kira didn’t aid that cause because this time when she walked into the room they watched her warily and paid no attention to what their father wanted of them.

“After breakfast I get the darlings cleaned up and dressed for the day,” Betty was saying, oblivious to the twins’ continuing disenchantment with Kira. “Some mornings they’ll watch Sesame Street while I get to work on the house, or they’ll play—”

“Those are the good mornings,” Cutty contributed wryly, leaving Kira to guess what happened on the bad mornings.

Betty didn’t address it, though, she just went on. “They’re ready for lunch around noon and then I let them digest their food for about half an hour before I put them down for their naps. That’s the best time to catch up. They’ll be awake again about three or so. We try to have dinner around six. Then there are baths and hair washing. They like to look at books before bedtime—they won’t sit still if you try to read to them but if you point to the pictures and tell them what they are, they like that. I put them to bed for the night about eight or eight-thirty, and that’s the day.”

Kira felt winded just listening to it.

But she wasn’t going to let either Betty or Cutty know that and decided she would look at it all as a challenge. A challenge she was confident she could meet just the way she’d always met every other challenge in her life. After all, she’d been well-trained in meeting standards set by someone else. Plus she kept her own apartment pristinely clean. How much more difficult could it be to take care of two little girls on top of doing the housework around here?

“Okay,” she said simply enough.

“You’ll do fine,” Betty insisted, looking at her watch. “I’d better leave you to it so I can get Mom out of that hospital before she tries hitchhiking home. She warned me to be there first thing this morning or else. But if you all need me—”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ll manage,” Cutty said.

“What’s this we business?” Betty countered. “Remember, you’re supposed to stay off that ankle. You just let Kira do everything. After all, she’s Marla’s sister. She’ll be able to handle anything.”

Kira didn’t refute that because she knew she would bend over backward to do every bit as well as Marla had. As always.

“Okay, I’m off,” Betty announced.

She kissed the babies on the top of their curly heads as Cutty said, “Tell your Mom hi and that we hope she feels better.”

“I will,” Betty answered before bustling out amidst her goodbyes.

And then there Kira was, alone with Cutty and that incredible face that looked amused at something, and two babies who both eyed her warily.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Cutty asked then.

“Absolutely,” she said.

And she honestly thought she was.

Even as she glanced around at the stacks of dirty dishes, at the babies who seemed to hate her, and thought about all she suddenly found herself in charge of.

Marla had done it. And done it well.

She would, too.

“You were on your ankle too much, weren’t you?”

It was nine o’clock that night before Cutty got the twins to bed and, coming down the stairs after putting laundry in the dryer, Kira saw him flinch as he sat on the couch and raised his foot onto the throw pillow on the coffee table.

“It’s okay,” he said, looking embarrassed to have been caught showing pain.

But it was Kira who was really embarrassed. She’d been much more hindrance than help today and she knew it. She had only to look around at the chaos that had grown rather than diminished to realize just what a detriment she’d been.

“Why don’t you sit down so we can talk?” Cutty said then.

“That sounds bad. You’re going to fire me, aren’t you?”

He laughed. A deep rumble of a laugh that sounded better than it should have to Kira. “You just look like you need to sit down,” he said.

She caught sight of her reflection in the living room’s picture window and was nearly startled by what she saw. Her blouse was partially hanging out of the waistband of slacks stained with Mandy’s chicken-noodle soup from lunch, half of her hair had slipped from the scarf-tied ponytail and the other half was bulging out of it more on one side of her head than the other, and all in all she looked as if she’d just been through the wringer. In fact, she was more of a wreck than the house was.

“Oh,” she said, reaching up to snatch the yellow scarf so her hair could fall free. She stuffed the scarf into her pocket and then finger-combed her hair into some sort of order.

“Come on. Sit a minute,” Cutty urged.

She did, perching like a schoolgirl on the edge of the easy chair to his left.

Cutty’s dark green eyes studied her, and it occurred to Kira that even though they’d basically been together all day and evening she’d been so enmeshed in one thing after another that she’d hardly glanced at him.

He didn’t look any the worse for wear, though. The gray workout pants that stretched across his massive thighs and the muscle-hugging white T-shirt he wore were still clean. Even the five o’clock shadow that darkened the lower half of his striking face only gave him a scruffiness that was very sexy.

But the last thing Kira needed was to notice that now.

To avoid it she forced herself to stare at the apple-sauce caked on her shoe. “I’m so sorry about…” She shrugged helplessly. “Everything today. Really, I swear I’m usually the most organized, efficient person anyone knows. And believe it or not, my apartment is always spotless.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said. “But add a couple of busy, mischievous eighteen-month-olds to the equation and it tends to throw everything off.”

Why did he seem to think her failure today was funny?

“Even when my focus was on school and I was under a lot of pressure to get grades as high as Marla always had, I could still juggle all my work at home with all my classwork and even my research. My room at home and my apartment after I left home never looked like this…” Kira motioned to the even bigger mess all around them. “I was sure if Marla was a whiz at all of it the way Betty said she was, that I would be, too.”

“Marla wasn’t always a whiz at it. She started out having trouble taking care of a baby—one baby—and everything else, too. We both did. But as time went on—”

“I’ll get better,” Kira promised before he could finish what he was saying. “I mean it. I’ll come over here at four tomorrow morning before you or the girls are awake and—”

“Whoa!” Cutty said with a shake of his head and a big hand held up palm outward. “I didn’t want to talk to you about trying harder—”

“So you are firing me.”

“I never hired you, how could I fire you? You’re just helping out and all I wanted to talk to you about was relaxing.”

“Relaxing?” Kira repeated as if the word wasn’t in her vocabulary.

“I think you’re trying too hard and getting in your own way.”

Trying too hard? Was there such a thing?

“It’s making you kind of fumble fingered.”

“I know I seemed to drop and spill everything I touched today, and I spent all my time cleaning up my own messes rather than making any headway with the ones that were already here. I’m not usually that clumsy.”

“And when it comes to the girls—”

“They still don’t like me.”

“You’re just unfamiliar to them, and they’re missing Betty—she’s like a grandmother to them. They’ll get used to you but you can’t force it. They can be pretty contrary when you try.”

And Kira had the soiled clothes and shoes to show for it.

Still she knew he was right. The way she’d handled the twins certainly hadn’t been the recipe for success, since all they’d wanted to do was escape from her overly cloying attentions—frequently by displays of temper—and Cutty had ended up having to step in to do everything.

“I’m sorry,” Kira said again. Then, with another glance at the debris all around them, she added, “Maybe I can get some things done now.”

“I think what you should do now is go soak in a bubble bath,” Cutty said. “And we’ll start over tomorrow. Maybe without so much concern about how Marla did things.”

Kira had spent an inordinate amount of time asking how her sister did everything. “Betty said—”

“I can imagine what Betty said. But Betty isn’t here and neither is Marla, and we just need to get things taken care of regardless of what Betty said or how Marla did things.”

“Okay,” Kira agreed, thinking that that was a nice way of saying she just needed to get something—anything—done.

But then he managed to raise her sinking spirits with a simple, winning smile. “You know, I appreciate that you’re here and willing to help out. And I’m glad you want to get to know the girls. I just think things will run more smoothly if you can go with the flow. Like I said, relax. Have a little fun, get a little done. There’s no right way. There’s no wrong way. There’s no big deals.”