The Christmas Angel Page 14
Jane was still fussing, so Emily sang to her and talked to her, then waved around a few toys, seeing if any of them would interest her. No, not a bit. Emily checked her list. It was close enough to feeding time. Maybe that was it. She was hungry again.
She took a bottle out of the fridge and heated it in some water on the stove. She needed to make more bottles; there was only one left. She had to sterilize the bottles first, though, she remembered. She had a list for that somewhere that she had copied from one of Jessica’s baby books. When Jane took her long nap later, she would take care of everything, Emily decided. For goodness sake, she ran an entire town. She could manage a little baby.
Then the phone rang. It was a man Dan had interviewed for his book, asking if Dan had received the deeds he faxed over; his machine indicated a problem. Emily’s eyes widened as she realized he was talking about old deeds that Dan had been searching for for months. “Just a minute,” she told the caller. Still holding the baby, Emily rushed up to Dan’s office, saw that the fax machine’s paper feed was jammed, and managed to clear it while Jane lay in Dan’s big armchair, protesting the fact that she was being ignored.
Ten minutes later, back in the kitchen, Emily realized that she had left Jane’s bottle in the water too long and that it had gotten too hot. Jane was crying in earnest now, she was so hungry. Emily felt bad for her. She ran the bottle under cold water, but it was taking a long while for the formula to cool down again.
This can’t be all that complicated, Emily told herself. She just had to figure out the right timing for heating formula.
Finally, she had the bottle at the proper temperature and gave it to Jane. Silence was truly golden, she thought. And Jane looked so cute drinking her formula, Emily forgave her instantly for all the raucous crying.
The phone rang again. This time Emily decided to let the machine pick up. She wasn’t about to disturb Jane while she was happily eating.
“Ms. Warwick, this is Carla Nickerson. I was supposed to stop by your place this morning to talk about that babysitting job? Well, all the snow has put me off. I don’t drive in the bad weather. I’ll call you back and maybe I can come some other day, okay?”
Carla Nickerson, Emily thought. That was too bad. She had such good references, recommended by a friend of Jessica. Emily was practically counting on the lady working out, desperately hoping she wouldn’t have to go through a long search for a babysitter.
But it was definitely a problem if Carla didn’t drive in bad weather. There was nothing but bad weather in the winter, and the other seasons weren’t that reliable either. Carla would be missing work every other day.
“So you won’t be interviewing Carla Nickerson today,” Emily said, acting as if she were Jane’s private secretary. “Let me check the rest of your schedule, dearest girl. We have a feeding, a bath, a nap, another bottle. Another diaper, I suspect. Some playtime on the baby mat—build up those muscles?” Emily tickled the baby’s bare foot and watched it curl.
The phone rang again and this time Emily answered it.
“Mayor Warwick?”
“Yes?” she said, switching quickly to her dignified, official voice.
“It’s Ralph Clancy, from the Public Works Department. I’m calling about those documents from the government, the grant the town was awarded. You need to sign those papers, Mayor. They have to be returned to Washington today.”
“Oh, yes. I completely forgot. It’s been a busy weekend . . .” Everyone in town seemed to know that she and Dan had picked up the baby on Saturday. Ralph Clancy, however, didn’t reply.
“The papers are sitting right on my desk,” she told him.
“Well, can you come in a minute and sign them? It’s important.”
“That would be . . . difficult right now.” The baby had fallen asleep on her lap. It wasn’t her nap time, Emily thought with a quiet panic. What now? Was she supposed to let her sleep or keep her awake awhile?
Could she take her out in the snow? That didn’t seem wise. Emily glanced out the window. It was still snowing, and Dan had taken her Jeep because it had four-wheel drive. She only had Dan’s little compact, which she didn’t trust in the snow, even for the short distance to Village Hall. “Can you have someone bring them over? I’ll sign them and they can bring them right back.”
“I suppose so. Wait, you need to be witnessed by a notary. I’ll have to find one who’ll come.” He sounded annoyed at her now, but it couldn’t be helped. She had expected to go in to her office for a few hours on Saturday; then the call about Jane came, and she had dropped everything.
“I’ll see what I can do, Mayor. I’ll call you back,” he said curtly.
“Yes, please do,” she said and hung up the phone.
She suddenly realized she was still in her bathrobe. She really should shower and dress before someone from Village Hall showed up. But what to do with Jane? Put her in her crib? Or maybe her infant seat, just outside the bathroom door?
They never mentioned this kind of dilemma in the child-care books, she realized.
Emily put the baby in her infant seat again, and Jane started to cry. Emily knew she wasn’t wet or hungry, so she had to assume she just wanted to be held. Sure enough, the moment she lifted the baby into her arms, the crying stopped. But how could she get anything done around the house if she had to hold Jane all day?
She didn’t want Jane to be upset, so she decided to put off the shower until the baby slept. Resting the baby against one shoulder, Emily walked through the house, trying to get a few chores done. She hauled the laundry basket one-handed into the laundry room, then filled the washer with Jane’s clothes and started up the water.
But there was no soap. Now what was she going to do? Jane didn’t have that many outfits yet. If she dirtied this one, which was only a matter of time, she would be down to a diaper and an undershirt.
“We can’t go shopping, so I guess I’ll have to rinse out a few things by hand,” she told the baby.
She fished out some necessary items and took them to the kitchen sink. Still balancing the baby on her hip, she hand washed the clothes with some dishwashing liquid, wrung them out, and tossed them in the dryer. They would likely take all day to dry, considering that she wasn’t able to squeeze that much water out. But what could she do? She had all day to wait, she realized.
It was only nine thirty. Emily felt as if she had been up for hours, but nothing around the house was done. The breakfast dishes were still on the table, the living room was littered with newspapers, and the bed upstairs was still unmade.
The phone rang again, and a familiar voice said, “Hi, honey, how’s it going?”
Emily felt a surge of happiness go through her. Had he decided to turn around and come home? She hoped so.
“Fine, it’s going fine,” Emily told her husband. “Everything’s great. How are you doing? How are the roads?”
“The roads are clear as soon you leave our area. No problem at all,” he said in an annoyingly cheery tone. “I’m making good time.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but it looks like I took the car seat by accident. I didn’t even notice it. You weren’t planning on going out today, right?”
“Well, if I was, I can’t now, can I? Unless I take her out in her stroller.”
“The snow is too high for a stroller. You won’t be able to roll it. You’ll get stuck, Emily.”
“Oh, of course.” She hadn’t been planning on leaving the house, but now that she couldn’t, she felt caught. Trapped, actually. “When will you be back?”
“I don’t know. Depends on how my appointments go. I’ll call you later, when I have a better idea.”
“All right. I’ll be here.”
“Sure you’re okay? Is the baby doing all right?”
“Oh sure. She’s just fine. She wants me to hold her all the time, though.”
Dan seemed to think that was sweet. He didn’t understand the implications. “Well, you enjoy
your time with her. You’ll be back in the office soon enough.”
Yes, she would be, Emily realized. She considered the comment with mixed emotions.
They both hung up, and she tried to settle Jane in her infant seat for what seemed the umpteenth time. This time, however, she set the seat near a mobile so Jane would have something distracting to grab at. The mobile did the trick, and Emily actually managed to clear the table, get the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, and clean out the sink. Jane seemed content to sit in the infant seat, with an occasional bounce from Emily as she passed to and fro.
Emboldened by this success, Emily decided she would tackle the bottle situation. She gathered up all the empties and filled a big pot of water to sterilize them. She knew she could be using disposable plastic bottle liners, but Jessica had insisted that the plastic was bad for babies—too many chemicals leaching into the formula. You certainly didn’t want that.
Jessica had turned out to be a bit extreme in her precautions, Emily thought, making her own baby food for Tyler from strictly organic, unprocessed foods. Well, that was very healthy, Emily was sure, but it certainly took time. She wasn’t sure she would have either the time or the motivation to make organic baby food.
Jane was still so young. The only solid food she ate now was a little cereal, so it wasn’t really a question. Yet.
Emily glanced in the cupboard, searching for more cans of Jane’s formula. She didn’t see any and felt slightly panicked. Dan had probably put them in some other closet. She pulled open one door after another, searched above and below, behind boxes and cans that hadn’t been moved for years. Still no formula.
Now she felt really panicked. What would Jane eat all day? She only had one bottle left that the baby would take in a short time. Dan wouldn’t be home until late tonight, and she had no car seat to go out to the store. She would have to find a place that delivered.
The idea almost made her laugh. None of the markets or drugstores delivered in Cape Light. More likely, she needed to call someone to help her. Emily wasn’t used to calling on anyone for help, even friends. She was used to being the one people in trouble called up to help them.
The pot of bottles bubbled and boiled away. Emily wasn’t sure how long it took for them to be officially sterilized. She found one of Jessica’s baby books in the living room, one with yellow Post-its on critical pages, but couldn’t find the page she marked about bottle boiling.
She smelled something funny and rushed back into the kitchen. The water boiling in the smaller pot that held rubber nipples and bottle caps had all but boiled away. The nipples were scorching and melting at the bottom of the pot!
Oh . . . bother! Emily grabbed the pot, nearly burning her hand, and tossed it in the sink, then ran cold water over the mess. A huge mushroom cloud of steam erupted in her kitchen.
Startled by all the excitement, the baby started wailing. Emily ran over and picked her up. She had nearly forgotten poor little Jane was sitting there all this time.
“Oh, sweetie pie. Don’t worry. It’s nothing . . .” Emily ran into the next room to escape from the smell in the kitchen.
Now what would she do about nipples? She hoped she hadn’t ruined all of them. Nipples, formula, and she still needed laundry detergent. And if she didn’t sign those federal documents today the village might miss out on the funds for road repair.
Jane continued crying fiercely as Emily cooed and soothed, waltzing around the living room. She hoped the baby hadn’t breathed in too much of that awful smell in the kitchen. Could it have hurt her? Emily bit her lip. One little baby seemed to generate at least a hundred new worries.
The sound of the ringing phone penetrated her thoughts and Emily ran to answer it, shifting the crying baby to one hip, away from the receiver. It was hard to hear who was on the other end over the sound of Jane and the water still running in the kitchen.
“Yes? Who is it?” Emily called out over the noise.
“Emily? It’s me, Sara. Can you hear me?”
“Sara! Where are you?” Emily felt instant relief at the sound of her daughter’s voice.
“I’m on my cell, driving back to the village from a meeting in Peabody. I wondered if I could swing by and see the—”
“Come right over! That would be great. I’ll make you lunch. Listen, could you pick up a few things for me on the way? Dan took my car this morning and forgot to leave the car seat and I’m sort of stuck here.”
“No problem. What do you need?”
Emily gave Sara a quick list, talking over the crying baby. Simultaneously, she ran back into the kitchen and shut off the running water, but realized she’d now left the bottles to boil too long. She shut off the stove and pushed the pot back on another burner.
This baby business wasn’t as simple as it looked, not by a long shot. Thank goodness Sara was coming over. Her call felt like a gift from above.
“Thanks,” Emily said quietly, looking heavenward. “Looks like I need all the help I can get around here today.”
Sara arrived a short time later. By then Emily had managed to put Jane on the bed for a few minutes while she changed into real clothes, foregoing a shower. When the doorbell rang, she picked up the baby and ran through the house to answer it. She gently placed Jane on her play mat, then quickly passed through the living room, realizing the place was still a total mess. She had had no chance to pick up. She never entertained company this way but, as they say, a baby changes things.
Sara walked in holding the grocery bags and a gift box wrapped with pink paper and a big bow.
Emily hugged her and took the bags. “I’m so glad you called. I was having a rough morning. You really rescued me.”
“Good timing then. I’ve been dying to see the baby. Where is she?”
“Right over here on her play mat.” Emily led the way to Jane, who was set up on the floor surrounded by baby toys.
“Oh, she’s adorable!” Sara walked over and sat down on the floor beside the baby. “Hello, Jane!” Sara picked up a plush toy lamb and waved it in Jane’s direction. The baby gurgled and kicked her feet, grabbing at it. “Oh my, you’re so cute. Can I take you to work with me?”
“Would you? I mean, just for an hour or two?” Emily laughed at her desperate admission.
Sara looked up at her. “You don’t really mean that?”
“No, of course not. But this baby care hasn’t been as easy as I thought. It’s not the baby. It’s all the routines and equipment. I can’t believe we ran out of formula. I feel like such an airhead. But we used it up much quicker than I thought over the weekend. I just didn’t realize.”
Sara picked up the baby and held her in her lap. “It’s all new,” she reminded her mother. “You never did all this before.”
“No.” Emily’s voice was barely audible. “No, I didn’t.” She smoothed her hands over her jeans and stood up. “Want some lunch? I can heat up some soup and make you a sandwich.”
“Sounds good, but don’t go to any trouble.”
“No trouble. Why don’t you bring Jane into the kitchen?”
“Sure.” Sara got up with the baby and followed Emily. Though the kitchen looked like a war zone, Emily found a can of soup and a clean pot and started the soup. She took out a cutting board and bread for the sandwiches, but Jane started whimpering and squirming in Sara’s arms.
“Maybe she wants you,” Sara said, holding up the baby. “I can fix us lunch.”
Emily took Jane and gave her daughter a rueful, apologetic glance. “I didn’t invite you here so you could do my shopping and make me lunch, you know.”
Sara laughed. “I don’t mind helping out. It’s no big deal.”
Emily knew that logically it wasn’t. Still, it felt odd to be reversing roles with Sara like this. Sara didn’t seem to mind, yet Emily sensed a certain disquiet in her daughter’s demeanor. Did she feel displaced by the baby? It was possible. Emily thought she and Sara should talk about things, but this didn’t seem the right time.
“So what’s new with you and Luke? Did that old flame of his finally leave town?”
Sara rolled her eyes. “I don’t know and I don’t care. Well, I do care,” she admitted. “But everything is such a mess now with Luke and me. We all went out together on Saturday night and it was just awful.”
Emily felt alarmed at Sara’s tone. She could see Sara trying to speak reasonably but quickly melting down, her eyes on the verge of tears.
“Oh, honey . . .” Emily wanted to get up and give her a hug, then realized she had Jane in her lap, firmly attached to her bottle. “What happened, exactly?”
Sara nodded bleakly and wiped her eyes on a paper napkin. “It went all right at first and then that woman went too far. She was pushing my buttons all night, and I finally just lost it. I got up to take a break in the ladies’ room and I just kept going.”
“You walked out on them?” The baby squirmed and Emily lifted her up to her shoulder, patting her for a burp.
“I couldn’t help it. I was so mad, I didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t just Christina. She was just being her fabulous, condescending self. I was so mad at Luke for putting us together like that. I think he wanted to sit back and watch two women fight over him or something. It was really twisted.”
Jane began whimpering and wiggling on Emily’s shoulder. Emily tried to set her upright in her lap and pat her lower back, but the baby wasn’t having any of it.
“Don’t think the worst, Sara. Luke isn’t like that. Maybe he just didn’t realize.”
“He knew,” Sara insisted. She waited, watching Jane. Emily could tell she wanted to say more. She really needed to talk to someone about this but now felt short-circuited by the baby’s fussing.
Emily stood up and paced around the small kitchen with the baby, who was now whimpering fitfully. She couldn’t figure it out. Maybe Jane ate her food too quickly and had a gas bubble. The pediatric nurse said that could be painful. If only babies could talk and tell you what was going on. Meanwhile, she had a grown daughter sitting here who wanted to tell her what was wrong, and she could barely give her three minutes of attention. Emily suddenly felt stretched like a rubber band between Sara’s needs and those of the baby.