Chapter Nine
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Sally’s eyes studied Skye.
“Of course not. I love Anne Marie,” Skye quickly assured her, doing her best to conceal a smile of pure delight at having
the baby for the evening.
“We shouldn’t be late, and she’ll probably sleep the whole time.” Carefully Sally placed the sleeping infant inside the playpen
that was serving as a substitute crib.
“It’s fine, Sally, don’t worry. Even if she does wake, I won’t mind. I don’t see enough of Anne Marie as it is.” Her warm
blue eyes shifted from the slumbering babe to Sally.
“Jordan’s not coming, is he?” Again Sally voiced her concern.
“No, but he’ll probably phone. He does every night. You and Andy go and have a good time. Be sure and tell Andy I expect him
to get this promotion.”
“The phone number of the restaurant is in the diaper bag. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need to.”
“Yes, little mother.” Skye mockingly rolled her eyes and eased Sally toward the front door.
“If she does wake, just warm her bottle and feed her. She’ll go right back to sleep.”
“Yes, Sally! You’ve already gone over everything at least twice.” Opening the door, Skye ushered her into the hall. “I have
your phone number, the doctor’s phone number, the fire department’s phone number, and on the off chance I spot a UFO, I have
a phone number for them, too.” The corners of her mouth turned upward in a teasing motion.
Sally giggled instantly. “I guess I am making a bit of a fuss. I really appreciate your taking over at the last minute like
this. I don’t know what we would have done.”
“Nonsense,” Skye said, dismissing the gratitude. “Didn’t you say Andy was waiting in the car? Now scat.” She grinned and shooed
her friend away.
“All right, I’m out of here. We do appreciate it, Skye, more than words can say.”
“Have a good time, and don’t worry about Anne Marie.”
“We won’t,” Sally promised.
Locking the door behind her, Skye tiptoed to the sleeping baby. Brown wisps of naturally curly hair framed angelic features.
Sighing contentedly, Skye gently tugged the blankets around Anne Marie.
The two weeks had passed slowly. Jordan had been busy and unable to visit. Their only communication had been the daily phone
calls, and these were often short, leaving them both frustrated.
Skye hadn’t even been able to ask Jordan about a ring, and she wasn’t sure how to broach the subject. There seemed to be so
much to say and so little time to discuss the things that mattered.
She hadn’t mentioned Jordan’s marriage proposal to her family. She’d rather they did it together, not that it was going to
be any big surprise. Skye could no more hide her love for Jordan now than Peggy could disguise her pregnancy.
She curled up on the sofa reading. It was quiet, peacefully so, especially since John Dirkson had moved.
Yet her mind raced with a thousand anxieties.
Dr. Snell had been to the hospital to examine Billy, and the surgery looked promising.
But the strain of the unknown, the intense desire to do everything possible to help Billy and his mother, brought a worried frown to her forehead.
Betty Fisher had been edgy under the strain of the uncertainty, relying more and more on Skye for support and comfort.
These were the things Skye wanted to share with Jordan.
She needed to express her own doubts and fears.
She prayed continually for Billy and the success of the surgery, but her own burning desire to have Billy free from paralysis blocked her will from submission.
She recalled the last painful days of her father’s life and the desperate desire for his healing.
He was healed, of course, but not in the way Skye had hoped.
It was little comfort to a grieving daughter to realize her father was free from pain and cancer in heaven.
Thoughts of her father brought to mind something he had told her years before. With a burst of energy she crafted a bright,
colorful sign that read:
Worry
serves no useful purpose
is of no value
and doesn’t change a thing.
With a revived sense of serenity she taped the sign to her refrigerator door, knowing she would see it often and be reminded
of her father’s wisdom.
Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Skye placed the kettle on the stove to boil.
She’d just finished adding the tea bag to the boiling water when Anne Marie woke.
She was startled by the strange surroundings and the unfamiliar face and gave a loud cry of alarm.
Gently cooing reassurances, Skye lifted the babe from the playpen and placed her over her shoulder.
Patting her back, Skye hoped to urge her to sleep.
While pacing the floor, Skye happened to glance out her window and observed a black car pull alongside the curb.
Smoothly Jordan swung open the door and glanced toward her window, catching her eye.
A warm tingle of excitement raced through Skye, and she waved, her whole face brightening. Jordan hadn’t figured on another
visit until the end of the week, but nothing he did surprised her anymore. His job at the radio station, although he rarely
spoke of it, was demanding and time consuming. She had learned their time together must revolve around his schedule.
Noticing the baby in Skye’s arms, Jordan cast her a skeptical glance. Skye watched as his expression changed from puzzlement
to one of amusement. The lines at the corners of his eyes broke into smiling crow’s-feet as he moved from her sight and into
the building.
Skye was waiting for him with the door open, her smile one of welcome and pleasure.
“You surprised me . . . It’s good to see you.” That was a gross understatement. Her heart beat urgently, anticipating his
firm kiss. She wasn’t disappointed. He closed the door with his foot and claimed possession of her mouth. Even with the baby
in her arms, her pliant body bent toward him, yielding to his kiss.
“That alone was worth the hassle of getting to you tonight,” he said, his voice low and disturbed.
Dazed and happy, Skye blinked her liquid blue eyes. She was forced to draw her attention back to the baby, who began to fuss
in earnest.
“Anne Marie Avery, daughter of Sally Avery.” She laid the crying baby on her arm for Jordan’s inspection. “I would like to
introduce you to the man I love, Jordan Kiley.”
Anne Marie cried furiously, her reddened face twisting angrily while tears rolled from her squinted eyes.
“She doesn’t seem to be impressed.” Jordan shrugged, studying her.
“Give her time,” Skye teased. “She hasn’t woken up enough to appreciate your obvious male charm.”
Anne Marie screamed at fever pitch and kicked with all the strength of her eight-month-old limbs, fighting Skye’s attempts
to change her diaper.
“What’s wrong with her?” Out of his element, concern laced Jordan’s voice.
“Nothing a dry diaper and warm bottle won’t cure,” she assured him, bringing a bottle from the supplies Sally had left. “Here,
warm this; there’s hot water in the kitchen. Just set the bottle in a bowl and surround it with the water.”
In her dry diaper, Anne Marie’s cries were no less frenzied. Jordan returned looking slightly unnerved. The room went from
blustering cries to restful silence as soon as the bottle was placed in the baby’s mouth.
Jordan sighed in relief and relaxed his lengthy frame in the chair.
“You look like you could use a cup of coffee,” Skye said, watching Anne Marie greedily suck at the bottle. When she glanced
up a few seconds later, she found Jordan’s gaze lingering on her. His eyes were narrowed, expressing uncertainty, perhaps
hesitation.
“Jordan, is something wrong?” she asked in a whisper.
His eyes cleared immediately. “No, I was just watching Anne Marie and seeing how very right you look with a baby in your arms.”
His look was tender. “We’ll have beautiful children.”
Their children . . . their child. A lump of wonder and joy blocked her throat.
The deep womanly desire to bear children was one she had ignored for eight years; now it surfaced, and the longing to hold her own child swelled within her.
Jordan was right; their children would be beautiful.
God willing they would be dark, like Jordan, but their eyes a striking contrast of deep blue.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.
“I have one. It’s sitting on the countertop in the kitchen, but it’s probably lukewarm by now.”
The time he was gone gave Skye a chance to gather her thoughts. Children were something they had barely discussed, and there
were so many other things they needed to know about each other. Perhaps Jordan would prefer to wait a few years before starting
a family. It was another question to add to the long list.
Anne Marie finished the bottle; her eyes closed, and she fell more than half asleep. When Skye gently withdrew the nipple
from her lips, her tiny mouth continued the sucking action. She placed the baby over her shoulder and urged her to burp by
rubbing her arched back in gentle, circular movements. The release came, and Skye placed her inside the playpen, covering
her with one of the blankets.
Jordan returned with their steaming drinks.
“She’s asleep,” Skye whispered, accepting the cup he handed her.
By silent agreement, they sat together on the sofa.
“Have you missed me?” Jordan asked with a coaxing smile.
She studied the steaming cup of tea. “You know I have,” she admitted freely. When he placed his arm around her shoulder she
snuggled closer to his side. A contented happiness stole over her as his body pressed close to hers.
“Then I won’t mind admitting how frustrated I’ve been these past two weeks.” The words were issued in mild exasperation.
Shifting her position slightly, she slid her arms around his middle and rested her head on the firm hardness of his shoulder.
The gentle caress of his hand against her hair was comforting and at the same time arousing.