CHAPTER 9
C HAPTER 9
B y the end of the week, it seemed everyone knew her business. Marlow knew Cort hadn’t told anyone, and she doubted Pixie had either. But the good people of Bramble had spread the news among their ranks.
Once the sisters had met Pixie, they’d started putting things together. Herman had already corrected the assumption that Pixie was her sister, not that Marlow would have let that go on anyway. As she’d told Pixie, she wasn’t ashamed of her, and she didn’t want Pixie to be ashamed either.
People made mistakes. Good people did their best to correct them.
That was exactly what Pixie was doing, and Marlow wanted only to applaud her, not bring more strife to her life. Her shifts at the tavern sure were interesting, though.
“So have you and Pixie known each other long?” Butler asked.
Hard to believe this unimposing man was the mayor, but in Bramble, anything was possible. Butler wasn’t tall, but he did appear fit for a sixty-something guy with thick gray hair and an impressive mustache. “Actually no,” Marlow said, while picking up her empties on a sweep through the tavern. “But I knew of her, of course.” There, let him stew on that.
She went on to the next table, where Joann—the woman who ran the dairy bar—was enjoying burgers and fries with a friend.
“Hey, Marlow, I heard Pixie was a distant relative?”
“No.” Marlow smiled. “Can I get you anything else?” When they declined, she left the bill and said, “No hurry on that.”
At the last table, Robin, owner of The Docker restaurant, smiled at her. “Getting the third degree, huh?”
“Seems so.” She picked up Robin’s empty plate to add to her tray.
“They know already. They’re just hoping you’ll confirm it.”
Showing her annoyance, Marlow cocked a brow. “They know what exactly?”
“That Pixie needs help, and you’re wonderful.”
Damn it, now how could she be snide over a comment like that? Obviously, she couldn’t. “I do my best.”
Leaving the room in a hurry, she deliberately avoided eye contact with anyone else. It had been the same every night since the sisters had gotten involved. Poor Pixie wasn’t sure what to do. Bobbi and Gloria had brought her the pieces of a beautiful white wooden crib that they said they’d gotten from a friend.
Gloria had already scrubbed them from top to bottom, and Cort stopped by to put it together.
Seeing it, Pixie cried again, but she’d been laughing, too, her face rosy with excitement. She’d known so little kindness that every considerate gesture thrilled her.
All the crib needed was a mattress, so the next morning Marlow drove to town and bought the mattress along with several sheets and a few more baby blankets.
From one end or the other, Andy soiled a lot of blankets. Poor Pixie did at least one load of laundry a day. It was a good thing the tiny lake house had a stacked washer and dryer tucked into the utility closet.
Marlow’s gifts had leveled Pixie, who’d stroked each blanket as if they were made of cashmere or silk instead of cotton. She’d then claimed to be ready to work.
Marlow understood her a little better each day. Pixie felt indebted, and she wanted to begin repaying that debt as quickly as possible. “Soon,” Marlow had promised her, only because she knew she’d have felt the same way. No one liked feeling beholden to someone else. It robbed a person of their power.
After the gift of the crib, the troop of visitors to meet Pixie seemed endless. It frustrated Marlow, who wanted Pixie to rest, but it was also nice that everyone was taking an interest in her.
One person brought her a plant. Others, inspired by Gloria and Bobbi, brought her food. The pastor of the local church brought a stroller.
And now they all wanted a firsthand accounting of things.
In the tavern’s kitchen, Marlow set aside the heavy tray, then dropped back against the wall, unsure whether she should laugh or growl.
Herman stuck his head around the wall. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Depends on your perspective.”
He cautiously stepped in. “If it’s all that gossip about Pixie, well, was bound to happen.”
“You think so?”
He snorted. “After your in-laws were here causing a scene? You’re a focal point of interest, you know.”
It was almost amusing, given that she’d come here to escape her old life. “Where I lived before this, no one really cared about anyone else’s day-to-day life. We were all too busy.”
Inspired by that tidbit, Herman asked, “You lived in the city?”
“My home was actually in an exclusive suburb very near Chicago, where I worked.” As if absorbed, Herman leaned against the counter opposite her and gave her his full attention.
She’d never discussed her past with him, but now, as she fought the inevitable, she couldn’t recall why it mattered. Privacy be damned. These people weren’t really nosy, but they . . . cared. About everyone and everything.
How unique was that?
Here, apparently it wasn’t unique at all.
Just as she wanted to get pertinent information from Pixie because it would better enable her to lend assistance, these wonderful people also wanted to help.
She hoped to become a permanent fixture in Bramble, so maybe it was time she opened up a little. “Would you mind if I took a two-minute break?”
“Nah,” he said. “You look bushed. Grab a drink or something.” He started to walk away, but Marlow touched his arm, staying him. Herman had always been kind to her, and better still, he appreciated her. Really appreciated her. He recognized her work ethic and applauded her when she did her best.
That was better than a raise any day.
“Do you have a few minutes, too?”
His eyes went wide, but he nodded. “Sure, yeah, if that’s what you want.”
“I was just going to tell you a little about myself, and then if you’d like, you can share so everyone doesn’t feel the need to get the scoop from me.”
His brows came down. “I can tell them to back off if you want. Might not work with all of them, but some of them will listen.”
A reluctant grin tugged at her mouth. Herman spoke the truth. “No, it’s fine. I’ll just summarize and then get back to work.”
He settled against the counter again.
In the briefest terms possible, showing the least amount of emotion, Marlow ran through her reasons for deciding to move to Bramble. Dylan cheated, I was going to divorce him, but he died instead, his parents needed me, I stayed to help them, then knew I needed to move on . . . and I ended up here . As she spoke, the look on Herman’s face was almost comical. He wasn’t lacking emotion. Surprise, then outrage, replaced by sympathy, then anger again: the poor guy went through the gamut of reactions.
Marlow liked how it all just came together, as if she’d recited the plot to a movie that she’d found only marginally engaging. Saying it aloud like that as mere details rather than pivotal points in her life, showed her how far she’d come, and how quickly.
To wrap up the story, she explained about Pixie, again omitting details that were too personal, but really, there’d be no hiding the truth, not if she stayed here—and she hadn’t changed her mind about that.
“That poor child,” Herman said, his brows gathering with concern.
“She’s a mother, Herman, not a child.” That reminder made Marlow a hypocrite, because she often referred to Pixie as a girl, not a woman.
“To someone my age, she’s a child.” Still scowling, he ran his fingers through his hair, glanced at Marlow, and suddenly smiled. “Good thing she came to you, right?”
Taken aback by that sentiment, Marlow asked, “You think so?”
“Don’t be modest. Doesn’t suit you.” He gave her shoulder a fatherly pat. “You impressed me from day one. Knew right away you were special. This proves it.”
In a whisper, she admitted, “I feel special.” Was she special enough to get to stay in Bramble? “Who knew I’d ever be in this position, as a waitress at a charming tavern, in a small town named Bramble?” With my deceased husband’s girlfriend and infant needing my help . “Not me. A year ago, I would have considered it farfetched. But now I’m enjoying every minute.” She liked this adaptable version of herself a whole lot more than the business shark version. Or the obtuse wife version.
Or the hollow, heartbroken, wounded version.
“It’s nice that everyone is taking an interest in Pixie, but—”
Herman shared another inelegant but accurate snort.
“She’s been ill, Herman,” Marlow continued quietly. “She needs to rest, so do you think, now that I’ve told the story—or rather, you’ll do it for me—we could get everyone to limit their visits to certain days and times so Pixie isn’t fatigued?”
Like the perfect co-conspirator, Herman said, “You figure out the best schedule, and I’ll make sure everyone knows. Anyone who oversteps will get a stern reminder from me.”
“You’re the best, Herman.” Her hug took him by surprise, but sooner or later he’d get used to her embraces— if she got to stick around.
* * *
A week later, as Pixie put Andy down for bed, she walked through the quiet lake house with a smile. She’d had a productive day with the laundry all done and put away, the floors cleaned, every surface dusted, and her dinner dishes washed and in the rack. She could dry them and put them in the cabinet—or she could take a few minutes just to enjoy the beautiful location where she’d landed.
Amazement took her breath away every time she thought of her good fortune. In the matter of a few days, she’d gone from destitute and utterly alone to settled in a beautiful house on a scenic lake with new friends who honestly seemed to care about her and Andy.
Sometimes she feared she was in a dream, and she’d wake up to an ugly reality where Andy had no more diapers and she had nothing to eat. She’d worry about next week, next month, and the coming year.
She had a lifetime of caring for her son ahead, and no clear plan of how to do that. The generosity could only last so long.
And yet, this wonderful daydream continued, with townspeople who dropped in with gifts and a landlord who took care of the lawn and often asked her if she needed anything.
Best of all was Marlow. That once-feared woman had a heart of gold beneath her exterior of elegant strength. She was savior, teacher, and inspiration all wrapped up in take-charge attitude and unbelievable forgiveness.
Walking to the back door, Pixie noted the flicker of fireflies as they drifted over the dock and lake. The scene was so beautiful it took her breath away.
Rather than turn on the porch light, as she usually did at night, she slid the door open without making a sound, stepped out to the small stoop, and sat down. Rarely did she take the time to simply breathe deeply and relax. A week ago, if she’d tried, she probably would have fallen asleep, she’d been so worn out.
However, each day had brought more recovery, and she now felt like her old self again. Physically, at least. Well, except for the fuller bust and loss of her narrow waistline. Pretty sure her hips were permanently wider now, too. She smiled, knowing Andy had done that to her body.
Intellectually, she thought she was smarter now, a little wiser in the way of the world. More cynical, too, because she had firsthand knowledge of how deceptive some people could be. Never again would she let a man strip her of her pride and reduce her to a beggar in need of help. Her experience had been harsh, but lessons were learned.
Emotionally, she was now a mother, and she had so much love for Andy it sometimes surprised her that her heart didn’t burst. How did mothers of multiple kids manage? Could a heart carry that much love? Apparently so.
Pleased with her progress on all levels, she inhaled the humid air and took pleasure in watching the fireflies. Out on the lake, a fish jumped with a splash, fanning out the reflection of moonlight on the surface in ever expanding ripples.
She was enjoying it all, her thoughts at peace, until the crack of a twig put her on alert. Heart pounding, she slowly turned her head . . . and saw a shadow that didn’t belong. A man-sized shadow, coming around the corner of the house.
Panic dug into her, freezing her for a moment, until her thoughts naturally shot to Andy. As silently as possible, she scrambled to her feet, eased into the house, and secured the door.
Her heart pounded so hard that it stole her breath away. Eyes wide with alarm, she flattened herself to the wall beside the door and peeked out through the window. The shadow went still for a few moments, then moved closer until the clear outline of a man was visible.
It was not Cort. It wasn’t anyone familiar to her. As she stared, horrified, the body came closer—as if to look in her windows!
Ungluing her feet, she ducked away and dashed into the bedroom, where Andy slept peacefully. There on the single nightstand was her phone, on but silenced. To her, it was a lifeline.
God, how she hated to be a nuisance, but more than that, more than anything, she had to protect Andy.
She shot over to the bed and grabbed the phone, rapidly texting into it, then praying for a reply. Breath still strangled in her throat, her chest aching with terror . . . until the reply popped onto the screen.
On my way.
* * *
Comfortably settled on the couch with Cort, Marlow yawned and knew she’d never be able to finish the movie. Any second now, she’d doze off.
Cort, always so attuned to her, kissed her temple. “Fading out?”
“Afraid so. I’m sorry.”
He lifted the remote and switched off the TV. “Trust your body when it tells you what you need.”
“What if it tells me I need you?”
The question didn’t make him uneasy. In fact, he smiled. “Trust it.”
She smiled, too. “You’re so easy.”
“With you.” He smoothed a hand over her hair, his fingers stroking through to her scalp where he began a relaxing massage. “Want to stay over, or should I take you home?”
Home. She really wished she could call Bramble home—for good. More and more each day, she loved the place, both the location and the people. “You don’t mind if I stay?”
“I’d prefer it.” He nudged her face up. “But you’ve had a busy week.”
True. Not only busy working at the tavern and searching for a suitable building for her business but also rearranging town habits to suit her. Her ploy with Herman had worked, and somehow—miracle of miracles—she’d gotten a lot of people on the schedule that best fit Pixie and, by extension, Marlow.
“I’ll understand if you’d rather go home to your own bed.”
And be denied a night in his bed? “What I’d really like is—”
Just then, a text sounded on her phone. She frowned, then sat forward, their conversation interrupted as she left the cozy warmth of Cort’s arms to reach her phone on the coffee table. What she read shot her to her feet.
Alerted to trouble, Cort stood, too. “What is it?”
Quickly, she texted Pixie back. On my way. On autopilot, she shoved the phone into her pocket. “I have to go. Someone is lurking around outside Pixie’s house.”
Snagging her before she could rush off, he grabbed his keys without asking a single question and said, “Of course, I’m going with you.”
Marlow let out a giant breath. “Of course.” If she’d been thinking, she’d have known he would, but instead she’d simply reacted.
Willingly, she stayed behind Cort as he led the way out to his truck, his gaze scouring the surroundings, although it was too dark for Marlow to see much beyond the reach of his outside lights. He clicked the key fob and unlocked his truck before they reached it.
When he hoisted her inside, she was in too much of a hurry to complain. They needed to reach Pixie.
No one was ever on this road in the evening except her, Cort, or Pixie, because there were no other houses. The fronts of the homes faced the road. Behind, the properties went down to the lake.
She supposed someone might confuse directions and drive down the road looking for an address, but Pixie’s word choice—lurking—suggested that the person was on foot.
Cort backed out of his driveway, and when his headlights hit the road ahead, they both searched the landscape. Other than a few deer, and a possum scurrying across the road, she didn’t see any people or cars.
She texted Pixie, We’re pulling in now , and got an immediate thumbs up in return, meaning Pixie had the phone in her hand. The second Cort turned off the truck, she reached for the door handle, but Cort again stopped her. “Let me check first?”
Okay, that sounded ominous, as if he thought there might be trouble. Numb with worry, she nodded. He opened his door and stepped out—and they both heard the loud sound of running feet on the road, followed seconds later by the closing of a car door. Farther down the road, near the cottage where Marlow lived, red taillights shone for a brief moment. The sight of them sent her heart into her throat. Then the car spat gravel as it raced away, turning up the road that would lead past the tavern and out of town.
Still searching the area, Cort put his own phone to his ear. “Herman, I need you to do me a favor. In a few minutes a car is going to drive past the tavern. I need you to see if you can spot it. No, no idea. It’s a car, not a truck, but all I saw were the taillights.” He listened, then said, “It was hanging around outside Marlow’s place, and Pixie thinks she saw someone on foot by the lake house. Yeah, be careful, don’t approach anyone, and don’t say anything to anyone else.” He nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
Her phone dinged with an incoming message, causing her to jump. She read it, then said to Cort, “Pixie sees us. Should she open the front door?”
“Yeah.” He closed his door and walked around to Marlow’s side.
She was now jumpy, but also in a rush to get to Pixie. Cort kept her close, his attention everywhere until they reached the overhang of the front door. It opened, and he urged Marlow inside.
She took one look at Pixie’s frightened face and gathered her close. “It’s okay now,” she promised.
“Lock the door and stay inside,” Cort said. “I’ll have a look around.”
There was only time for her eyes to flare wide before Pixie followed his instruction. She grabbed Marlow’s hand and hauled her into the kitchen.
In a faint whisper, Pixie said, “I’m so sorry to be more of a bother, but I swear, seeing someone out in the dark scared me half to death. No one is ever around here, and if it was you or Cort, I knew you’d have texted first.”
“Yes, we always will, or we’d at least announce ourselves, not sneak around in the shadows. You were right to worry.” She strode to the window in the door to look out and saw nothing. “Why isn’t your porch light on?”
Pixie paced across the floor. “I had my chores done, and Andy was asleep, and I saw the fireflies . . .”
“I understand. This is my summer for fireflies, too.” Seeing that Pixie was frazzled, Marlow pulled out a chair at the two-seater table and urged her to sit. “Slow down and take a breath. It’s okay now.”
Pixie nodded, but the second her bottom landed on the chair, she started rambling. “I just wanted to sit outside for a minute. When the light is on, it draws mosquitoes and beetles and moths. I sat down on the stoop—”
Because Marlow hadn’t yet gotten her that rocking chair, darn it.
“—and the moon on the water was so pretty, and there were fireflies everywhere. But then I saw the shadow, and I could tell it was a man, and I almost died of fright.” She shoved her hair back as if it offended her, her movements frustrated and full of self-recrimination. “When I got inside, I was afraid that if I turned on the porch light, whoever was out there would know I’d spotted them.” She rubbed her forehead as if it pained her. “I should have contacted the police. Or grabbed Andy and run for my car.”
“No,” Marlow said. The last thing she wanted was for Pixie to possibly expose herself to danger. “Staying inside with the door locked was the smartest move.”
Defeated, Pixie shook her head. “I don’t even have emergency numbers. I never thought that far ahead. I never think ahead. I just keep screwing up.” She looked at Marlow, full of apology. “All I could think to do was get hold of you.”
What a revelation, but of course she was Pixie’s lifeline. In fact, for now, she preferred it that way. Marlow wanted to sit, too, but more than that, she wanted Cort to get his sexy butt inside so she could stop worrying about him. “You did the right thing.” She had more to say, but she needed to think about it first. After all, she wanted to encourage Pixie to be independent. As a mother, she should think ahead, so she could protect herself and Andy. They’d work on that, though.
Sighing, Marlow figured it was one more thing to add to her to-do list where Pixie was concerned.
Again, when her phone dinged, she jumped, then issued a curse. She looked at the screen and was glad to see the message. “It’s Cort. I’ll let him in. You sit—”
“No way,” Pixie said, already crowding in near her side. “I go where you go.”
For now, that suited Marlow just fine. She led the way back to the front door, then peeked out to be sure it was Cort before she unlocked the door. As he stepped in, she asked, “Was that necessary?”
“The door was locked.”
“I don’t mean . . .” She huffed. “Why go out there and prowl around anyway? What if you’d found someone still hanging about?”
His reply was a kiss to her forehead and an arm around Pixie’s shoulders. By silent agreement, the three of them convened back in the kitchen. He pulled out a chair for each of them, then leaned against the wall near Marlow’s shoulder. “No one is hanging around now, but Marlow and I saw someone taking off when we got here. They’d parked up by her place.”
Pleased that Cort referred to it as her place, she wondered if he wanted her to stay. It seemed possible. Even on a disturbing night like this, she’d count that as progress.
Pixie’s alarm visibly grew, which prompted Marlow to cover her hand. “We’re all fine. For all we know, it might have been someone hoping to fish off the docks and not realizing that the homes were in use right now.” That theory sounded believable, and hopefully Pixie would buy into it. All this anxiety couldn’t be good for her blood pressure. Hmm, perhaps that was something they should ask her doctor at her next appointment. It was helpful that Pixie now included her in the discussions after her exams.
When Pixie’s shoulders loosened, Marlow knew she was considering her theory.
“You have flood lights,” Cort said. “Fishermen use them when they finish night fishing, to make sure they’re not leaving any expensive rods or equipment behind. From now on, I want you to turn them on at night.”
“But the electric bill . . .”
“You’ll turn them on,” he reiterated, politely putting an end to her objection. “Tomorrow I’ll pick up flood lights for the front, too.” His gaze pinned Marlow. “For both of you.”
To encourage Pixie, Marlow said, “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Of course, she would also reimburse him, but Pixie didn’t need to know that.
She didn’t hear his phone, but when Cort lifted it to his ear, she knew he’d gotten a call. To Pixie, she whispered, “That’s probably Herman.”
Confused, Pixie asked, “How do you know?”
Instead of answering, she listened to Cort.
“Did you see anything?” His brows came together. “Interesting. Yeah, it’s probably related.” He listened again, then nodded. “Keep it to yourself, Herman, okay? Right. It’s great that I can trust you, but you know how everyone else gossips.”
Oh, Marlow thought that was a genius ploy to stroke Herman’s ego. When she spotted one of Cort’s brief smiles, she knew Herman was eating it up.
“I’ll tell her, and thank you.” After he returned the phone to his pocket, he said, “Herman wants you to call him if you need anything.”
What a wonderful offer. “He’s the absolute sweetest, isn’t he?”
Dubious, Cort replied, “Sure, if you say so.”
When he said nothing else, she asked, “Well? What did he see?”
His gaze cut to Pixie, and she had the thought that he might not want to talk in front of her. She understood his reasoning, but they’d each been remiss in thinking of Pixie as a child to be protected. She needed to be aware of any threat.
“Go on,” she said. “I think Pixie should be kept in the loop since the intruder was closest to her home.”
Cort stared at Marlow a few seconds longer, then nodded. “A Mercedes Maybach tore out of town. Herman said it was the slickest SUV he’s ever seen, and the driver ran a stop sign.”
As that information sank in, Marlow murmured, “Hopefully, he didn’t encounter any deer.”
Pixie asked, “What’s a Maybach?”
Sending her one of those bare-minimum smiles, Cort explained, “A fancy car that probably costs over a hundred fifty grand.”
Stomach sinking, Marlow said, “So in other words, probably someone sent by my in-laws.”
Going white, Pixie whispered, “Did you tell them about Andy?”
“No. I told you I wouldn’t, remember?” It was a friendly reprimand, but still Pixie blanched.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You’re worried. I understand. But I will never lie to you.”
Breathing shakily, Pixie nodded.
“I haven’t even spoken with them lately. A few days ago, Sandra left me a message and said she’d like to talk, but I was at work, and since then I’ve been . . . busy.” Busy looking at property, caring for Pixie, and especially spending time with Cort. Overall, she’d been busy avoiding her in-laws—and living her new, happy life.
She’d feel guilty for that, except that nothing positive ever came of their chats, and they often left Marlow annoyed. Now, she had to admit that avoidance might not have been the best approach. “I’ll call Sandra tomorrow to find out if they’re behind this.”
Cort crossed his arms. “If it is them, they might not know anything about Pixie. It’s more likely they came to check up on you, except your house was dark because you were with me, and Pixie’s kitchen light was on.”
“So the person they sent was drawn here.” Not for a second did she think Sandra or Aston had personally come to snoop. No, a task like that would be hired out. “Well, if they were behind this snooping, I’ll put a stop to it.”
“How?” Cort asked. “If your in-laws were nosy enough to have someone creeping around in the dark, it’s unlikely they’ll just confess to doing it when confronted.”
Very true. Aware of Pixie fidgeting, Marlow asked, “Something to add?”
“No.”
Her denial was so adamant, Marlow had to press her. “Pixie?”
“What if they show up here?” She flung her hand toward the front door. “What if they knock?”
The worry she saw in Pixie’s eyes superseded everything else. “I’ll find out what they want, and what their intentions are.”
Cort stepped forward. “It might be better to take the surprise out of the equation. If you don’t mind a suggestion?”
Pixie stared up at him as if he had all the answers. “I don’t know what to do, so I’m happy to hear it.”
“Tell the grandparents about Andy—on your terms, and in your own way.”
Pixie pressed back in her chair. “No, I don’t want—”
He knelt in front of her. “You would arrange it.”
“And I’d be with you,” Marlow promised.
“I’m happy to be there too, if you don’t mind.” Cort waited a beat to let those words sink in, then asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to just face their reaction, instead of watching every shadow and worrying when they might find out?”
“I . . .” She looked at each of them, then cleared her throat. “Could I think about it?”
“Of course you can. The decision is yours.” Cort stood again. “You won’t open the doors anymore tonight, right?”
“No.” Sitting a little straighter, she said, “I really am sorry for bothering you both.” To Marlow, she added, “I didn’t realize you were together. I hate that I interrupted.”
“I’m glad you texted me. Always feel free to do that, okay? The only problem would be if you didn’t.”
“It is a problem, though,” she insisted. “I should be learning to stand on my own two feet, and at the first little thing, I panicked.”
“It’s not a little thing to know someone is walking around in the dark when you and Andy are here alone. You were protecting him, as any mother would do. Under those circumstances, don’t you think I would do the same?”
“No,” Pixie said simply. “I can’t imagine you calling someone for help.”
What a way to squeeze her heart. Marlow didn’t know if she should be flattered by Pixie’s faith in her, or if she should laugh over the idea that she’d confront an intruder alone. “Well, I’d have called Cort.”
“Damn right she would.”
Marlow flashed him a smile. “But,” she said, “I think it’d be a good idea for you to have emergency numbers, too. I have no idea what type of law enforcement Bramble has, but I assume Cort does. We should both know the number, and the number for a medical emergency, as well.”
Just then, Andy let out a short cry. Pixie jumped to her feet, but Marlow said, “I’ll get him. I can change his diaper while Cort gives you those numbers.” She hurried off before Pixie could object. It’d give her a few moments more to calm down before she held the baby.
It couldn’t possibly affect Marlow as strongly as it did Pixie, but the baby’s fussing made her hurry her steps. The bedroom was now crowded with the crib set up, so she had to maneuver around the furniture before she could look down at Andy’s scrunched face, ready to give another shout.
“Hello, sweetheart.”
He went still and then stared up at her. His legs kicked a few times, and his fist found its way into his mouth for a couple of slurpy sucks.
“I guess you’re hungry, huh? You’ll need your mama for that, but how about I give you a clean diaper?” He appeared to be listening, so while she located the diaper and wipes, she continued to speak to him. “You won’t sprinkle me, will you? I saw you do that to your mama, you know. We laughed and laughed.” It was a wonderful memory to share with her new friend.
Andy grinned at her.
“Oh!” He looked so precious, Marlow glanced around, anxious for someone else to see, but of course she and the baby were alone. “You little stinker.”
He grinned again, then rapidly pumped his legs.
“You really are the most adorable little guy.” Remembering the process Pixie had used, Marlow put the diaper and wipes on the bed, then opened the changing pad. Carefully, she lifted out the baby.
He grabbed a big hank of her hair. “Ouch. That’s not a good idea, Andy. You don’t want . . .” When he yanked, she winced. “Okay, let’s figure this out.” She lowered him to the pad, bending with him, and then painstakingly freed her hair, making certain no strands remained in his damp fist, all the while chatting to him.
He cooed, giving her the oddest feeling, as if a sweet warmth had just invaded her chest. “You’re a little heartbreaker, aren’t you?” She was getting better at changing him, and after witnessing the shower Pixie had gotten, she took no chances. “You smell so nice when you’re only wet. You have your own special baby scent. There,” she said once she had him clean and dry. “Let’s get you all snapped back up, okay? If I know your mama, and I think I do, she’s anxious to hold you.” Putting a baby blanket over her shoulder, Marlow cuddled Andy to her, her hold secure, and turned to leave the room.
She found Pixie and Cort standing there, both of them smiling.
Not that she minded. She was fairly proud of herself for getting all that done without a hitch. “He grinned at me. A big toothless grin.”
As if to prove it, Andy wiggled and did it again.
Cort said, “He’s probably gassy.”
Gasping in mock affront, Marlow said, “I’ll have you know that he likes me.”
“Of course he does,” Pixie assured her. “What’s not to like?”
Marlow was just about to thank her when Andy proved Cort right.
After such a tense day, they all found that hilariously funny.
“Here you go.” Marlow handed over the baby. “You may need to check that diaper one more time.”
Pixie took Andy, then gave Marlow a quick, one-armed hug. “Seriously, thank you for coming to my rescue—again. I don’t mean to lean on you so much, but it means the world to me to have someone. Especially someone as awesome as you.”
Well, damn. Much more of that and she’d be tearing up. “I’m glad you’re here, Pixie. You and Andy both.” Mother and son added new depth and emotion to her life during a time when she’d needed it. Instead of exacerbating her hurt feelings, Pixie had helped to heal them. Someday soon, Marlow would explain that to her. For now, they all needed some rest.
Together, they walked to the front door.
Before they stepped out, Marlow asked her, “Will you be okay here alone?”
“I’ll be fine. I feel much better now. I promised Cort that I’d keep the doors locked, and he made sure that all the numbers I might need are in my phone.”
“All right, but if anything happens, or if you just need to talk, feel free to call me.” She looked down at Andy. “And you, you rascal. Get your fill, and then let your mama sleep, you hear?”
He grinned at her once more.
“I’m not falling for that again.” Marlow laughed, then pressed a kiss to his downy head. He really did have the best smell, making her want to nuzzle his soft cheek. She refrained, gave Pixie a smile, and stepped out with Cort.
They immediately heard the lock click into place.
At his truck, Cort paused to tip up her chin. “I know you’re tired, but would you mind staying with me, or I could stay with you?”
“You’re worried about me?”
“No. I feel certain that whoever was here, they’re gone now and not likely to return tonight. But I’d still like to hold you.” He kissed her forehead. “And sleep with you near.” The next kiss was pressed to the bridge of her nose. “And wake up with you in the morning.”
That sounded perfect to her. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s go to my place, though. We’ll be closer to Pixie if anything happens.” And tomorrow, she’d get hold of Sandra.
Now more than ever, she dreaded the upcoming conversation with her mother-in-law.