Erica Spindler - Cause for Alarm

What would it be like to have that kind of confidence? she wondered. To have that much courage?

The woman and her children served, Kate motioned to her managers. "If I can trust you two to keep your conversation respectable, I'll be in my office working on payroll." Kate looked from one to the other. "That is, if you want to get paid today?"

"Go…go." Blake waved her toward the back. "I'm broke."

Marilyn clucked her tongue. "You need to manage your finances better. There will be a tomorrow, you know."

He sniffed. "Words of wisdom from the queen of the college loans."

"Screw you."

"Sorry, darlin'," he drawled, "but you're not my type."

"You don't have to worry about me keeping it respectable, Kate," Marilyn said, looking pointedly at Blake. " I have the ability to think about other things."

Kate threw up her hands. "You two will never change.

I'm going to stop trying, just don't scare all the customers away. Okay?"

Not waiting for a response, Kate made her way to her office, checking supplies as she did, making notes of what she needed to order. The time cards were stacked neatly on her desk, waiting for her. With a sigh, she took a seat and got to work.

She had only been at it a few minutes when Blake tapped on her open door. "We have a problem."

She looked up and motioned him in. "What's up?"

"It's the baker. Again. He didn't show Saturday. Consequently, we were out of half our pastries before the after-movie crowd even arrived."

"Did you call?"

"Of course." Blake frowned. "I got the machine. Twice."

"And he still hasn't called back." She made a sound of disgust. "How many times does this make?"

"Four. The jerk." Blake lifted the heart-shaped paperweight from her desk, weighed it in his hand and set it back down. The Baccarat crystal heart had been a gift from Richard last Valentine's Day. "I really hate irresponsibility."

Kate smiled. That's what made him such a good employee. "I'll take care of this, Blake. There are other bakers in town, and we're going to find ourselves one."

"Thank God." He wagged his finger at her. "And this time you're not going to listen to any sob stories, right? It doesn't matter if his dog died or his wife left him, he has a commitment to us and our business. You're much too nice, you know."

A notorious soft touch, that was what Richard called her. Con men and door-to-door salesmen could see her coming. She smiled. "No hard luck stories, no excuses. That Pillsbury Dough Boy is history."

That brought a smile to his lips. "Good. Thank you."

Blake started out of the office. Kate stopped him. "How was business this weekend?"

"Excellent. Though it would have been even better if we'd had a full stock of desserts."

"How did the new kid do?"

"Beanie?" Beanie, so nicknamed because he wore a different hat every day, was the newest member of her crew. And the youngest. She had hired him because she thought he would do a good job and because she feared she might be his only chance at gainful employment. "He did okay. I had Tess stay right with him. Consequently, he made no major goof-ups that I saw and the customers seemed to like him. Not bad for his first shift."

Tess, Kate's other employee, though a good worker, tended to be a bit of a flake. Kate arched an eyebrow. "Tess? Training?"

Marilyn popped her head into the office. "Kate, telephone. It's Ellen. From Citywide."

Kate nodded, catching her breath. "Thanks." She picked up the phone. From the corner of her eye, she saw Marilyn nudge Blake. The two eased out of the office, closing the door behind them.

Kate smiled. All her employees and most of the regulars knew she and Richard were adopting. They also knew what she had been through and how badly she wanted a child.

"Hi, Ellen," she said. "What's up?"

"Good news."

"Good news?" Kate repeated, her heart beginning to pound.

"We've got a new birth mother in the program. She's beginning to review profiles. Yours is one of the ones I've selected for her. But before you get too excited," she added quickly, "you and Richard are only one of several couples she's initially considering. Although I see you as a good fit, she might not. Be prepared, before this is all over, I'll probably be showing your profiles to a dozen birth mothers."

"Oh." Kate took a deep breath, so disappointed she hurt. "I understand."

Ellen laughed, but with sympathy, not amusement. "No, Kate, I understand. You have every right to be excited. But I feel obligated to warn you, adoption can be every bit the emotional roller coaster of infertility treatments. You have to pace yourself.

"I know it's hard," Ellen continued before Kate could respond. "The waiting is hell and the ups and downs are worse. Knowing that, the best you can do is strap in for the duration."

"Pace myself." Kate laughed, a bit self-consciously. "You sound like Richard. Relax, he says. All things in their time."

"He's a wise man."

"I know, it's just that…that-" To her embarrassment, tears flooded her eyes and when she spoke, her words came out soft and broken. "We've waited so long, Ellen. I've…we've wanted a child for such a long time." Her voice cracked, and she cleared it. "I'm sorry. You must think me a complete dope."

"Far from it," the other woman murmured. "I think anyone who wants a child as much as you do is going to be a very good mother."

Kate regained a modicum of composure, grateful for the woman's understanding. "Thank you."

"I'll tell you this, Kate, from speaking with this birth mother several times now, I believe she's committed to adoption. I sense no conflict in her over whether to parent or give up her baby. And," Ellen added, "she is interested in you and Richard. You have many qualities that are important to her. With that in mind, I was wondering when you could get your photo album to me."

"I finished it last night and planned to run it over in the next few days."

"The sooner the better."

"I'm bringing it now. See you in forty-five minutes."

Julianna sat on her bed, back propped by pillows, legs stretched out in front of her, the Citywide profiles stacked on what was left of her lap. She gazed at the typewritten words of the profile on the top of the stack, her vision blurred with tears.

I've loved Kate since the moment I laid eyes on her. She's my partner, my lover, my best friend. I can't imagine my life without her.

Julianna drew in a ragged breath, rereading the words, an ache of longing, of hunger, in the pit of her gut. She wanted that. To be loved and needed so ferociously. To be someone's everything.

She closed her eyes, her thoughts whirling. She had planned to pretend to have considered all the profiles and just randomly pick one of the couples. After all, she didn't want this baby, and Ellen had assured her that every couple had been carefully screened as to their worthiness for parenthood. Any one of them would have done.

Then, for no particular reason, she had begun to leaf through the first of the profiles Ellen had given her. Something about that couple had jumped out at her. A tone underlying the words, a kind of sanctimony. As if they thought themselves a bit too good for this whole thing. Too good for Julianna. And her baby.

Taking an immediate dislike to them, she had tossed the profile aside and selected another. The next couple had seemed nice enough. Sincere. Eager to be parents. She was a homemaker, he an accountant.

They had bored her silly. Their life-style, what they'd had to say about parenting, their hopes for their child's future.

She had tossed them aside as well.

Then, on Saturday, she had found Richard and Kate. Everything about them had called to her-their life-style, beliefs, hopes and dreams and plans. Theirs was the life, the relationship, she had always fantasized as her own.