Teresa Southwick - What Makes A Father

“Wow, it’s quiet in here. And really neat.” Was there the tiniest bit of envy in her expression? “I’m feeling a little inadequate because I can’t seem to manage two infants and an apartment without leaving a trail of debris and destruction in my wake.”

“Oh, well, you know—”

After several weeks of him visiting the babies every chance he could, she’d reluctantly accepted his offer to watch them while she went to her office for a meeting. He wasn’t completely sure she hadn’t done a background check on him before agreeing. Fortunately he’d already passed the diaper-changing, bottle-feeding and burping tests. Still, Annie had been very obviously conflicted about walking out the door and leaving him in charge. He’d assured her there was nothing to worry about and shooed her off to work.

She’d barely been gone five minutes before all hell had broken loose. Two code browns and a simultaneous red alert on the hunger front. His situational readiness went to DEFCON 1 and he’d done what he’d had to do.

Glancing at the hallway then at her, he said, “I thought you’d be gone longer.”

She walked over and kissed Charlie’s forehead. The scent of her skin wrapped around Mason as if she’d touched him, too, and he found himself wishing she had. The night she’d cried and he held her in his arms was never far from his mind. She’d felt good there, soft and sweet.

“I stayed for the high points then ducked out of the meeting. I just missed my babies and didn’t want to be away from them any longer,” she said. “How did it go? Where’s Sarah?”

At that moment his mother walked into the room holding the baby in question. Florence Blackburne was inching toward sixty but looked ten years younger. Her brown hair, straight and turned under just shy of her shoulders, was shot with highlights. He’d been about to tell Annie that he’d called her for help, but he was outed now.

“You must be Annie. I’m Florence, Mason’s mother.”

Annie’s hazel eyes opened wide when she looked at him. “I thought you said you could handle everything.”

“When I said that, the ratio of adults to babies was one to one. And I did handle it,” he said defensively. “I called for reinforcements.” He set the bottle on the coffee table and lifted Charlie to his shoulder to coax a burp out of him. It came almost instantly, loud and with spit-up. “That’s my boy,” he said proudly.

“Seriously?” she said.

“Eventually he’ll learn to say excuse me.” Mason shrugged then returned to the subject of calling his mom. “I admit that I underestimated my multitasking abilities.”

“Oh, please,” Flo said. “You just couldn’t stand that one of your children was unhappy.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” he acknowledged.

“Even though I told him that crying isn’t a bad thing. They’d be fine.” Flo was talking to Annie now. “You know this already. You’ve been doing it by yourself since these little sweethearts were born.”

“I have.” Annie gave him a look that could mean anything from “You’re a child-care jackass” to “Finally someone gets it.”

“How nice that you had backup on your first solo mission.”

Flo’s blue eyes brimmed with sympathy and understanding as only another mother’s could. She handed the baby girl to Annie. “You’re not alone now, honey. Being a mother is the hardest job you’ll ever do times two. And sometimes you need a break. Recharge your batteries. Take a deep breath. Go get your hair trimmed or a pedicure. I just want you to know that I’m here. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“I would never impose,” Annie said.

“These are my grandchildren. It wouldn’t be an imposition. I have a part-time job as a receptionist in a dermatology office and my hours are flexible, so we can work around that. Mason will give you my number.”

“Thank you.” Annie kissed Sarah’s cheek. “I appreciate that.”

“What are grandmothers for?” She shrugged. “Full disclosure, I might spoil them just a little because I’ve waited a long time to play the grandmother card. Charlie and Sarah will learn that my house is different, but I will never compromise your rules. I might be prejudiced, but these are the most beautiful babies I’ve ever seen. Although I don’t see much of Mason in them.”

“Gee, thanks, Ma,” he teased.

“I didn’t mean it like that, son.” She smiled at him. “It’s just that they look a lot like you, Annie.”

She pressed her cheek to baby Sarah’s. “There was a strong resemblance between my sister and me.”

“Then she was very beautiful,” his mom said.

“She was,” Annie agreed.

The subtext was that Annie was beautiful, too, and Mason couldn’t agree more. Today she was professionally dressed in slacks, a silky white blouse and black sweater. Low-heeled pumps completed the outfit, but he missed her bare feet. Her straight, silky blond hair fell past her shoulders and she was wearing makeup for the first time since he’d met her. And he’d been right. She was a knockout.

“Well, you two, now that everything is under control, I’ll be going.” Florence grabbed her purse, kissed Mason on the cheek and smiled fondly at her grandbabies. “It was wonderful to meet you, Annie. You don’t need my approval, but it has to be said that you’ve done a remarkable job with your children. And I sincerely meant what I said. Call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Blackburne—”

“It’s Flo.” She patted Annie’s shoulder. “’Bye.”

And then the two of them were alone, each holding a baby, and Mason wondered what Annie was thinking.

“So that was my mom.”

“You have her eyes.”

He’d heard that before. “It turns out that when one of my children is crying because he or she has needs that I can’t instantly meet, it’s not something I manage very well.”

“As flaws go, it’s not an exceptionally bad one to have,” she conceded. “So you called your mom.”

“Yeah.”

“And if I got home later and your mom was gone, would you have let me believe you sailed through your first time alone with them trouble free?”

He would have wanted to. There was the whole male pride thing, after all. But… “No. I’d have told you she’d been here.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s the truth and it’s the right thing to do.” He shrugged and a dozing Charlie squirmed a little against his shoulder.

“I’m not sure I believe you.”

He remembered her saying she was a skeptic and had her reasons. Skepticism was rearing its ugly head now. “In time you’ll be convinced that I embrace the motto that cheaters never prosper.”

“And in time, if I’m convinced, something tells me your mom is responsible for that honest streak.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She’s really something.”

“She’s just excited and happy to finally have even one grandchild. In her world twins is winning the lottery.”

“I didn’t mean that as a criticism.” There was a baby quilt on the sofa beside him. Annie took it and spread the material on the floor in front of the coffee table. She put Sarah on it then sat next to him. “I meant just the opposite. She’s full of energy in the best possible way. The kind of supportive, protective mother I wish my mom had been. The kind I want to be.”

That little kernel of information reminded Mason that he didn’t know much about her. The night they’d been getting acquainted he’d given her some facts about himself. She’d only offered up what she did for a living and then he’d held her when she’d cried. He hadn’t been able to focus on much besides the soft curves of her body and hadn’t noticed how little he’d learned. Now he was becoming aware of how guarded she was. And it wasn’t just about protecting Charlie and Sarah. She held parts of herself back and he wondered why.