Susan Carlisle - His Best Friend's Baby

“I’m the one sorry this time. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” She gave him her best innocent look.

“You know, like …”

Phoebe enjoyed his flustered expression and the pinkness that began to work its way up his neck.

She rested her hands on each side of her belly. “I’m well aware of the facts of life and how a man can satisfy a woman.”

He grinned. “You’re laughing at me now.”

Phoebe chuckled. “I guess I am.” She opened her car door. “Thanks for the burger and the ride. Also thanks for telling me about Joshua. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

“Hey, wait a minute.”

Before she could get completely out of the car Ryan had come round and was standing on the path, reaching to help her. His hand went to her elbow and he supported her as she stood. He pushed the door closed behind her and it made a thud.

“Listen, if there’s anything that I can do for you …”

He sounded sincere. “I appreciate it … Uh, there is one thing I could use some help with.”

“What’s that?”

His voice held an eager tone as if he was looking for a chance to atone for his earlier behavior. She hated to ask him but couldn’t think of another way to get it done before the baby came. “I had a bed for the baby delivered but it needs to be put together. I would pay you.”

Ryan looked as if she had slapped him. “You will not. How about I come by Saturday afternoon? If I have to work I’ll call and let you know, otherwise I’ll be here on Saturday.”

“Thank you, that would be wonderful.” And she meant it. She’d spent more than one night worrying over how she was going to get that baby bed assembled.

“Not a problem. Do you have tools or do I need to bring mine?”

“You might want to bring yours. I have a few but only necessities like a hammer and screwdriver.”

“Then it’s a plan. Why don’t you give me your number?” Ryan took out his cellphone and punched in the numbers she told him.

“I’ll be here after lunch on Saturday, unless you hear differently from me.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries. Furniture I can do.”

Something about Ryan made her believe that he had many talents if he was just willing to show them.

“Come on. I’ll walk you to your door.”

Phoebe didn’t argue this time.

“See you Saturday.” With that he turned and left her to enter her home.

She was putting her key in the lock when she noticed the curtain of her neighbor’s house flutter. Mrs. Rosenheim had been watching. She would no doubt be over the next afternoon to get all the particulars about who Ryan was and how Phoebe knew him.

Ryan was as good as his word. He was there on Saturday just after lunchtime with a tool bag in his hand. Mrs. Rosenheim was sitting at Phoebe’s kitchen table when the knock came at the door.

“I won’t stay but I am going to check this boy out before I go.”

Phoebe would have argued but it wouldn’t have done her any good. Despite the fact that Mrs. Rosenheim was probably older than Phoebe’s grandmother would be, she was a commanding presence and was only concerned for Phoebe’s welfare. They had started taking care of each other two years ago when Phoebe had moved in.

Joshua had only been home once since she’d been living there. He’d not been impressed with Mrs. Rosenheim, calling her the “old busybody bird.” Phoebe had learned to appreciate her concern. If nothing else, she knew someone would miss her if she didn’t come home.

She opened the door for Ryan. “Come in.”

“How’re you doing?”

The question sounded like he was making pleasant conversation, but he was also looking at her with a trained eye. He smelled of sawdust with a hint of citrus. It made her want to step closer. Take a deeper breath.

“I’m feeling fine.” She smiled and he nodded.

“Good. I told Sophia that I would check.”

Mrs. Rosenheim shuffled into the room.

Ryan looked from her to Phoebe. “Ryan, this is my neighbor, Mrs. Rosenheim.”

He sat his tool bag on the floor at his feet and extended a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You’re American.”

“Yes, ma’am. Texan.”

Mrs. Rosenheim made a noncommittal sound low in her throat. Ryan gave Phoebe a questioning look. She shrugged her shoulders.

“So you knew Mr. Taylor.”

A guarded look came over Ryan’s face. “Yes, JT and I served in Iraq together.”

“Bad thing, leaving Phoebe here all by herself all the time. A man should want to be at home with his wife. She needs someone to watch over her. Help her.”

Phoebe didn’t miss the color wash out of Ryan’s face.

“It was his job. The army,” Phoebe said quietly.

“I know, sweetie. But a woman not only wants a man to help put a roof over her head but to be around when the times are hard.” She directed the last few words at Ryan.

“Uh, Mrs. Rosenheim, I think we need to let Ryan get started on the bed. I’m sure he has other places he needs to go today.” Phoebe shook her head at him when she started to say something.

“I’m next door if you need me.” Mrs. Rosenheim made her way out with a last glance at Ryan.

“Formidable lady,” Ryan said with a grin.

“Yes. She and Joshua didn’t like each other on sight, but she’s been good to me. She was with the men who came from the military department to tell me about Joshua. I don’t know what I would have done without her shoulder to cry on. She’s also the one who realized I was pregnant when I started being sick.”

Phoebe suddenly needed to focus on something else. She shook away the memories. Ryan was the first male to have come into her home in over a year. He seemed to take up the entire space. “Anyway, let me show you where the bed is.”

Ryan followed Phoebe down a hallway that had four doors leading off of it. She stopped at the next to last one and nudged the door open.

Against one wall was a large brown box that Ryan guessed was the baby bed. That didn’t surprise him. What did were the piles of books stacked around the room and the desk painted in a folk art style with a chair of the same kind sitting in one corner. The walls were painted a dark gray. Two cans of paint sat in another corner. He fully expected to see a room decorated in all the frills and with toys waiting for a baby. He’d listened to enough mothers talk about what they had done in the baby’s room or were going to do to know that Phoebe was far behind in her preparations.

She placed her hand on the box. “This is the bed.”

“Great. I’ll get it put together.”

Walking to the door, she looked back at him. “You didn’t have to agree to this, but I really appreciate you doing it.”

“Not a problem.”

He’d been working for an hour when Phoebe returned to stand in the doorway. His back was to her but he felt her presence.

“I brought you something to drink.” She moved to the desk and placed the drink on it.

Ryan stood from where he’d been tightening a screw on the back of the bed. He picked up the glass, took a long swallow of water and put it back on the desk again.

Phoebe had an odd look on her face that quickly disappeared.

Ryan said, “I guess I’m doing pretty well. I don’t think I’m going to have but two screws and one thingamajig left over.”

She laughed.

Had he ever heard anything more beautiful? It was almost musical. He vowed then to give her a reason to laugh often.

“My father always said that if you didn’t have parts left over then you didn’t put it together correctly.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“In a small town about fifty miles from here.”

“Is that where you met JT?”