Ingrid Weaver - Cinderella's Secret Agent

“It’s the least I can do after the way you brought us home and everything.” Holding Delilah to her shoulder, she walked to the bathroom and took a large bath towel from the shelf over the tub.

By the time she returned, Del had cleared the newspapers and books off the rocking chair and was stacking them under the window. He grabbed a pillow from the couch and propped it against the chair back.

“Del, you don’t have to—”

“Here.” He took the towel from her hand and draped it around his neck, then cupped her elbow and guided her to the chair. He hovered by her side until she and Delilah were comfortably settled. “You should be taking it easy.”

The concern in his voice brought a lump to her throat. It was only gratitude she felt, and a good dose of postpartum hormones. Her emotions were as much a mess as her apartment. “Thanks, Del.”

He used the towel to wipe his face and briskly rubbed his hair dry. “With Delilah’s birth coming so unexpectedly, I realize you likely haven’t had a chance to make all the preparations you would have wanted to, so is there anything you need?”

She swallowed hard and forced a smile. “You mean like a road map for the apartment or maybe a bulldozer for the mess?”

“I was thinking more in the line of food or diapers, but I’ll clean up whatever you want.”

“I appreciate the offer, Del, but I’ll be fine. The fridge is full, and there’s a carton of diapers around here somewhere. If I can remember where,” she added under her breath.

“What about formula? Baby bottles?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of that. I’m…” She hesitated, surprised by the sudden self-consciousness she felt. This was the man who had witnessed her baby’s birth. They had shared an intimacy that transcended sex, and yet she knew by the heat in her cheeks that she was coloring into a beet.

This was absurd, she told herself. Her modesty was misplaced. As natural functions went, this had to be the most wholesome of all. “Delilah won’t need any formula,” she answered finally. “I’m breast-feeding her.”

Beneath the beginnings of Del’s five-o’clock shadow, his face appeared to redden. He gripped the towel he held more tightly. “Oh.”

At his obvious embarrassment, Maggie relaxed. It really was silly to feel awkward, considering what they’d already gone through. She shifted the still sleeping Delilah to the crook of her arm and rested her elbow on the pillow Del had supplied. “Didn’t your sister breast-feed?”

“I don’t know. I guess I never thought about it.”

“It’s the best thing for the baby. Mothers’ milk is the easiest to digest, so the longer I keep it up, the less likely she is to develop allergies.”

“Uh, yes. I can understand that.”

“And it will give her immune system a boost, since she’ll get all my antibodies through the milk.”

“That makes sense.”

“It’s also a lot easier for me.”

He kept his gaze scrupulously on her face. “I suppose so.”

“Especially for night feedings, since there’s no bottle to warm up and nothing to prepare.”

“Uh, right.”

“Considering the state of this place, that’s a good thing.”

“How’s that?”

“I’ll never lose track of where I left the milk.”

He let out a startled laugh. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.”

She grinned, glad to see she had put him at ease.

Del gave his hair one last rub with the towel, then tossed the towel on top of the laundry pile. “Okay, it seems as if you have the basics covered. Is there anything else you can think of that you might need?”

“No, thanks, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”

“Is there a Laundromat close by?”

“There’s a laundry room in the basement, but I’ll get to it, Del. Honestly, contrary to how things look here, I’m normally a very competent person.”

“I know you are, Maggie. But I realize Delilah’s birth being earlier than you expected must have caused you problems.” He paused. “If having to quit work so soon is going to leave you in a tight spot…”

“Hey, did I mention the other good thing about breast-feeding? It’s cheap.”

He didn’t smile. “Maggie, I don’t mean to pry into your finances, but if you need money, just ask.”

Her grin faded. “Del, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll get by. I do have some money put aside, and the baby-sitting I’ll be doing for my neighbor will help tide me over until I can go back to work.”

He nodded. “Okay, but if something comes up, I would be happy to give you a loan, no strings attached.”

“Really, you don’t have to feel obligated….” She was struck by a sudden thought. “Is that it? Do you feel you have to help because I said you could be Delilah’s honorary uncle?”

“I don’t feel obligated to help. I want to.”

“Because I didn’t name Delilah after you just to manipulate you into feeling responsible, and I sure wasn’t looking for money—”

“Maggie, I never thought you were like that,” he said. “I feel privileged to be part of Delilah’s life. Believe me, what you’ve given me is far more valuable than anything I could offer you.”

How did he always know exactly the right thing to say? she wondered. “Thanks, Del.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you. I do a lot of traveling because of my work, so I don’t see much of my nephews and nieces back in Missouri. I’m only in New York temporarily, too, but while I’m here, I’d really like the chance to be Delilah’s honorary uncle. And your friend.”

The roller coaster did another dip and swirl. A friend? Maggie thought. A friend was safe. And a man friend who was only here temporarily was even safer.

What was she worried about? Why was she fighting him? She wasn’t in danger of falling into the same trap with Del that she had with Alan. She wasn’t going to start mistaking her dreams for the real thing. This was a different situation altogether. Yes, it was.

“Thanks, Del,” she said softly. “I can use all the friends I can get.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he returned her smile. “All right. Since your hands are full, how about if I put that crib together before I go?”

“Well…”

“Trust me, I’m good at putting things together. Or would you rather have me do the dishes instead?”

“No. Really. They don’t matter.”

“You’re right. I think having someplace for Delilah to sleep tonight is the priority.” Before she could voice another objection, he switched on a lamp and crossed the room. After a cursory inspection of the parts of the crib, he laid the pieces out on the floor and opened the small plastic package that contained the necessary hardware. “Do you have a screwdriver?”

“In the drawer beside the stove.”

It was probably only a trick of the lighting combined with the pesky moisture that kept filling her eyes, she decided. Yet as Del progressed with his task, Maggie couldn’t help noticing how the lingering dampness on his shirt and pants reflected the lamplight with a gleam that was almost metallic, almost like…like armor. Shining armor.

Maggie pressed her cheek against the top of Delilah’s wispy curls, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

“These pictures are great, Del! Oh, look at this one. You caught the way Delilah wrinkles her nose.” Maggie tilted her head, smiling as she examined the photograph.

“She takes a good picture.”

“Well, so do you. Literally, I mean. You have a real knack with that camera of yours.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

She looked at the next one. “Ooh, she’s blowing a bubble here.”

He folded his arms on the back of the rocking chair and leaned forward to look over her shoulder. “Yeah. That’s a cute one, isn’t it?”