Lois Richer - A Baby by Easter

“…Susannah would be great at it. They really connect.”

“I’m sorry, Connie,” he interrupted. “What did you say?”

“I said, why don’t you ask Susannah about caring for Darla after school? She has her certification as a special care aide. And she’s very level-headed. They get along so well. I’m sure Darla would love it.”

“I don’t think a pregnant woman—”

“Don’t be silly. This is October and Susannah’s not due until Easter. I think it would be perfect,” Connie enthused. She lowered her voice. “Susannah really needs a job, David. Working with Darla is taxing but it would only be for a few hours a day and it would keep her mind occupied. The hours Darla spends at her school would also give Susannah some time on her own.”

David hated the whole idea. He didn’t want a pregnant woman in his employ, someone else to be responsible for. Especially someone he was faintly attracted to.

Faintly?

David shut off the mocking laughter in his head and refocused. His sister had to have someone, and clearly the woman the agency had sent over wasn’t going to work out. Again.

“Will you consider it?” Connie asked. “Please?”

“I can’t decide this right now. I left the office in a rush and I’ve got an urgent appointment in a few minutes.” David thought for a moment. “Could Darla stay there for the afternoon, just till I get home? Then I’m going to have to talk to her. This can’t happen again.”

“I’ll make sure she stays. You go do your work. We’ll be fine,” Connie insisted. “But promise me you’ll think about my suggestion. It would be so perfect.”

“Connie, Darla is bigger than Susannah. And stronger, judging by what I saw. She could hurt your friend. Not intentionally, but she does lash out.”

“But that’s the funny thing. She hasn’t with Susannah. Maybe because of the baby, I don’t know.” Connie sighed. “I know how you like to dot all the i’s, David. Go back to your office. Think on it. We’ll be here.”

“Thanks. You’re a good friend, Connie.” David hung up and wasted a few minutes musing on the idea.

“Am I fired?”

He blinked and saw the helper he’d hired staring at him.

“Because if I’m not, I quit. I can’t do this. She’s—violent.”

“She just gets a little frustrated. I’m sorry if Darla scared you. Here.” He handed her a wad of money. “That should cover your expenses. Thanks a lot.”

By the time David returned to his office, his father’s former client was antsy and David had his work cut out assuring the high-profile man that his case wouldn’t suffer just because his father wasn’t handling it. David worked steadily until he suddenly noticed the office was quiet and the clock said ten to six.

He was so far behind he could have used another three hours to catch up. But no way was he going to add to Connie’s responsibilities by shirking his. Traffic was backed up and by the time he arrived on their street the sun had long since dipped below the craggy red Rincon Mountain tips.

“I’m so sorry,” he began as the door opened. He stopped. Susannah. “Hello.” She looked infinitely better than she had last time. In fact, she glowed.

“Hello, yourself.” She didn’t smile. “We’re about to sit down to dinner.”

“Then I won’t bother you.” He could feel the ice in her voice. “If you’ll call Darla?”

“No, I won’t.” She stepped forward and pulled the door closed behind her, forcing him to take a step back. “You can’t make her leave now.”

“Why not?” The peremptory tone of her voice confused him.

“Darla’s spent a huge amount of time helping prepare this meal,” Susannah informed him. “It’s only fair she should get to enjoy it.”

“I’m not sure this is about fairness. But—”

She cut him off.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me, that you think I’m some kind of a tramp. It was evident in the way you looked at me when I told Connie I was pregnant.” Her face flushed red but she didn’t stop glaring at him. “Fine. No problem. But this isn’t about me.”

If that’s what she thought, her perceptions were way off. David had lost valuable billing time in the past two weeks thinking about Susannah Wells, and not one thought had been negative.

“Did you hear me?” she asked, frowning.

“This isn’t about you,” he repeated, noting the way the porch light reflected the emerald sparks in her eyes. The deep hollows under her cheeks had filled out a little and that pallid, sickly look was completely gone. Her blond hair shone like a swath of hammered gold as it tumbled down her back.

“It isn’t about you, either. It’s about Darla. She’s tried very hard to make up for worrying you by leaving your house without telling anyone. Helping with dinner is her way of making up.” Susannah lowered her voice as the door creaked open. “Can’t you let her have that much?”

She made it sound like he was some kind of an ogre. David fumed. But he kept his lips buttoned because Darla’s dark head appeared in the doorway.

“Can we stay for dinner, Davy? Connie invited, I didn’t ask.” His sister stood in front of him, hands clasped at her waist as she waited. She looked different and it took David a minute to figure out why. Her hair. It had been styled in a way that showed off her pretty eyes.

“Do you deserve to stay?” he asked, waiting for her to blow up.

But Darla simply shook her head.

“No, I don’t,” she murmured. “I promised not to leave the house without asking, and I broke my promise. I’m sorry, Davy.”

“Are you really?” he asked, suspicious of the meek tone in her voice. He glanced at Susannah but she was watching Darla, her face an expressionless mask.

“I really am.” Darla peeked at Susannah who gave a slight nod. “I got mad because Ms. Matchett said my fairy-tale book was silly. We argued, and she said I was a dummy.” Her bottom lip trembled, but after a moment she collected herself. “I didn’t like her calling me that so I left. But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Davy.”

His hands tightened into balls of anger. Dummy. The one put-down Darla hated most of all. No wonder she’d run.

“I was really scared, Darla,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know if you’d been hurt or got lost or what had happened. I was ready to call the police.”

“The police?” Her eyes grew huge, then flared. “But I didn’t do anything wrong!” She stamped her foot.

Susannah cleared her throat. Darla’s entire demeanor altered.

“I’m sorry, Davy,” she said. “I did do something wrong. I know it. And I won’t do that ever again. I promise. Okay?”

Those big brown eyes—they always got to him. Peering up at him so adoringly from the first day he’d seen her in her bassinet. The innocence was still there.

“Okay. I forgive you.”

She threw her arms around him in an exuberant hug and nearly squeezed the breath out of him. Behind her, Susannah hid her grin behind her hand.

“Thank you, Davy.” Darla was all smiles now. “So can we stay for dinner? I helped,” she said proudly.

“If Connie says it’s okay,” he muttered, knowing he’d been bested.

“She will.”

He watched his sister and Susannah share a grin before Darla hurried into the house.

“She was very hurt by that Matchett person’s comment,” Susannah murmured.

He nodded.

“She hates to be called dumb.” He studied her. “What did you say to her?”

“What makes you think I said anything?” She preceded him into the house.

“Connie seems to think the two of you have developed some kind of rapport.” He couldn’t help but notice the way Susannah’s face tightened.