What Makes A Father. Teresa Southwick

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      Mason was feeding a bottle to Charlie when he heard footsteps coming up the outside stairs followed by the apartment door opening. Annie walked in and looked at him then glanced around.

      “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. СКАЧАТЬ