His Baby (2 page)

Carl lifted an eyebrow.
See Sis
, he seemed to be saying,
he's not so bad
. Diana shook her head, then smiled despite herself. Carl
got around her sometimes, she thought.

"Yeah, we have some eggs," Diana said after a
minute, heading back to the table where she picked up her cup and took a sip of
coffee, then chanced a look straight at Zack. It was hard to guess what he was
thinking.

Well, she thought, he showed up today, but would he show up
tomorrow? Lark was a baby, and men who didn't have the courage to show up on a
wedding day might not have the courage to stick around through diapers and sick
babies and all night teething sessions.

After working all day.

In the end, she suspected, she'd still be taking care of
Lark, but Carl, well, Carl would have felt he did the right thing. All right
big brother, she thought, we'll try it.

"Eggs and what else?" Zack was asking. He followed
her over to the refrigerator and they pulled out the ingredients for what
indeed did turn out to be a great omelet.

Diana was settling Lark down in her crib while Carl and Zack
did the dishes. She could hear their noise through the floor boards while she
patted Lark on the tummy and let the baby grasp her finger with her tiny hand. Carl
seemed to have relaxed but Zack was still watching her a little warily. At
least he hadn't tried to touch Lark or to take her in his arms. Diana knew she
wasn't ready for that. He seemed like a nice enough man, but he didn't seem
like a father. His stories were all about traveling and sports. He seemed a
little superficial, Diana thought.

Zack's father owned a big stationary supply house, serving
stores all through the Midwest. Diana didn't remember Robin mentioning that. All
Robin had done before the wedding was talk about their new apartment, what it
would be like. The kind of sheets they would have, the dishes, the silver, the
glassware. Zack had a job after graduation, Diana remembered that, but she
hadn't known that he was planning to work for his father.

When Robin met him, Zack had been about to graduate from
Business School. He had taken a couple years out between college and graduate
school, so he was a little older than most of his fellow students but to Robin
that just made him more attractive. Diana thought that the attraction older men
held for some young women wasn't just a cliché. Zack wasn't that much older
than she was, although, looking at him, Diana felt old.

Of course, some people said she had been born old. Most days
she felt like that way. Diana had been the big sister, in charge of her brother
and sister, cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, reading stories, as long as she
could remember. Of course, Ma and Papa were sick too, both of them, first Ma
and then Papa.

People called it a blessing when he died but Diana didn't
agree, exactly. She wished he’d figured out a way to stick around. She thought
that she might have even been able to figure out a way to get along with a
stepmother if he fell in love again. But Ma and Papa had been so much in love,
so tuned into each other that no one else mattered, certainly not their three
children. The children could take care of themselves.

Or Diana could take care of them.

She looked down at Lark, lying on her back, face smooth,
mouth slightly open. She was such a pretty baby, Diana thought. She took care
of Lark now. It had made Robin's loss easier to bear, somehow, fortified Diana
against the sudden loneliness of the house every night. It wasn't fair to Lark,
she thought. After all, although they had lost them early, Donna and Robin and
Carl had both parents in their lives. Lark didn't have any. Oh, she had Donna
and Carl, but it wasn't the same. Maybe Zack wouldn't try, maybe he would run
away, but perhaps Carl was right. They had to give him a chance.

Donna leaned over to give Lark a kiss on her forehead, then
straightened up to stare out the window for a moment. She was tired and should
probably take a nap, but Carl and Zack were downstairs and-- she turned towards
the door, then caught her breath in surprise. Zack was standing there, watching
her. Her heart began to thud uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"You startled me."

"I can see that." He glanced around the room,
which still bore the faded old wallpaper, cabbage roses and big green leaves,
that Ma and Papa had picked out years ago. An oval rag rug covered most of the
bare wood floor. The rocker was one that Diana had brought up from the living
room but the crib and changing table were modern, strikingly different than the
old room. She stopped taking inventory and looked back at him. He was staring
across to the crib, to Lark.

He opened his mouth as though to say something but instead
sighed and took a step forward, hesitating as if asking her permission. Diana
nodded. When he had joined her, they turned to face the crib, but after a
moment, Diana stole a look at the man beside her.

She couldn't tell what he was thinking. A muscle in his jaw
was jumping a little as though he were tensing it and he had crossed his arms
in front of his chest, tucking his hands in as though he were afraid to touch. He
hadn't asked to hold her yet. Diana wondered if he was unwilling to hold her or
if he had never held a baby. She saw him swallow, take a deep breath, and then
look up through the window across the back yard.

"I didn't know, Diana," he said after a long
moment's silence. "Robin didn't tell me, but I should have guessed."

"Why?" She settled down in the rocker.

"She was so upset, distracted."
"She said that the two of you fought a lot, right before the wedding. She--
"
"We didn't fight much, we just didn't really talk. I was so surprised when
she agreed to marry me, I figured I shouldn't push my luck. I had tests to pass
and papers to turn in and interviews to go to." He stood with his hands
crossed, self-contained.

"But you ended up working for your father." That's
what he had said downstairs.

"He convinced me I owed him a couple of years. He said
he'd make me a partner in the business if it worked out."

"You can't turn that down," she said, leaning her
head back against the hard wood of the rocker.

"I could. I should have," he said bitterly. "I've
tried to please my father my whole life but somehow whatever I do is the wrong
thing. I disappoint him."

"What do you mean?"
"I'm my parents' only child. They-- look, it doesn't matter." He
looked away, cutting off that line of inquiry. She didn't want to cut it off.

"Is that why you're here?"

"What do you mean?" He asked the question of her
this time.

"I mean, are you here because your father thinks you
should come?"
I shouldn't mock him,
she thought,
he'll leave
quicker
.

"My father doesn't know I'm here. He-- I don't know how
he's going to react to the news that he has a granddaughter. He's been pushing
me to settle down, to get married, to have a kid." Zack laughed, a short
sharp sound with no amusement in it. "Maybe I've been able to fulfill one
of his requirements anyway."

She turned her head away then, aware of a sudden sense of
panic. Grandparents? She could barely handle the idea of Zack in Lark's life,
in
her
life, but who were these grandparents?

"What's the matter, Diana?"
She hesitated, then decided she might as well tell him the truth. "I'm a
little overwhelmed, Zack. I'm not ready for all these new people in Lark's
life."

"In your life, too," he guessed. He uncrossed his
arms, rested one hand on the crib bars, facing her.

"In my life," she agreed. "I've just gotten
my balance back, worked out all the details of baby sitters and got the house
organized and now all this. I just don't know when... "

"We can take it slow," he said soothingly.

"We're going to have to. I work full time and I take
care of Lark by myself the rest of the time. Oh, Carl and Mary help, but they
have their own lives and I can't expect them to do more."

"But Carl is married, right? Why didn't he take
Lark?"

"Why should he? Robin was living with me when she died.
Lark was used to me. Why should Carl take on the responsibility? Besides, he
got married after Robin died."
"I'm sorry. I just meant--"

"What did you mean? Why shouldn't a single woman take
care of Lark? Why would Carl and Mary be better? A baby isn't a package to hand
off you know."

"Slow down, Diana, please, relax." He lifted both
hands, palms out, in the classic gesture for 'stop'. "I'm just trying to
figure things out. Carl seems to take all this so seriously, I guess I'm just
trying to understand the dynamics."

"Dynamics?"

"I want to fit in, Diana."

"Fit in? Look, Zack, it isn't going to be that easy. I
was there when Lark was born. Robin had no one, no one but me and Carl, but
Carl has started to build his own life. He and Mary have had a hard time of it
and-- " She stood up abruptly and took a step forward but stopped when he
spoke.

"And you haven't?"

"I'm fine. I'm used to it." She moved another
step, looked in the crib. Lark was fine, still sleeping peacefully.

 "Taking care of Lark?" he asked. She looked up at
him and saw that he'd been watching her.

"Taking care of Lark. And Robin and Carl. Why wouldn't
I? Why would I send them off to strangers? Right now you're a stranger, Zack,
and I'm not sure I trust you."

"But I make good eggs, don't I?"
"Yes, that's true, but it isn't just a matter of cooking one meal."

"And cleaning up. Carl and I did the dishes."

"All right, thank you for cleaning up."

"We did all the dishes, even the ones already in the
sink."

"Oh, all right, thank you very much, now listen to me
for a minute."

"Yes, ma'am." He was shaking his head.

"Stop it," she ordered.

"Stop what?" He looked innocent.

"You're mocking me," she said, sure she was going
to lose her temper. She took a slow, steady breath and paused.

"I'm not. I'm not mocking you. I'm trying to figure out
the rules so I can play by them. Rule number one seems to be that you're in
charge." She looked up at him.

"In charge of what?"

"In charge of what happens next. So tell me," he
said softly, "what happens next?" He stared down at her. She met his
gaze, startled at his intensity, at his nearness, at the shudder she felt along
her skin from his touch on her bare forearms. She was staring back at him, lost
in his dark eyes suddenly, unsure what he meant, unsure what she wanted.

She looked away, looked at his lips and thought for a moment
that she'd never seen a mouth like that, or at least she'd never looked at
someone so closely, so intimately, never been so aware of a man's mouth. When
she looked back up at his eyes, they had changed, become darker and deeper and
she was even more lost for a moment.

She felt his gaze all the way to her toes, felt his
nearness, the heat and strength of his body. She felt afraid and thrilled, all
at once, and brought her arms up between them, let her hands rest on his chest,
felt the hard muscles under her fingers, under the smooth shirt. At her touch,
he let go of her and stepped back.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't mean--"

"Didn't mean what?" she asked shakily, automatically.

Before he could answer, Carl spoke softly from the doorway. "Everything
okay up here?"

Diana swallowed, took a step back. "Everything's fine,
Carl."

Zack didn't say anything, just turned and pushed past Carl
into the hallway. She heard him take a few steps down the hall then close the
bathroom door. Diana looked up at Carl, unsure what to say.

"Was he kissing you?" Carl asked sternly. "Or
threatening you?"

"Of course not," Diana said sharply. "Neither.”

Carl leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms. "Well,
I wondered what was happening up here."

"He came in to look at the baby," she said,
lifting her chin a little to look up at him.

"I see," he said flatly.

"There's nothing to see, Carl. Stop it." She
glanced away, annoyed with him. Was he trying a role switch here?

"I don't want him to think he has to seduce you to get
to Lark," he said softly.

"Don't be absurd. Why would you say such a thing?"

"I've seen the way he looks at you. I don't know that I
like it." He pushed away from the door jamb.

"I think you're seeing something that isn't there, Carl.
Besides, you brought him here. You thought it was a good idea."

"Maybe I was wrong." Carl took a step into the
room.

"No, you were right. Lark has a right to have a father,
at least if he wants to stick around."

"All right. We'll give it a try."

"But let's set down some guidelines," she
suggested. "Zack is probably right. We need to have some rules."

Downstairs she started to put together another pot of coffee.
Whether it was the unexpected arrival of Zack White or Zack himself, Donna felt
a little more awake but knew that the energy would fade away. She was, she
decided firmly, definitely going to take a nap as soon as she could get the two
of them out of here.

Diana arrived at Carl and Mary's house just before sunset. The
sun was low in the sky, beams broken by the trees at the back of their yard,
throwing long low-angled brilliant sunlight across the narrow open section
between trees and house. Carl had put his three black labs back in their pen
just under the trees and set up some lounge chairs around the barbecue, but
there was no one in sight. They were probably in the house, staying cool.

Diana saw all this just before she parked the car in her
usual place, which was perpendicular to the double car garage just past the
back edge of the house. She parked next to a strange car, a shiny sedan with
mud splashed on the back bumper and fender. The car had Illinois license plates.

Safe to assume that Zack decided to stick around for the
weekend, she thought.

Lark was asleep in her car seat in the back seat. She had so
much sleep today that Diana suspected they'd be up all night again. She held
the car's back door open, unhooking Lark's car seat from the seat belt to
convert it to a carry seat. At least Diana had taken a nap this afternoon as
well. She felt a lot better after that nap, a shower, a little play time with
Lark, and some chores, all of that after making clear to Zack and Carl that
there were going to have to be ground rules but not articulating them. Hopefully
they hadn't figured out she didn't know what the rules were. Instead, she'd
chased them out, looking for a few peaceful moments in her quiet house.

Instead of napping right away, Diana pulled out Robin's photo
album. Diana had never really looked at the pictures before, not by herself. Diana
didn't keep many pictures herself. Robin had been snapping them all the time,
building up the album by selecting a few pictures from the collection their
parents and grandparents had left. All of them were gone now, all but a couple
of cousins and their families who farmed north of here.

The album had pictures of Robin as a baby, being held by or
sitting next to Diana often enough. Robin and Carl were only 19 months apart in
age. In one picture, Diana, not much more than a sturdy toddler herself, sat
between the two babies, a protective arm around each of them.

Robin had been such a cute kid, heart-shaped face, thin red
lips, tiny straight nose, expressive smile, dark hair and pale skin. She had
been a tiny child, energetic and muscular, a real contrast to Carl. He'd always
been long, lanky and a bit bigger for his age than anyone would suspect. He was
strong, too, something she suspected people had been taking advantage of for a
long time. Why was it that people saw the big strong lummox that he presented
to the world and missed the sharp mind, careful presentation, and sweet nature?
Mary, his wife, hadn't.

Mary had probably fallen in love with Carl in junior high
school, but Carl didn't really notice her until the Junior Prom in high school,
Diana thought. He had been too focused on football and cars.

There were some other people in the pictures here, people
she didn't know although she felt she should. Whitney High School was a
regional high school, drawing students from the local area, bringing them into
town for their education. There were a few pictures of Robin with boyfriends
and girlfriends, most of whom Diana knew.

Diana felt a sharp pain of regret while looking at the
pictures. She had been busy taking care of her ill parents, helping to run the
house and to run herd on Robin and Carl. Her high school days were a blur; her
dating experiences were few. She simply hadn't had the time.

The album contained a couple of pictures of Lark, one taken
by the hospital and one taken by Diana as Robin had come home from the hospital.
Lark was very different looking from her mother. The baby was round-faced with
a soft curve to her cheek, a fat bow-shaped mouth, and light blonde hair. Of
course, Lark was a baby, a big healthy baby and that made a difference. On the
same page were a couple of pictures of Zack, slightly thinner and more intense
looking, very flattering pictures. He had looked younger, more carefree. Today,
in person, he had looked worried.

Suddenly discovering you were a father had to be a surprise
and probably quite worrying.

 As if she had conjured him up, Zack appeared next to her.

"Do you need any help with anything?" he asked.

He still looked neat, she thought, entirely too fresh for
this heat. Diana handed him the diaper bag and her purse, half expecting an
argument about the purse. He slung both of the bags over his shoulder and took
a couple steps back, waiting for her. "Has she been asleep long?" he
asked, studying Lark in her now-converted carry seat.

"Just on the trip over here," Diana said. She
didn't want to say anything but he was being polite. They walked a little way
in silence. For a moment Diana wanted to erase him from the picture, to be
carrying Lark across the lawn like so many other Saturday or Sunday evenings,
just her and Carl and Mary. Who was this guy? she thought. He hadn't wanted to
be part of Robin's life. Why did he want to be part of Lark's?

What had Carl said to him to make him come here? What did he
want? Somehow, when they'd left the house this morning, what they were doing
seemed clear; now, it wasn't clear at all what was going to happen next or even
why Diana should tolerate Zack. She hesitated for just a minute more before deciding
to go ahead and challenge him.

"I'm actually surprised to see you still here, Mr.
White," she said slowly.

"Why is that?" he said politely.

"I didn't think Robin meant that much to you."

He took a breath, as though she had wounded him, then
stopped on the lawn. She kept walking, despite the urge to turn and look at him.
He caught up with her after a moment.

"You get right to the point, don't you?"

She paused, glancing at him. "Isn't that the heart of
the matter? Why should Lark matter to you when Robin didn't?"

"I suppose that is the heart of the matter. But what
does that have to do with Lark? She's my daughter."
"But what does that mean to you, exactly?"

"I don't know, exactly. I hadn't really thought about
children, what having them meant, what Lark means."

"Not even with Robin?" Diana didn't believe that. Men
talking about marriage seemed to talk about children all the time, one way or
the other. "Didn't you talk about children with Robin?"
"Actually, no, we didn't. I just--we were in love. I was in love anyway, I
don't know about Robin."

Diana took offense. "What do you mean, you don't know
about Robin?"

"Robin was a wonderful person. I was very infatuated
with her but she couldn't seem to decide about me or about her future. She
didn't know if she wanted to move back home or whether she wanted to move on. It's
all she ever talked about. She picked me because she wanted to move on. I say
that with the benefit of hindsight, of course."

"But you didn't marry her. You moved on. Without
her."

"Diana, I get the feeling you think I was the bad guy
here."

"Think?" Diana exploded. "I think you--"
The screen door opened in front of her and she looked up the couple of steps
into the house.

"Hey, Diana," Carl said amiably from his towering
perch. He reached out and took Lark in her chair. Diana handed the baby up
automatically and followed Carl into the kitchen.

"Hi, Diana," Mary said, looking up from her place
at the counter. There were already too many people in the kitchen, Diana
thought. Carl had put Lark's chair up on the table. Mary came over to say
hello, wiping her hands on a dish towel held comfortably above her pregnant
belly, then pulling Diana into a hug. She looked, Diana thought, even bigger
than last week, if that was possible. Her belly was hard and round between them.
Lark smiled at Mary, waving her hands and kicking her feet.

"I think we should talk about this later," Zack
said behind her.

"I think we should talk about it now," Diana said,
still fuming. She could see that Mary was watching her curiously.

"Talk about whatever it is in a minute," Carl
said, turning from the refrigerator with a platter in his hand. "I think
Zack should help me with these steaks."

Mary turned to Diana, chattering. "My parents brought
over a playpen today. My mother brought it down from her attic. It's an old
one, but kind of pretty. We set it up in the living room. Do you want to see it?
Lark can play in it when she's here. What do you think?" she said, waiting
a moment while Diana pulled the sleepy baby out of the chair and took her with
them into the living room. Diana felt manipulated, by Mary and by Carl, but
decided she would play along for the moment.

It was just a few steps away, but quieter and cooler in here.
The living room was tiny. Everything about this house was tiny, when it came
down to it. Diana wasn't sure where they were going to put a child when Mary
had this baby, although maybe that was a silly consideration. There was already
a crib at the foot of their bed and here, between the couch and a recliner, was
the playpen, wedged against the wall.

"How are you feeling, Mary?" Diana said, jostling
Lark, who was wriggling a little, pulling on Diana's hair.

"I feel good, Diana. Finally stopped being sick this
week. I'm still tired all the time, but Carl is such a help." Mary turned
on the floor lamp at the end of the couch next to the playpen. The small square
pen was an old-fashioned one, with bars of polished wood and painted trim with
a thin covered mattress covering its floor, not like the vinyl and woven cord
you saw in the stores today, and in her own living room, Diana thought. Mary
chattered on, telling the story of the playpen, fussing with the quilts and
blankets folded over the edge.

Diana sat herself down on the edge of the couch, but Mary
seemed to need to fuss for a few minutes. Finally, as though Diana had given
her permission by doing it first, she sat down cautiously in the recliner and
slid back into the overstuffed chair. Even in the dim light, Diana could see
the sharp vertical line between Mary's eyebrows. Mary had always worn a simple
pageboy, cut to fall just below her chin, but now her hair looked lank and dull.

"You look tired, Mary. I'm worried this is too much for
you tonight," Diana said.

Mary shook her head. "No, we have to eat. And I have to
get used to this, don't I, carrying the baby around all of the time? Waking up
in the middle of the night? Being tired all the time?"

"I guess it feels like that," Diana said after a
minute. She hadn't carried Lark, after all, Lark was Robin's daughter. How was
it possible, then, that she felt so possessive of Lark now? She had been there
from Lark's first breath, had full charge of Lark in the first week of her
life, Diana thought, but it wasn't the same. What could she say to help Mary? "Robin
was tired a lot, more tired than she expected to be," she offered, feeling
out of her depth.

"My mother says you get used to it," Mary said
with a sigh. "I always laughed at those people in the gym who walked on
the treadmill all the time and climbed fake stairs, but sometimes now I think
that my heart isn't strong enough for this."

Diana felt a thrill of alarm and bit back her fearful
exclamation. "What does your doctor think?"

"I haven't told her that, Diana. Besides, she thinks I
should watch out for salty foods and eat more vegetables but vegetables make me
want to gag."

"You should tell her," Diana said, "you
should tell her what you're worried about. And that you can't eat
vegetables."

"I don't have any energy to walk. She said I should
take a walk every day but it's so hard. How can I take a walk every day when I
can barely get from the kitchen to the living room some nights?"

Diana wanted to protest, to lecture, but some instinct held
back her pointed words. It was obvious, wasn't it? She wasn't Carl's mother or
Mary's mother-in-law. She had to stop acting like it, stop trying to run their
lives. But it was hard to stop, because Diana had run their lives, all of them,
for so long. It was hard to give up the habits of a lifetime.

"Just take it slowly, Mary," Diana said after a
minute. "Maybe if you got more rest, you'd have more energy for walks and
that sort of thing."

"But someone has to do these things," Mary said
sharply, then looked sheepishly at Diana. "You're busy with Lark, I can't
expect-- " Mary stopped, frowned even more severely. "Carl does what
he can but he works a lot."

Carl wasn't the problem and Diana wasn't listening to that
statement although she nodded as if acknowledging it.
You mean
, Diana
thought,
I don't do as much as I did for Robin
. Well, that was true. Robin
didn't have a husband and the two of them, Robin and Diana, had been living
together. But all that didn't take away Mary's jealousy or whatever it was.

"Tell you what. Why don't we let Lark try out this
playpen and you stay in here and keep her company? I'll go help Carl get the
food ready, okay?"

Mary leaned forward in the chair, as if in protest, but then
smiled faintly. "I guess I set you up for that one, didn't I?"

"I guess you did," Diana said comfortably. "But
you'll be minding Lark, which might turn out to be an adventure, so don't think
you're getting off easy."

"Ah, Lark's a good baby, easy to deal with. All
right," Mary said, pushing herself forward in the chair to take Lark from
Diana. "All the food is in the refrigerator, anyway. Except for what
Carl's cooking. Just has to be put together." She sighed. "Why does
the very idea make me tired?"

Diana studied everything in the refrigerator for a few
moments before taking a soda with her outside. The rest could wait a few more
minutes, until the meat was done. Standing at the top of the couple of steps
leading into the yard, she wanted to retreat, to ask Mary what she thought
about this guy Zack, to ask her advice, to avoid a confrontation with him. Diana,
who had always felt sure about everything, wasn't sure about Zack.