The Baby Came C.O.D.. Marie FerrarellaЧитать онлайн книгу.
He set down the baby seat on the table beside the box and lost no time in initiating his retreat.
Only to be stopped in his tracks.
“Not so fast, Evan.”
Now what did she want? “But I—”
“—need a demonstration.” She wasn’t about to let him fast-talk his way out of this.
Evan stared at her. Communication between them had just ground to a standstill. “Of what?”
He was either very dense or very stubborn. Or both. She opted for the last choice. “Of how to change the baby.”
What made her think he wanted a demonstration? “I don’t have time for this.”
If he wanted to play it that way, so could she. “All right, then I don’t have time to watch her.” Picking up the seat, she presented it to Evan. “Sorry. Those are my terms.”
Maybe it was the smell, but his brain was definitely in a fog. He had no idea what she Was talking about. “What are your terms?”
Claire grinned. She heard surrender in his voice. In the face of that, she could afford to be magnanimous.
“I’m making them up as I go along.” Setting the seat down again, she undid the straps restraining Rachel, then lifted her out. Gingerly, Claire tucked her arm around the baby, who was soaked. “But I really want you to try your hand at changing the baby.”
He remained rooted to the spot. There was no way he was about to touch that. “Into what?”
Claire gave him a look. “Into dry diapers.”
“You mean open up that—?” There was horror written all over his face. He’d sooner put up with a first-class, intensified audit than attempt to remove Rachel’s very heavy diaper.
Libby erupted into a fit of giggles, not bothering to cover her mouth this time. The sound was infectious, and Claire found it difficult not to join in. And impossible to keep the smile from her lips.
Gently, she laid Rachel down in the center of the blanket and slipped off the soggy pajama bottoms. “That is exactly what I mean. You obviously don’t know how, and there’s no time like the present to learn.”
Was she out of her mind? “Why would I want to learn?”
Claire dropped the pajama bottoms in a little heap on the blanket and looked at him. She answered patiently, speaking to him as if she were trying to make a child understand something that was just beyond his reach.
“I have a little news flash for you—the number of times you change a baby is disproportionate to its size.” She considered that for a moment. Math had never been her strong suit. “Or maybe the inverse. At any rate, the smaller they are, the more they need to be changed. And at this stage of her life, Rachel is going to need a lot of changing.”
All right, he understood that part of it. But why did he have to learn how to do it? “But you’re going to be—”
“Helping out,” Claire supplied, and squashed any other belief he had been entertaining. “I don’t intend to be her permanent nanny. I have a business to run.”
“A business?” Evan echoed in disbelief. “You?”
It was a rare thing for Claire to get angry. She liked to think of herself as a reasonable and even-tempered woman. But she knew an insult when one was hovering in front of her.
“You say that as if you don’t believe that’s possible. Why?”
As if in reply, Evan glanced down at her long legs curled beneath her as she sat on the edge of the sofa, and at her clothes, which lovingly adhered to her body. Businesswoman wouldn’t have been the first label he would have pinned to her. Nor the second. She looked as if she would be more at home on the cover of a magazine than undertaking any sort of business venture.
But this wasn’t the time to get into that. “No reason.” And then he looked at his watch again. This was taking far longer than he had anticipated. He still had to go over his notes before he went into the meeting. “Look, I’m really pressed for time.”
“You keep saying that.” And it was obvious from her expression that she neither believed his protest nor was going to accept it. “Make time. She obviously must mean something to you or you wouldn’t have her.”
The leap from point A to point B seemed to have been made entirely without reason. Evan’s brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of it and failed. “What kind of logic is that?”
“Mine,” she informed him blithely. “Now, then, shall we?” Claire patted the blanket in an open invitation.
Not to be left out of the project, Libby demanded, “What can I do? What can I do?”
Wedging in between Evan and the baby on the sofa, Libby pranced from foot to foot as if the ground were too hot for her to stand on in any one place for more than a second.
Evan assumed that Claire would tell her daughter to stand aside and be quiet—that’s what he would have done. But Claire didn’t do what was expected. He had a feeling the statement covered a lot of territory.
“Get me some tissues, Lib. I don’t have any wipes,” she explained to Evan as if he even knew what those were. “So tissues are going to have to do in a pinch. And a washcloth,” she called out to her daughter. “Run some warm water over it, honey. And be sure to wring it out.”
Claire emphasized the last part, knowing if she didn’t, Libby was going to leave a trail of water all the way from the bathroom sink to the sofa.
Waiting, Claire cooed soft words at the baby that Evan could only half make out. But the tone was soothing. And it worked, he noticed. Rachel was calming down. Maybe this would work out after all, at least for now.
Claire stripped Rachel down to her diaper, then leaned back and gestured for Evan to take over. “All right, go ahead.”
Evan felt something sicken in his stomach. “Go ahead?” he repeated dumbly.
Why was he acting as if his brain level had suddenly been reduced to that of a potato?
“Change her,” Claire urged, moving aside for him to have clear access. “The grand opening awaits.”
He actually reached out one hand before he stopped. He just couldn’t go through with this, not for any amount of money in the world.
“I don’t—I’ve never—” He looked at her helplessly, falling back on the only thing he’d learned that worked. “How much do you want per diaper?”
“That’s pathetic,” she informed him. Then, with a tolerant sigh, Claire elbowed him out of the way. Evan was never so glad to move aside in his life. “Watch and learn,” she instructed, taking her place again.
Rachel began to kick, churning up the mess within, he guessed.
“Libby?” Claire called out expectantly.
The streak wearing pink overalls zipped back to her side, with a box of tissues in one hand and a slightly dripping washcloth in the other. “Here, Mama.”
Claire took them as solemnly as if she were receiving a knight’s sword and shield. She set both items on the table.
Evan forced himself to watch. He got as far as seeing Claire tear off the tabs on either side of the kicking chubby legs before he averted his eyes.
“Yuck!” Libby pronounced.
For once, Evan thought, the little girl was guilty of understatement.
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