What was Brian planning? It was his first day back at work, and he’d called to say he’d be a little later than usual, then asked if she had any plans for the evening.
She’d told him no, and he’d said, “Great!” then hurried off the phone.
Her mind kept crunching possibilities. Did he have a date? Was he going home with someone to get a quick one in before coming home? It wasn’t like he had a whole lot of other time to take care of certain needs.
The thought sent jealousy burning through her, but she kept reminding herself she had no claim on him; they’d agreed to keep things professional, so he was free to squeeze in a quickie.
Or maybe he’d changed his mind about the bassinet—maybe he was stopping for baby supplies.
Yeah, that’s probably it, she thought, relieved. We’re pretty stocked up on diapers, so he’s probably ready to pick out his own car seat or something.
She was not prepared for what actually came through the door at around seven p.m. Brian’s face was bright with a wide smile, and he was holding a bouquet of flowers and some grocery bags.
“These are for you,” he said, holding the mix of yellow, purple, and red out to her.
It was such a cheery, beautiful bouquet, and though it screamed friend or family, Karen warmed all over as her heartbeats sped up. “Thank you,” she said, relieving him of the flowers.
“I just wanted to say thank you for what you’ve done for me so far, so I got those, and these.” He held up the grocery bags. “I’m making dinner tonight. For you. For us.”
“It’s all very sweet, but you’re already paying me...”
“Please, let me—it’s the least I can do. A salary isn’t quite enough to express my gratitude for what you’ve done for my daughter and me over the past week or so. Plus, what you’ve signed on to do for the next month. I guess I also wanted to commemorate this next phase of ours, so let me cook for you, woman.”
“No more protest here. I can’t wait to see this.”
All week, she’d been practically living in his home, he was so unwilling to be left alone with the newborn.
This meant popping over to her place every now and then to grab a bite, even though he’d told her she was free to use whatever he had.
She was amazed to realize that over all the time they’d spent together—bathing the baby, changing her diapers, feeding time—the two of them had never had a single meal together.
They’d pretty much taken turns eating and sleeping, and she’d never slept over at his place beyond a daytime nap.
“Of course, since I wanted it to be a surprise, I couldn’t ask for your preferences. I don’t know if you’re vegan or vegetarian or on paleo…”
“I eat just about everything,” she said with a grin.
“Great! How does roasted chicken, asparagus, and potatoes sound?”
“Sounds wonderful. Although I feel bad sitting at the dinner table with a bit of dried puke on my shirt.”
He laughed. “You can always change into one of mine if you’d prefer.”
She ignored the surge of warmth in her cheeks. “No, I just...I hadn’t expected to spend extra time here—I was gonna leave right away, as usual, hop in a warm bath, etc. It’s not the first time some puke got on my top.”
“Well, luckily, I can’t smell it. Although, if you want to take off and grab a shower, feel free—everything should be ready in about twenty minutes or so.”
“Wow, that’s quick.”
“I like simple, quick recipes. I’m no chef.”
She grinned at him. “Be back in fifteen,” she said as she headed for the door.
Karen did a little more than take a quick, warm shower and change her clothes, lathering on scented lotion and touching up her hair plus sprucing up her face a bit before heading back to Brian’s.
“Right in time,” he said as he finished setting up the dishes and food on the table.
“Smells so good.” Her stomach rumbled, and she avoided Brian’s eyes.
“You’re not embarrassed, are you? It literally happens to everyone. And boy, have I heard and seen a whole lot worse this past week. I’m not testing my kid with food she’s not ready for again.”
“Oh my god, what did you give her?”
“Just a bit of apple juice!”
She shook her head at him. “Well, at least you learned,” she said as she sat down. “By the way, how’s the naming coming along?”
“I’ve been tossing about a few possibilities. What do you think of Angel? Too corny?” he said, even though she hadn’t said anything, but her face had, no doubt, spoken for her.
“I’m not sure I should have any sort of say here,” she said humbly.
“I want your opinion, Karen—yours is the only one that matters. Your reaction will help me decide, especially if what lights you up coincides with my favorites. Okay, so there’s Brianna—don’t roll your eyes!—Delilah, Sophia, Ellen, Isabelle—aha! You like that one—don’t try to deny it. That’s one of my top picks too. I was just messing with you with some of the other ones.”
“I mean, seriously. Delilah?”
“Wait, that was one I actually liked,” he said with a grin she couldn’t interpret. “Anyway, her middle name’s gonna be after me, so she’ll be Isabelle Brianna Langdon.” He nodded his head, looking pleased. “Yeah, that sounds right. Come with me when I introduce her to her new name?”
“You bet,” she said with a warm smile.
They were almost through the meal when Denise-turned-Isabelle started crying. They looked at each other as if unsure whose turn it was. Then the most mortifying thing happened—Karen’s nipples started leaking milk.
“Oh no,” she said, glancing down at the growing wet spot.
“Wait, are you lactating?” Brian asked, looking puzzled.
“It...happens...” she managed to say, but Brian was getting up.
“To be continued,” he said. “I gotta go grab her.”
He returned a minute later, holding a now-quiet Isabelle Brianna Langdon.
“Guess she missed me,” he said, smiling down at his tiny daughter, his grin widening at her answering coo.
“Maybe she was protesting her middle name,” Karen mumbled, causing Brian to send her a fake admonishing look, his mouth tilted in a half-smile.
Then he looked down at her chest, reminding her of her wet spots.
“You know what, I’m mostly upset about messing up another shirt,” she said casually as she got up from the table. “I’ll clear these away and then head out. Thanks for dinner!” she said.
“Where’s the fire?” he said with slight alarm.
“Look, we can talk about this stuff later. Deal? See you in the a.m.!”
“See you in the a.m.,” he replied quietly as she rushed out.
One month later…
“She’ll be six weeks by Halloween—is that too early to put her in a costume?” Brian joked as they got ready to eat the second dinner he’d prepared for the two of them—this time, to commemorate the one-month of extension she’d agreed to when her original contract term was coming to an end.
“You know it isn’t. But who’d get to appreciate the sight besides the two of us?”
“I figure it’d be a great addition to her photo book—First Year With Baby or something.”
“What do you have in mind? And please don’t say a bee...”
“But who can resist a bay-bee...”
Karen groaned and rolled her eyes. “Nice head-start on the dad jokes.”
He grinned at her.
“The three of us can…” She caught herself. “I mean, the two of you can dress up as...I don’t know...a bear and a honeycomb or something. A dog and his puppy...”
“Really? But my idea was goofy.”
“Get used to goofy, Papa Bear.”
“And anyway, I don’t want to dress up—I just want to see her in some dumb costume. All the other parents are doing it.”
Karen laughed.
“You know, you never updated me about the breast milk thing—what gives?” he asked.
She took a breath. “My body hasn’t completely accepted that there’s no longer a baby around. And maybe it’s confused because there is a baby around? I don’t know—bottom line is, that wasn’t the first time, and it might not be the last time. And no, I can’t breastfeed your kid...”
“I wasn’t going to ask that—I’m still pretty weirded out by the idea that she’s drinking donated breast milk. To change the subject, what are your plans for Thanksgiving? Will you be celebrating in any way? I mean, obviously, I don’t expect you to work that day.”
“Oh! None. I guess I was going to maybe pick up a turkey sandwich and a pumpkin pie and watch some Netflix or something.”
“Good thing I’m here for the rescue! Listen, I’m not one to celebrate holidays myself—in fact, if Isabelle hadn’t shown up, my Thanksgiving would’ve been even sadder than yours—closed up in my home office, still working on something or other. But now that we’re both sort of around and have this thing where we’re working around the clock to keep this tiny human alive and clean and fed…how about we have dinner together? That is, if you’re sure you’re not doing anything.”
Karen couldn’t stop her amused grin and just hoped he didn’t see it as her laughing at him. His bumbling invitation was adorable.
“I don’t mean it like a date, or whatever—I just figured there was no reason we should both sit home alone. We’re right next door to each other, we’re a team in a way…What do you say?”
She couldn’t think of a better way to spend Thanksgiving. “I’d love to hang out with you. It’s actually my favorite holiday, and it was really bumming me out to spend it alone this year. My mom, sister, and I always celebrated it together, and once we left home, my sister and I always came home from wherever we were so we could continue the tradition—with whoever my mom was seeing at the time. Even when I was seeing someone, I always opted to come home for Thanksgiving. And my sister never really had a serious… Sorry, yes. The answer is obviously yes.” She grinned nervously.
“Great! My place or yours?”
“How about we have it at my place? It’s so empty all the time—it’ll be nice to have company over, and since it looks like I’ll be cooking…”
“Awesome,” he said, and she slapped his arm lightly.
“What was that for?”
“You were supposed to say, ‘why assume that? In this modern, progressive world, perhaps I was about to volunteer to cook. Surely, you didn’t think I harbored some sexist notion that you, as a woman, would take care of it!’”
He shrugged. “Not a chance,” he said. “And seeing how well you do all the other girly things, it seemed only natural…”
She smacked his arm again playfully. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not exactly a big cook.”
“Oh, I didn’t expect you to make anything,” he said with a wide, teasing grin.
“So you were planning to make a big meal?”
“No, I just figured—and I’m glad we’re on the same page here—we can just go to the grocery store and pick up what we like, already made. They do a whole thing nowadays—we just grab a pre-seasoned turkey, some pre-made mashed potatoes...you get the picture. I saw a flyer where they’re offering a whole Thanksgiving meal for, like, fifty bucks. My treat, obviously.”
“Oh, I like that idea a lot. There is one thing I can make, though. I have a pretty sweet green bean recipe.”
“I’ll take your word on that and I’ll get the rest. That’s turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy… bread rolls?”
She nodded.
“Pumpkin pie?”
“Of course!”
“Cool. Anything else?”
“I think that’s plenty!”
“And we’ll have sweet, sweet leftovers, if you like that kind of stuff. I like the convenience—I’ll have turkey sandwiches for lunch and/or dinner for the next few days.”
“You know what? What the heck—I’ll bake a ham too. Probably pretty easy,” she said.
“Okay, now you’re spoiling me. That’s my favorite leftover to have with breakfast. Eggs and baked ham? The best.”
She giggled. “Okay, so it’s settled,” she said, becoming aware of a huge grin on her face.
She immediately felt guilty. No—no need to feel guilty. As Brian himself said, it wasn’t a date—just a pair of sort-of friends getting together for a holiday dinner.
It only makes sense since you two work together and live next door. Why wouldn’t you combine your powers and spend a totally innocent holiday together? Nothing more. And what an appropriate one too! Thanksgiving. You wouldn’t even have to spend it with him if Tamara had seen fit to be home as per tradition. But she’s out there, cavorting with any number of handsome strangers, and definitely not spending any time alone if she doesn’t want to. Why should she get to have all the fun? She can’t be so greedy…
“So how come you weren’t going to spend this year with your mom even though your sister’s not here?” Brian asked.
“She’s off and away too—honeymooning with her new husband in Hawaii! My sister actually paid for it…”
Oops. Was she saying too much? Did he know anything about Tamara winning the lottery?
She needed to watch herself—this guy managed to pry her open and tickle out all sorts of things she normally wouldn’t share—from the moment he got her to spill the beans about her miscarriage, she felt like she could tell him anything.
“Anyway, I’m pretty excited about it now,” he said. “I haven’t had a major sit-down meal in forever.”
“Did your family not celebrate?”
“Well, yeah, but I haven’t bothered to go back for Thanksgiving since leaving home; I only go for Christmas.”
“What did you do before I came into your life?” Karen asked, only half-serious.
“If I’m not working, I’m catching a game or binging a series on Netflix or grabbing a drink.”
“AKA picking up a woman.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. Haven’t ‘grabbed a drink’ in a while.”
A shiver traveled Karen’s spine, and she couldn’t look at him for a moment.
“I’ll also grab some wine or something for the Thanksgiving dinner, if you’ll drink with me?” he asked.
She nodded, still avoiding his eyes.
“Don’t get any ideas about taking advantage of me,” he said, making her laugh and dissipating the slight tension.