Kristine Rolofson – The Baby And The Bachelor (страница 2)

“I JUST DON’T KNOW WHERE the time goes,” Anna Gianetto muttered. She squinted at her watch. “Is it four-thirty or three-thirty?”

“Four-thirty,” Kim told her neighbor.

“Already? Ooh,” she said, fanning her ample bosom with a Providence Photography brochure. “I brought you too many things today.”

“It’s okay. My last appointment isn’t here yet.” Kim adjusted the array of children’s clothes so that the light was right and then, with Anna’s digital camera, took the picture.

“You do good work,” Pat O’Reilly said, patting Kim on the back while Anna retrieved the clothing. “You’re a good girl to do this for us.”

“I don’t mind,” she told them. She knew they were worried about her right now. Everyone was, which was more than a little disconcerting. Kim Cooper never liked being the center of attention.

“Well, you’re a good girl,” Patrick repeated.

“I know.” She winked at him. Her neighbors were like family since she’d known them almost all her life. Their venture into selling things on eBay, an online auction house, provided them with extra spending money and Kim with their company. They made her laugh, though her sister Kate thought Kim was a little bit crazy for hanging out with the elderly neighbors. “It’s a nice change from babies and cats and dogs.”

Patrick, a short, wiry man in his early eighties, shook one gnarled finger at her. “One of these days you’ll have your own babies, Kimmy, don’t you worry.”

“I’m not worried,” she promised. Two years ago, when Jeff broke off their engagement and said he “couldn’t commit,” she’d believed her family’s declarations that life held all sorts of wonderful surprises and all she had to do was stay cheerful. Recently she’d decided that maybe her life was simply going to be one long day after another. The men her sister had tried to fix her up with hadn’t been the least bit interesting—or maybe, to be fair, the men themselves weren’t interested in a nonglamorous version of her twin.

“You should get out more,” Anna said. “You spend too much time by yourself.”

“I will,” she promised, as she did every time her neighbors came to the studio. “I promise.”

“Robbie likes you,” Anna said. “He stops by from that gym of his sometimes, you know. ‘Aunt Anny,’ he says, ‘what am I doin’ wrong that Kim won’t marry me?”’

“I’m not in love with him, Anna.” Kim secretly thought Robbie, a competitive weight lifter, was more in love with his own body than wanting anything to do with hers. Anna, determined to take care of her young neighbor, had a legion of nephews she’d thought were “just right” for Kim.

“You could try harder. Women shouldn’t wait so long to get married these days,” Anna advised. She put the carefully folded clothing into a brown shopping bag. “That’s why they have trouble having babies, now. Their eggs are old. That’s not the way it was in our day. I got pregnant on our honeymoon.”

“Yeah,” Pat said. “Mary and I had our first boy when we were twenty.” He frowned, trying to remember. “Or maybe it was nineteen. My memory sure as heck isn’t what it used to be.”

“It’s too bad that things are different now,” Kim said, hoping her own eggs would give her a few more optimistic years before drying up. She was only twenty-six, not exactly middle-aged, so shouldn’t those little suckers be thriving? “Maybe I’m not the marrying kind.”

“Nonsense,” Pat said.

“Give me the old days,” Anna said. “When men were men.”

“And women were women,” Patrick added with a sigh. Kim often wished she could have seen what he looked like when he was younger. She suspected he’d been as handsome as sin and twice as charming. “No one even bakes anymore.”

“Hey,” Anna said. “You come by and I’ll make anise cookies for you.”

“Me, too?” Kim had a weakness for her neighbor’s Italian specialty.

“Sure, honey. We’ll have ourselves a little party,” Anna declared, satisfied that she had stuffed everything into her shopping bag.

“We’d better get out of here, Anna.” Pat jerked his thumb in the direction of the reception area. “Kimmy has real work to do now.”

They all looked toward the open door and heard a baby fussing and a low male voice trying to soothe—Kim searched her memory—Brianne Johnson.

“Hello?” the man called, sounding a little flustered. It was unusual for a father to arrive for a baby’s first photo. She hoped Brianne’s mother was out there, too, so the little girl would calm down.

“Coming!” Kim hurried over toward the door, a welcoming smile on her face. Her specialty was babies, while Kate did the glamour shots and more artistic projects. And this baby, she saw, was especially gorgeous. She had dark curling hair and big brown eyes, and a dimple in her left cheek when she stopped fussing and smiled at Kim.

“How did you do that?” the father said, and that’s when Kim’s gaze lifted to the man’s face. His very familiar face. At first she didn’t think she believed what her brain was trying to tell her: Stuart Thorpe was standing eight feet away.

“Do that?” she echoed, her mind blank except for one thought: Stuart Thorpe was holding a baby.

“Kim?” he said, his beautiful mouth turning into a smile. “Kim Cooper?”

“Yes,” she managed to gulp. He would never in a thousand lifetimes mistake her for her twin, of course. No one ever had, not since they were in elementary school. She made an attempt to brush her hair back with her hand and then gave up. Stuart Thorpe still wouldn’t notice her unless she was blond, busty and running her hands over his chest—none of which was likely.

“It’s been a long time,” Stuart said, adjusting his grip on the baby so she wouldn’t wriggle out of his arms.

“Years,” she agreed. He looked as handsome as ever, she noted with some disappointment. He hadn’t lost any of that thick dark hair. He hadn’t gotten fat. He still looked good in anything he wore, even a rumpled polo shirt and shorts that looked as if Brianne had spilled six or seven spoonfuls of baby food on them.

“Five or six years, at least,” he repeated, looking dazed. “How are you? And your sister Kate?”

“We’re both fine.”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Stuart said, which wasn’t the most flattering thing he could say. Kim knew she had been an awkward, innocent and terribly shy art student with a passion for photography and a secret crush on a young doctor in the apartment downstairs. And she hadn’t changed much either, obviously.

“So,” she said, trying to regain some resemblance of professionalism. “Let’s get Brianne settled in the studio so that she’s comfortable. Your wife said she wanted an assortment of pictures to choose from and—”

“Oh,” he said, following her into the next room where Anna and Patrick waited, transfixed with curiosity. “That wasn’t my wife. You talked to—”

“What a beautiful baby,” Anna interrupted, holding out her arms. Brianne, obviously sensing a more comfortable chest to snuggle against, went willingly into Anna’s embrace as the plump woman settled herself on Kim’s leather sofa.

“Thanks,” Stuart said. “She takes after my side of the family, I think.”

So he wasn’t married to the baby’s mother. Divorced? Kim eyed the baby, who wasn’t more than five or six months old. No. It was more likely that Stuart and Brianne’s mother had never married. No surprise there. Stuart Thorpe attracted women like her twin sister attracted men.

It was a gift.

“Mrs. Gianetto, this is Stuart Thorpe, an old friend. Stuart, this is Anna Gianetto and Patrick O’Reilly, my neighbors.”

Patrick frowned at the younger man, but he stepped forward to shake Stuart’s offered hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said, not sounding as if he meant it. “You know our Kim, huh?”

“Yes.”

“She’s a nice girl,” the old man declared. “A good girl.”

“Stuart,” Kim said quickly. “I heard that you’re a heart surgeon now.”

“Uh, yes—” he stopped, watching his baby. “Uh, Mrs.—”

“Gianetto,” Kim supplied, watching Anna cradle the child.

“Mrs. Gianetto,” Stuart tried again. “If you hold her like that she’ll think she’s going to get fed and then I’m afraid she’ll—”

Scream.

Kim winced. Brianne’s wail of frustration bounced off the ivory walls of the studio and effectively stopped conversation. Patrick winced and reached for his hearing aid.

“Mamma mia,” Anna exhaled. “This one has a temper like my first husband.” She lifted the little girl and aimed her toward Stuart.

“She takes after her mother,” he said, looking amused as he took the baby back into his arms. His smile faded as Brianne’s wails escalated.

“Where is her mother?” Kim asked.

“In Maine,” he shouted. “Family emergency!”

“Maybe it would be better if you waited until her mother returns,” Kim suggested. “Your little girl might be in a better mood for her pictures then.”

“I’ll catch hell for messing this up,” he muttered, awkwardly patting the baby’s back. “Can’t you do something? Some photographer tricks?”

“Give her to me.” She held out her arms and Stuart quickly handed over the baby. Brianne let out one more complaint and then stared at Kim as if she was trying to decide whether to scream again or not.

Patrick glared at Stuart again. “That baby of yours doesn’t seem to like her daddy very much.”

Stuart ignored him and looked at Kim. “Can you do anything with her? There are some extra clothes in her bag, I think, if we need them. And her blanket.”