Not Quite Perfect
Page 72

Mary moved from the couch to a spread out baby blanket on the floor and lay beside Leo, entertained by his smile. Colorful toys surrounded them, some played music, others flashed lights, two did both.
Thirty minutes after Dakota and Walt had left, her phone rang.
She found her phone in her purse and answered it without looking at who was calling. “We’re fine!”
“We? Who are we?” The sound of Glen’s voice made her heart skip.
She sat down next to Leo and continued to dangle a soft toy out of his reach.
“You found me out, Glen. I have another man in my life.” She wiggled her nose at Leo. “Don’t I?” she said in a high-pitched voice.
Glen laughed. “So Dakota finally caved.”
“I thought for sure you were her calling.”
“How is babysitting time?”
“Leo and I are just hanging . . . waiting for the pizza and beer delivery.”
“I don’t think he’s on solid food yet.”
“The pizza’s for me . . . Leo has a hankering for something other than milk.”
“It sounds like you’re having fun.”
“Leo’s a really good listener, and I have lots to talk about.” She had him giggling with a swish of her hair. “How was the flight?”
“Uneventful. I like flying with Jason. We don’t get enough time together.”
“I’d imagine he’s a captive audience in a cockpit,” she said.
“I think that’s part of the appeal for this trip. That and the fact that our London affiliates need to see our faces more than once a year.”
They talked about how often he went to London.
She told him she’d never been.
He told her he’d take her there soon . . . that she’d better update her passport.
To which she let him know she didn’t have one.
And then Leo became a little upset that he wasn’t the center of Mary’s attention.
“I should let you go,” Glen decided.
“I think there is diaper duty in my immediate future.”
“And as awful as that sounds, I still wish I was there with you.”
“Careful what you ask for. Next time you’re changing diapers and I’ll order the pizza.”
“You’re on!”
Leo offered a louder protest. “I’m being summoned.”
“Go. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
He hung up without saying good-bye.
Mary couldn’t be happier.
She set her phone to the side and picked Leo up. “Just you and me, bud.”
He kept lifting his head from her shoulder as she walked up the stairs to the nursery to change his diaper.
Her first time at the plate, and Leo was good to her.
She sat in the glider with him on her shoulder after the task and rocked his sleepy eyes to rest.
Mary let him sleep on her for quite some time. The rise and fall of his little chest put a flutter in her belly she never thought she’d have. She couldn’t help but wonder if her own mother had ever held her, ever thought about the tiny heart with its rapid beat inside her chest. Did her own father wish to change her diaper instead of being away on business?
Stupid thought. The chances of her biological parents ever being away on business was slim to none. Kids not ready for kids was a more likely scenario.
Her thoughts moved directly to Glen. He’d had such a different life, loving parents, stable home. Yet they were both just now entering a committed relationship for the first time.
Mary lifted Leo into his crib and watched him sleep.
It wasn’t until she saw lights from a car outside that she walked toward the window overlooking the street below.
A dark sedan slowed to nearly a stop in front of the house. Mary wondered if it was an unmarked police car, something Officer Taylor said to expect. It didn’t stick around long before it drove away.
Mary crept out of Leo’s room thinking of how lucky she was to have what she did.
Mary found her phone and sent a quick text to Dakota. Leo is asleep and everything is fine. Enjoy your evening.
A smiley face was Dakota’s reply.
Glen talked to Mary every day, texted her constantly . . . and yet he still missed her.
Their winter trip to London hadn’t happened, so this one was longer than normal. Jason and Glen were due to fly back on Wednesday, and it was only Sunday.
Jet lag alone kept them a half a step behind for two days.
“Did Dakota survive a few hours away last night?” Glen called Mary as early as he could without waking her up. He’d just come off an afternoon lawn party that took place in tents because of the London rain. He had an hour to shower and change for the next round of shoulder rubbing on his Sunday.
“Two hours and twenty minutes . . . and yes. It was good for them. I saw it in their faces when they walked in the door.”
“I would imagine the first time is the hardest, and after that it gets easier.”
“I hope so, or she’ll be sitting on a therapy couch in ten years asking what happened to her own identity . . . how did she become just a mom.”
“What’s on your agenda today?” Glen liked the idea of picturing what Mary was doing. It made the distance more tolerable somehow.
“Furniture shopping. There are a few wholesale warehouses in the valley I’m going to check out.”
His mind flashed to the week of all the chaos. The first thing that needed to be replaced was her mattress. Glen didn’t consider himself a shopper, but hopping from one mattress to the other with Mary by his side changed his mind. “Make sure there’s a comfortable armrest on the couch,” he told her.