Page 17 of This Baby Business
I’d always loved this part of fashion. Seeing something in a brand-new light. Satin and denim…leather and lace. I had no doubt it was what I’d be doing right now if I had a choice. I could do it all right here from my sewing machine. One thing for sure—I didn’t want to run RockYourBaby.com. That was my mother’s dream, and I couldn’t hang on much longer.
Finally, I finished and forced myself away from my sewing machine to trudge to the computer screen. I leafed through the baby bible for almost an hour but found nothing inspiring to give to my readers. Nothing to turn their boring, mundane lives into something interesting, or even to remind them that what they were doing was important. I imagined that when it came down to it, raising a baby was all about routine and not much about fun.
What was that saying about a picture being worth a thousand words? A thousand words were really all I needed for this post. Grabbing my high-resolution camera, I took photos of the baby outfit I’d just sewed together. Not bad. I downloaded them to my laptop, and uploaded them to my blog. It looked okay, frankly, even without any words. I hit Publish.
Grace wailed, awake from her nap. When I reached the crib, Grace had rolled over on to her stomach from her back. What’s more, she looked immensely pleased with herself, her chubby little legs kicking.
“Daahh…dah,” Grace said, then blew a raspberry. “Bff.”
At least I had the diaper changing routine down. It hadn’t taken long to figure out as it was not exactly rocket science. I’d done my share of babysitting younger cousins years ago. And some baby care, I had come to realize, was so routine that it could be a little mind-numbing at times.
Maybe we needed a change of scenery. I could take Grace for a walk. Not exciting, but at least it got me outside the house after months of nearly hibernating. Jill and Zoey, my two best friends, had tried to get me to go out more, but I hadn’t much wanted to go out and celebrate being young and alive when I’d still been grieving.
But today, I needed a diversion. I rummaged through my closet and pulled out my distressed short overalls. I rolled them up at the hem up to my thighs and paired them with a white T-shirt and my broken-in flat brown leather boots. A long-brimmed black fedora completed the look.
“There.” I felt like a new woman, or more like my old self.
I then spent the next two hours taking Grace for a stroll around the neighborhood and to the nearby park in the lightweight umbrella stroller rated as the most portable and functional byBaby Today. They were the standard in the industry, and I hoped they would consider buying RockYourBaby for top dollar. Time was running out.
Last night, I’d checked in with Kirk and asked to speak with Dad.
“He’s having a bad day,” Kirk had warned.
That was always code for “He’s not talking to anyone and being a pain in the butt. He won’t do his exercises.”
“I’ll try back tomorrow.”
Mom’s death had hit them all hard, sure, but none harder than my father. He regularly fought with the therapists who were trying to get him to rehabilitate his hip and wasn’t the man I remembered anymore. He’d always been my biggest supporter. My protector. When I had wanted to go New York City and study design, instead of something far more practical, as mom had suggested, it was Daddy who had supported my decision. He’d smoothed things out with Mom. And he’d smoothed again, double time, when I had returned from the Big Apple a big fat failure.
Grace squealed. She seemed happiest outside, distracted by the outdoors. Entranced by flowers, trees, dogs and children playing. I stopped to pull out my phone and take several photos of her. She was a cute baby. Long dark lashes and blue-gray eyes. Toothless smile. Maybe I could ask Levi for permission to use Grace as a baby model for the website. Holy cow, I was totally rocking the great ideas today. I could dress Grace up in cute outfits I created and post photos of her on the blog. Another way to avoid actual words.
Grace fell asleep on the way home, and she was still asleep when five thirty rolled around and Levi pulled up outside. A person could set a clock by the dude.
I met him at the door. “She’s still sleeping. Want to come in and wait?”
“Yeah.” He stepped inside. “Might as well let her sleep.”
How exactly did he manage to look like sex on a stick at the end of a long day? He had this whole bad boy look going on, late-afternoon scruffiness over his jawline, making me want to rub against him like a cat.
Bad, bad Carly.“I wanted to talk to you about something anyway.”
“Oh, yeah. I haven’t had a whole lot of luck finding another sitter. I’ll make a few calls tonight.” He followed me into the family room.
“That’s not it. I need a favor.”
“Done.”
“You don’t even know what it is yet.”
He gave me an easy smile. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Be careful, Levi Lambert. You never know what I might ask.”
“Bring it on.” His eyes filled with obvious male appreciation.
The look he slid me was so full of heat that I thought my panties might spontaneously burst into flames.Focus, Carly, focus.
“I want to put photos of Grace on my website. I took some cute ones today.” I took my phone out and showed them to him. Shots of Grace staring with delight at a tree as if she’d just discovered them. Smiling as she watched a child playing ball, staring wide-eyed at a woman walking her poodle down the street.
