CHAPTER TWO

      “HE’S NOT VERY pleasant at times,” Del said to Charlie as she gave him his nightly bath. “On the verge of rude and insulting. Then he calls and apologizes. Like what’s that all about?” Although he did exude a general sexiness about him, which was nothing she was going to admit out loud. Even when brooding he was sexy and she wondered, for a moment, what kind of social life he had going for himself. “It’s none of my business,” she told Charlie. “And I want you to point that out to me every time I have a straying thought about the man. OK? He’s handsome and has the ability to be charming, but that’s as much as I want to notice.”

      The baby’s response was to splash around in the water and giggle.

      “I’m not sure why my partners would have chosen him, except for the fact that he’s a good doctor, but that was their decision, not mine. And his credentials are good. At least he’s licensed here in Chicago, which saved a little bit of hassle. But that attitude...I’ve got to tell you, Charlie, you’re not going to grow up to be a man like he is, who goes back and forth. I’ll swear by all that I know as a doctor and what I’m learning as a mother that you’re going to have manners and respect.” Yeah, until he was an adult; then he could do anything he wanted, which scared her because somewhere there was probably a mother who’d said the same thing to her baby Simon. And look at the way he’d turned out. “I suppose a mother can only do so much,” she said as she pulled Charlie out of the baby bath and wrapped him in a towel. “But I’m going to teach you anyway and keep my fingers crossed I don’t go wrong somewhere.” Not to imply that Simon’s mother had gone wrong. Because Simon did have manners and just a touch of arrogance to offset them.

      “Now, let’s get you dressed and I’ll read you a story. How about the one with the giraffe, tonight?” Sure, it was all in her mind but she thought that was Charlie’s favorite story. Of course, any story might have been his favorite, as he seemed delighted by everything she read him, including pages from a medical journal she’d read aloud to him one evening when she was trying to catch up on her own reading. It was the mother-child bond that mattered, the one she’d missed all day today while she’d been at work.

      But on the other hand, work had had its number of fulfilling moments, too, and it was good getting back. She was still plagued with guilty feelings, though. Those weren’t going to go away, and she could foresee the time when the conflicts would become even greater, such as when Charlie learned to walk, or started talking. She didn’t want to miss those things, but it was conceivable he might say his first word to Mrs. Rogers or take his first step when she wasn’t around to see it. Sacrifices. Yes, there were definite sacrifices to be made, and she could feel them tugging at her heart. But she was still drawn to being a pediatrician, and while she felt guilty about working she felt no guilt at all about the work she did. It would have been nice, though, to have that proverbial cake and eat it, too.

      Well, that wasn’t going to happen. She had a child to support now and her savings, while sufficient, weren’t enough to carry her through until he went to college. So off to work, get over the guilt. She supposed in time it would lessen, but her preference would always be to be there for her son.

      “Once upon a time, there was a giraffe named George, who was shorter than all the other giraffes in the jungle. ‘Why can’t I be tall like my mother?’ he asked.” This is where Del tickled Charlie’s tummy with a stuffed giraffe. “‘Why can’t I be tall like my daddy?’” She tickled Charlie’s tummy again and took such delight in watching him laugh and reach out to hold his giraffe. “‘Why can’t I be tall like my brother...?’” And so the story went, until Charlie usually wore himself out and went to sleep. Which was the case tonight. He dozed off before the end of the story, clinging to his stuffed giraffe, and she tucked him into his crib, crept out and made sure the night-light was on for when he woke up later as she hated the idea of her child waking up in total darkness and being afraid.

      Afterward, Del fixed herself a cup of hot tea and settled down on the couch to catch up on some reading, but she was distracted by her cellphone, which she’d set to vibrate now that Charlie was down. She’d been awfully rude to Simon and for no reason other than Charlie couldn’t wait a minute or two—which he could have since he hadn’t been crying for her. She’d set a bad example for Charlie even if he was too young to understand that. But there would come a time when he would and she dreaded that day. So in the end, she picked up her phone and made that call.

      “Simon,” she said when he answered. “This is Del.”

      “Let me guess. You want me to go in tonight.”

      “You caught me at a bad time earlier,” she said.

      “Apparently.”

      “Look, I had just got my baby to calm down and go to sleep after his first day away from me, and you disturbed him. You’re not a parent, so you wouldn’t understand,” she said.

      “No, I’m not a parent,” he answered, then sighed so loud into the phone she heard it.

      “Well, you couldn’t understand what I’m talking about, but I like my evenings undisturbed.”

      “Which is why you’ve begged off call for the next six months.”

      “It was a compromise. Originally I was going to take off a whole year to stay home with Charlie, but that didn’t work out so I decided to come back during the days so long as I have my evenings and nights to myself.”

      “Not that it’s any of my business.”

      “Look, Simon. I called to apologize for being so rude. We got off to a bad start and when you called to apologize I wasn’t in the frame of mind to deal with it.”

      “Guilty-mother syndrome?”

      “Something like that.”

      “I understand children, Del, but I don’t even pretend to understand their parents.”

      “You would if you were a parent.”

      “Well, thank God I’m not. My marriage was hell and it makes me queasy thinking we could have easily brought a child into it.”

      “So you’re divorced.”

      “Blessedly so.”

      “Sorry it didn’t work out. Is that why you hate women?”

      “Who says I hate women?”

      “Your scowl, every time I looked at you today.”

      “Well, I don’t hate women. I’m just...wary.”

      “Sorry you feel that way. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I’m sorry I was abrupt with you on the phone earlier. Normally I silence my phone so I won’t be disturbed, and people who know me know when to call and when not to call.”

      “I didn’t get the memo,” he said.

      “Then I’ll make it simple. Evenings are my time unless it’s an emergency. That’s the memo.” He was impossible and she was already dreading working with him. But what was done was done. He was hired, the partners were happy with him and he was a hard worker. Everyone in the office shouted his praises, so it had to be her. He rubbed her the wrong way, or the other way around. Anyway, her feelings for the man were no reason to give him grief, so before she hung up the phone she made a silent vow to tolerate him in the office. If he did his job and she did hers there’d hardly be any time to socialize anyway.

      “So, as I was saying, I’m sorry for being so abrupt and it won’t happen again.”

      “Let’s call it a professional