Underfoot. Leanne Banks
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blinked at the insult. She should have seen it coming. The way Dora pulled a knife out in her sweetest tone reminded Trina of her mother. She took a deep breath. “Dora, trust me. I couldn’t be less interested in getting Walker Gordon’s attention.”
Dora fell silent and stared at Trina for a long moment. She narrowed her eyes. “You know something. What’s wrong with him?”
Gross miscalculation to reassure Dora of her lack of interest in Walker. Her second or third miscalculation of the day.
Trina spent the rest of the day unsuccessfully dodging Dora’s questions.
“Does he have a mental condition? Is he a secret sicko?” Dora asked an hour later.
“Not to my knowledge,” Trina said and left for a meeting.
When she returned, Dora followed her into her office. “Is he emotionally or physically abusive?”
“No,” Trina said in horror. “At least, I haven’t heard that he is.”
Dora sighed in obvious frustration. “Then maybe it’s something super personal.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Does he have a forked—” She stopped. “You know. Down there?”
“A forked wha—” She broke off as realization hit. “Absolutely not,” she said, then quickly added, “Not from what I’ve heard.”
Dora frowned. “Then why don’t you want him? He’s gorgeous. He’s loaded. He’s smart.”
“It’s probably hormonal,” Trina manufactured. “Since I had Maddie, I’m not interested in anyone. I’m much more interested in a good night’s sleep.”
“Oh,” Dora said with a nod of sympathy. “And that’s probably why you’ve let yourself go.”
Trina blinked. She should have seen that insult coming. Counting to ten, she gritted her teeth. “How kind of you to notice.”
Dora’s eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just obvious you’re not putting a lot of effort into your appearance. I could help you if you’d like.”
“That’s okay, Dora. What I’d like is for you to print the press releases for Jenny Prillaman’s new designs along with the accompanying letters. I’d like to give them a quick once-over before they’re sent out. Thanks,” she said in a dismissive tone.
Trina took her quick lunch break at the company day-care center. Due to a bumper crop of pregnancies and babies, Bellagio had joined with another company close by to provide service for the children of their employees.
After going through three nannies, Trina had brought Maddie to the day-care center with a few reservations. She preferred one-on-one care for her daughter and also worried about infections, but she loved the proximity and the convenience of visiting Maddie when she could squeeze in a break during her workday.
She walked into the room for babies where her six-month-old daughter was being fed oatmeal by an assistant teacher. “How has she been today?”
“Sweet, but active. I think she may be an early crawler. Good luck,” the teacher said with a rueful smile.
Just then, Maddie glanced up and caught sight of Trina. She let out an earsplitting shriek and banged her fists on her high chair.
“Looks like she’s happy to see you,” the teacher said.
A thrill shot through Trina. Her child’s adoration for her never failed to give her heart a squeeze. “How’s my little carrot cake?”
Maddie gave a wide oatmeal-lined smile and Trina walked over to take over the feeding duty. She brushed a kiss over her daughter’s soft head where her carrot-red topknot tilted to the right.
“And how has your day been?” Trina asked Maddie as she lifted the spoon to her daughter’s rosebud mouth.
Maddie swallowed the oatmeal and made a gurgling sound and other sounds in an unintelligible language as if she were making conversation.
“Gramma Aubrey would not approve of talking with your mouth full, but we’ll wait on that one. Okay?” Trina said with a nod.
Maddie nodded and opened her mouth for another bite. Trina finished feeding Maddie then cleaned her face and hands despite her baby’s protests.
After changing her diaper, Trina carried Maddie to a rocking chair in a quiet corner of the room and began to rock. After a morning that had shaken every nerve in her body, the weight of her little daughter in her arms felt so reassuring.
As Maddie relaxed, Trina felt her own heart rate and her breathing slow. The muscles in the back of her neck loosened. She would have never predicted it, but in her arms, Trina felt as if she were holding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
When she’d first learned she was pregnant, she’d panicked and considered terminating the pregnancy. She wasn’t in a position to be a mother. Her apartment was too small. She didn’t have a husband. Plus she had a mother who would die if her daughter became an unwed mother. Aside from that, Trina had plans that didn’t include children until, if, or when she should get married. And there was the fact that Trina had no mommy skills. Heck, she hadn’t even done much babysitting during her teen years. What did people do with babies anyway? They seemed like little savages that cried and peed and cried and pooped and cried and ate and cried some more.
So the obvious choice had been to call the doctor to do the deed and not be pregnant anymore. She’d made a mental note to call the doctor to make an appointment tomorrow, but she’d been too busy that day. And the next tomorrow, she’d felt creepy about calling, which was hormonal, she was certain. So she told herself she would call when she didn’t feel creepy about it, when she felt confident and sure and had no regrets.
That tomorrow had never arrived.
She’d hid her pregnancy reasonably well until her sixth month when her abdomen had sprouted outward. She’d avoided face-to-face contact with her mother by claiming business was taking her out of town. Lord knew, her mother could smell weight gain of anything over a pound.
People at work had reacted with surprise and curiosity. Trina had reacted as if it were perfectly normal for her to be pregnant. Pretty soon, the questions died down.
Her mother, however, had gone into a hysterical frenzy that had required heavy doses of sedatives. She’d locked herself in her bedroom for a solid week.
Trina had secretly hoped she would stay locked up longer, say a year. Or two.
Trina glanced down at Maddie, asleep on her lap. Her dark eyelashes stood out against her fair complexion. Trina had fallen in love with her daughter at first sight. What she didn’t know about child rearing could fill a library, but she understood a few things about what her daughter needed. Love, food, sunshine, a bath, sleep and her mother.
Trina figured she would learn what she needed to know along the way. Lifting Maddie against her chest, she carried her to the crib marked with her name and laid her down, her heart full at the sight of her baby.
Waving to the teachers, she left to return to her office.
DESPITE TRINA’S BEST EFFORTS, Dora continued her inquisition about Walker throughout the afternoon. Every mention of his name shredded her nerves even more. Bamboo sticks under her fingernails or water torture would have been easier to bear.
Promising herself she would buy Lean Cuisine the next time she got to the grocery store, Trina picked up Maddie and grabbed a take-out sandwich through a drive-thru while Maddie sang in her car seat in the back seat.
Before she arrived at her town house, she smelled a distinctive scent that told her the first thing she would be doing when she got inside would be changing Maddie’s diaper.
Grabbing Maddie’s bag and her carryout sandwich, she walked inside, dumped both bags in the foyer and immediately headed for