4

      With Susie still very much on her mind, Carrie walked the few blocks to the house that had been converted into Noah’s medical offices on the ground floor. The upstairs had been turned into a cozy apartment for him, Cait and the baby. Once Cait was finished with her medical training and home for good, it would probably be much too small for a growing family, but for now Grandpa Mick had converted it into a warm, welcoming home. It was too bad, Carrie thought, that her twin was rarely here to enjoy it or her family.

      Carrie used her key to the side entrance to the offices and found Noah’s nurse, Wendy Kaine, already there, bustling around in the brightly painted examining rooms, getting ready for another busy day.

      “You here to pick up the little man?” Wendy asked with a grin as a wail carried all the way from upstairs. “Good luck. He seems to be expressing himself quite clearly today. He is not a happy little boy.”

      Carrie winced at the sound. Noah, who prided himself on soothing even his most difficult young patients, must be at his wit’s end about now. “I could hide out down here till his daddy gets him calmed down,” she whispered to Wendy.

      “Coward,” the nurse accused. “March right on up there and show the two of them who’s boss.”

      “Noah’s probably trying to make him eat more of that boring baby cereal again,” Carrie said. “Jackson really hates that stuff. I guess I should go up and save him.”

      “Him who? Jackson or Noah?” Wendy asked. “I’m sure the baby will appreciate it. Noah, too. I know I will.”

      Carrie hurried up the steps, tapped on the door to the living quarters—not that it could likely be heard over the baby’s noisy sobs—and went inside.

      Sure enough, Noah had a spoon in his hand, a frustrated expression on his face, and far more cereal on his shirt than could possibly be in the little boy who was waving his fists and had big, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.

      Jackson spotted Carrie and immediately held out his arms. A drooling smile lit up his face.

      She grinned at Noah, then passed him and picked up the eight-month-old. “That’s right, sweetie. Aunt Carrie is here to save you from having to eat that nasty old cereal.”

      Noah frowned at her. “You’ve been telling me he eats it for you.”

      She leaned closer, the baby clinging tightly to her. “Want to know my secret?”

      “Please,” he said, sounding a little desperate.

      “I mix in a little applesauce. He loves applesauce.”

      Noah closed his eyes. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

      “Because you probably never tasted the cereal yourself and had no idea how awful it is. I believe peaches were the fruit of choice for Cait and me. And in the interest of full disclosure, I didn’t dream this up on my own. Mom gave me the tip after I’d spent a week washing cereal out of my hair.”

      Noah laughed then. “I feel a whole lot better now.” His expression sobered. “You say this worked for you and Cait?”

      Carrie nodded.

      “Hmm. She never suggested it, either. I’m thinking my wife deliberately omitted a few helpful tips when she left me in charge.”

      “Could be,” Carrie agreed. “She does like to feel superior. Now, go. Change shirts and get to work. I have things under control here. As soon as I have Jackson fed and cleaned up, we’ll head on over to my house so peace should reign here for you and your patients.”

      “Thank you,” Noah said, his tone heartfelt. “I mean it, Carrie. I don’t know what we’d do without you. The first couple of months, when Jackson was with Cait in Baltimore so she could breast-feed him, I had no idea of what she must be going through, even with help. I was so sure it would be easier for me here, with family all around. I’m a doctor. I deal with sick kids on a daily basis. They’re not usually in the best mood, but they’re mostly saints compared to my own son.”

      “Jackson is a sweet little angel,” she corrected.

      Noah smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing you’re smitten. Otherwise I’d be up a creek. Thanks again for pitching in.” His expression turned serious. “I want you to let me know if it gets to be too much for you, if we’re taking advantage.”

      “Not to worry. I love having Jackson with me,” she assured her brother-in-law.

      “But it doesn’t leave much time for...” His voice trailed off.

      “For what?” she asked, forcing a smile. “My busy schedule of watching the grass grow? My nonexistent social life? Pursuing my exciting career path?”

      At her undisguised bitter tone, worry immediately spread across his face. “Carrie, are you okay? Seriously? Do you want to talk about any of this? I can make time.”

      “Absolutely not. I think one of the things I love most about watching the baby is that he doesn’t ask questions I can’t answer. I have Grandpa Mick doing enough of that. And Mom. Even Cait gets in a shot from time to time.”

      “I’m happy to listen, though,” Noah said. “Being an outsider, I might be able to give you a different perspective.”

      “Noah, I love you for wanting to help, but we’re talking about the O’Briens. I have so many perspectives about my life, my head is spinning. I’ll figure it out, even if it’s not on their timetable.”

      “Of course you will,” he said with confidence. “I’ll be by to get Jackson later.”

      “Or I can bring him back,” she offered. “Whichever’s easiest for you. Just let me know.”

      As soon as Noah had gone, she sat the baby back down, mixed some applesauce into his cereal and spooned it into his mouth at a steady clip. He gave her a toothless smile that always warmed her heart.

      Today, thinking of Susie’s longing to have a child and her own fantasy about a family, that smile made her heart ache. When would it be Susie’s turn? Or hers?

      *