Ain’t Misbehaving

When the blanket was arranged and his baby still hadn’t started crying, Mitch relaxed, finding a sort of right-side-up football carry that the baby didn’t seem to mind. “I get the feeling we’re going to be a little late for the family dinner,” he drawled.

“Do you mind, Mitch?”

Mind? He considered himself extremely lucky that they weren’t taking a two-week-old infant home. Loving Kay was knowing she had an instinct for finding the world’s loneliest, and taking them in. And loving her meant anticipating any number of potential disruptions in a quiet life in the years ahead. “We’re in no hurry, honey,” Mitch agreed, but he was more than half mesmerized at the thought of his own child in her arms.

“The nurses will flood back in here at feeding time. They were just so busy before, particularly this morning, and then this one-I didn’t think he should be left alone.”

“It’s all ri- Kay. It’s-” Mitch’s face became peculiarly contorted.

“Silly.” Kay snatched the baby from him. “Did you wet on poor old Mitch?” she cooed at him. “You just scared him out of his mind, darling.”

***

“I was not scared out of my mind,” Mitch growled as he pushed open the front door of her house and patted her rear end with unerring aim until Kay was safely out of the driving wind.

“Of course you weren’t,” Kay said placatingly, and started giggling again as she tugged off her coat. “You’re so good with the kids. Who would have guessed that a massive lug like you would be terrified of a ten-pound baby?”

“If I make you a cup of coffee, will you lay off?”

“Nope. No coffee. Just give me four and a half seconds to change and another three full minutes to call my family, and then we’ll be on our way.”

“You don’t need to change.”

“I do, too. I’m not going to your mother’s house smelling like baby powder.”

She was in such a rush, plugging in the tree lights, dropping the Santa suits, taking off her coat, slipping off her shoes in the middle of the floor. He had plenty of time to block her path back toward the bedroom, and in one fell swoop he wrapped her up and hugged her. Just…hugged her.

“Oh, Mitch.” She returned his hug, and then for an instant her head tilted back, and her eyes seared his with an intensely searching expression that he couldn’t fathom. Before he could question her, she wriggled free. “Let me go, you oaf, or I’ll tell your mother you held us up by seducing me.”

“Are you kidding? My mother wouldn’t believe you, and my father would serve you champagne.”

“Your father knows I’m a good woman. Unlike what you think.”

“Come back here and I’ll show you what I think.”

“Don’t you come near this bedroom. We’re late enough,” Kay called as she disappeared down the hall.

“What about zippers and stuff?”

“No excuses.”

Mitch, smiling, stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered aimlessly while she changed her dress. The huge Christmas tree was set up with winking lights, a dozen strands. She liked lights. She also liked to decorate the tree with every handmade ornament any kid had ever given her. The whole place smelled like holly and pine.

And he was going to have Kay and the holly and the pine to himself for a couple of days over the holidays. He’d talked her into a mini-vacation at the hunting lodge up north…and it had taken some talking. She too damn clearly hadn’t wanted to go.

He’d put on a casual air every time he’d been around her. A man didn’t wear hurt or anxiety on his sleeve…and he’d been afraid of pushing her too far. He couldn’t risk losing her altogether. But he was well aware that Kay had not shown any reticence in their relationship until they’d made love.

He couldn’t imagine any more explosiveness than they’d experienced making love together. Kay was totally responsive, so completely uninhibited and free in her loving that he knew she was satisfied. Or did he just want to believe that? How the hell was he supposed to measure it?

“Done. Okay?” Kay whirled in the doorway, showing off an emerald-green dress with that strange extra material under the sleeves, like the garments he saw in magazines.

His lips twitched in a smile. “Beautiful.”

She made a face. “It’s a shame I can’t believe you. You’re so darned biased… Mitch, I have time to phone my parents, don’t I? I know we’re late, but if I don’t get through now…well, you know how the lines are around the holidays.”

“Of course you have time.”

She flashed him a smile, one he could see in a glance didn’t reach her eyes. He trailed her as she crossed into the kitchen and started dialing.

“She’ll be all right, you know,” he said quietly.

Her soft eyes lifted to his. “Jana?”

“She was fine two days ago when you called,” he reminded her gently, understanding perfectly why her mood had suddenly shifted.

“I know that, but…” Kay spoke to the operator, then leaned against the counter as she waited. “You know, you’d love Jana, Mitch. She’s pretty and she’s funny and she’s got your kind of courage… Mom? Merry Christmas!”

Mitch watched her a moment longer, long enough to ensure everything was all right at her parents’ home. He could tell from her expression, not needing to hear any of the conversation, just as he understood her mood change whenever her sister’s name was brought up.

She’d told him a great deal about Jana’s illness. About the latest remission of two years, about the years when the family was afraid Jana wouldn’t make it, of Jana’s trial by pain. He felt he knew Kay’s sister, from having shared the similar lengthy trial of a lonely illness.

More than that, he felt protective of Kay because of it. She felt guilty about not being physically closer to her family; she worried about her sister constantly and felt helpless to do anything for her. Mitch’s family had been in those shoes-those of the helpless bystanders. There was a kind of life’s trial that had to be faced alone; it hurt those closest because there really wasn’t anything they could do. He understood so much of what Kay was feeling…

And felt intense relief for her, as he watched the sparkle return to her eyes, a giggle echo in her throat as she chattered into the phone. Everything really was fine with her family, and her mood picked up again.

“Mitch?”

He shook his head, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was bullied into picking up the phone, coaxed into meeting three people talking all at once on the other end. Jana’s voice was soft, like Kay’s; her mother told him to not allow her daughter to let strangers into the house; her father asked him about the football season, and they made a bet on the Super Bowl. Mitch didn’t have the chance to say much in return, which was probably just as well. By the time Kay snatched the phone back, the only thing in his head was how to break it to them that he had every intention of claiming one member of their family permanently.

Waiting for her, he leaned against the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, enjoying the sound of her animated laughter as she told her sister about their hospital visit that morning.

Only by chance did his eyes flicker to the kitchen table. A letter lay there; he didn’t really mean to look. He didn’t look; it was more a question of catching the “Hi Hot Stuff” in the greeting and a string of x’s and o’s scrawled near the distinctly masculine “Drew” at the end.

A fist clenched in his pocket. It seemed to be his.

“Finally.” Kay hung up the phone and raced into the living room for her coat. “Darn it, I’m sorry, Mitch. I figured on a three-minute call and should have known that would turn into at least twenty. Are we going to be late? That’s a terrible thing to do to your mother on Christmas.”

“We won’t be late,” Mitch soothed, trailing after her with a smile. “I told you, I called Mom from the hospital-”