Secret Baby Scandal(11)

The young woman flicked open a silver stand with one hand and settled  the tray on top of it with the other, never so much as wobbling the full  urn of ice water or the pot of tea wrapped in a bright red cozy. The  food was hidden beneath gleaming domes that she didn't take off before  hurrying away.

"This is what you meant when you said you were going to stop by the  kitchen for something to eat?" Tatiana reached for César as soon as the  server left.

"I might be new to child-rearing, but I figured it was best not to  juggle the pot of tea while carrying a newborn." He passed the baby  over, carefully supporting his head until she had him secured.

Already, the baby arched and squirmed, making small hungry sounds until  she settled him to her breast. He latched on with the fierceness of an  experienced eater.

"Here." Jean-Pierre folded one of the extra blankets and tucked it  under her arm where the baby's head rested. "Does that help?"

"Definitely." She'd never been so comfortable while nursing, in fact.  "This is an incredible setup. I wish all the nighttime feedings had been  this easy."

His jaw flexed, the muscle working as he leaned over to pull the lids off the food trays. "All future feedings can be."

"Although this week, you have a light schedule with football. Normally,  you'd be working." She kept her focus on the fruit-and-cheese board  he'd revealed, not wanting to launch into an argument with him. But she  refused to let him paint a false picture of the role he could play in  any kind of family life.

She picked up a slice of kiwi and popped it into her mouth.

"I don't work at this hour." He used a pair of tongs to transfer select pieces of fruit and cheese to a smaller plate.

"But if you're on the road, that's as good as working since you  wouldn't be at home," the lawyer in her pointed out, unable to resist.

He set the painted china dish on the glider cushion near César's feet,  putting it in easy reach. His arm brushed hers, a warm, solid weight  that had her wondering what it would be like to lean on him. Into him.

She took a piece of crusty bread and bit into it.

"Other players' families travel with them to have more time together."  He loaded a second plate for himself, pulling items from another tray of  cold meats.

Seeing him balance salmon and chicken on the too-small plate made her  remember how careful he was about what he ate. Other players-big, heavy  lineman or younger men new to the league-might see their job as a ticket  to eat as much as they wanted. But even as a teen, Jean-Pierre had made  a study of nutrition and workouts, turning his body into a lean,  muscular machine uniquely adapted for the quarterback role. He swore the  good diet and fitness regimen minimized injuries and would keep him  playing longer.                       
       
           



       

Yet another way he opted to forego pleasure for obligation, dutifully doing the right thing.

"Maybe some families sacrifice one spouse's career for the sake of the  other's." She helped herself to a strawberry, grateful her job didn't  call for her to choke down extra protein at all hours of the day. "But  I'm not sure how happy that makes everyone in the long run. Not to  mention the hardship on the children. That's a lot of moving around."

"Did you mind being on the road during the season as a kid?" Finished  loading up his plate, he tugged an Adirondack chair closer to the glider  and sat down.

"Loaded question." During the football season, she was able to spend  more time with her father, but that came with its own set of challenges.  She stared into the flames as she stroked the soft tuft of hair on  César's head. His suckling had slowed, reminding her she should move him  to the other side to nurse.

"You loved it and so did I. What's loaded about that?"

"We were overprivileged, with way too much freedom." She didn't want to  raise her son like that. "Our parents didn't keep track of us half the  time and we could have gotten into all kinds of trouble."

"But we didn't. And we learned self-sufficiency."

Lifting up César, she laid him against her shoulder and patted his back.

"Having kids learn through trial by fire isn't my idea of good  parenting." Even though she got the most time with her father during  football season, he still seemed happiest with her when she amused  herself all day and stayed out of his hair so he could focus on his  duties with the Texas team.

If that meant she made a game of seeing how long she could leave the  hotel without anyone noticing she was gone, her father praised her-days  later, of course-for how "good" she'd been during the week.

"But you can be an effective parent whether you're at home or not. My  point is, kids are adaptable. They don't need to be in the same house  day in and day out to feel a sense of stability. That comes from family,  not a place." He worked methodically through his food and through his  argument.

The lawyer in her should appreciate the well-reasoned views, at least.  But it frustrated her that this man, of all people, didn't understand  her better than that.

He'd been a part of her past. He'd seen her father in action.

"All the more reason why it's important to build a functional, loving  family and not a group bound by duty alone." She shifted the baby to the  other side and Jean-Pierre reached to reorganize her plate, her pillow  and the prop under César's head.

"Being dutiful means being committed. Some people would think that's a  good thing in a family relationship. Devotion and commitment are  important components of stability." He even tugged the blanket back over  her toes after it had gotten tangled from all the movement.

She had to appreciate his thoughtfulness. But his carefully scripted  sense of family? It sounded like a pale imitation of the kind of loving  relationship she'd once dreamed about.

"I'm sure César will benefit from those qualities." There was a cool  breeze carrying the dampness of the lake, so she wrapped the baby  blanket tighter around him. "I'm anxious to work out a way to co-parent,  too, believe me. But it's been a long day and maybe we should table the  rest of this discussion until tomorrow when I'm more clearheaded."

"You mean after you've had time to prepare your opening arguments?" He  rose from his seat and paced the patio around the fire pit, one hand  shoved in his pocket.

"No." She shook her head, wearier than ever despite the nap. "After  I've caught up on some rest. I didn't expect motherhood to be so  exhausting and I think the added stress of knowing we needed to work out  so much between us had been weighing on me more than I realized. Now,  it's like all the stress of the last few months has just drained me."

He quit pacing.

"Of course." His nod was sympathetic. Dutiful. "May I take him from  you? I'd appreciate the chance to put him back in his crib and tuck him  in for the night."                       
       
           



       

Ah, that wasn't just duty, though. She could hear the emotion behind the words, no matter how drily they were delivered.

"Certainly. Thank you." She wished, just for a moment, that he was  tucking her in, too. Blinking fast, she ignored the wayward thought and  passed César to his father. Jean-Pierre took him in one arm. With his  other hand, he reached toward her, gently pulling her blouse back into  place over her half-bared breast.

Her eyes flew to his. Held.

"Thank you, Tatiana, for taking good care of him." Jean-Pierre covered  the baby's back with his broad hand and patted gently. "I hope we can  learn to be friends again somehow. For his sake, we will need to trust  each other."

"We will." She had to believe that. She loved her newborn son. There  was no other option than to find a way through this mess she'd made in  not letting Jean-Pierre know sooner. "Tonight was a start for the three  of us. Having you with me allowed me to catch up on some much-needed  rest. Tomorrow, we'll figure out our next steps."

"A boat ride is good for clearing the head." He extended a hand to her. "Can I walk you back to your room?"

"If you don't mind, I think I'll watch the stars a little longer and  have a cup of the tea." She needed to give herself a mental pep talk  before his family descended on them tomorrow. Before that boat ride that  he'd promised.

The excursion wouldn't include César, so she wouldn't have her son's  warm weight in her arms, reminding her to tread carefully with  Jean-Pierre.

"I'll be glad to know you're down here enjoying some quiet time." He  brushed a touch along her cheek, stirring her curls and her awareness.  "We could make one hell of a team, Tatiana."