“There’s a chicken-and-rice dish in the fridge that we could just heat up,” he said.
“Sounds great.” Taryn’s hand brushed his when she grabbed the handle of the carrier. “I’ll boss Anna Rose and Jorja into making some sides while I rock the baby. They can turn on the oven, too.”
Clinton nodded, opening the door into his apartment. “Come on in. I’ll need to add some diapers and another bottle or two to her diaper bag.”
He had only taken a step into the room when his phone rang. He fished it out of his hip pocket.
“Hello?” He put it on speaker and set about shoving things into the diaper bag.
“This is Rebecca.” Taryn didn’t know her, but anyone could tell by the sound of her voice that she was at the end of her rope. “I’m all checked in. This looks like a nice place. I can’t call much, what with all the scheduled stuff, but I wanted you to have this number in case of an emergency.”
“I’m glad to hear from you,” Clinton said. “Remember, you have to open up and work at the program for it to help.”
“Right now, I don’t know if anything will help me, but I’ll give it a try. Bye, now,” she said and ended the call.
“Zoe has been spoiled ...,” he started to say, before he must have realized that Rebecca had ended the call. He shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Taryn didn’t hand out sympathy like candy at Halloween, but right then she felt sorry for Clinton. “She didn’t even ask about Zoe—but then, she’s only been gone a day. It’s good that she called to give you an emergency number, though.”
“You noticed that, too,” Clinton said with a sigh. “I’m not sure what is going to happen at the end of this time that she’s away. I’ve gota playpen for the baby to sleep in, but she’ll outgrow it soon and need a real crib. But where would I put it if Rebecca just disappears and doesn’t come back for her?”
Taryn looked around his apartment. There was absolutely no place to put another piece of furniture or anything else for Zoe. There certainly wasn’t room in the trailer for a baby bed, either, or she’d offer to put one over there.
“That’s not today’s worry,” Taryn said. “We’ll have to trust that Rebecca is going to get better—and if she doesn’t, we’ll cross that bridge when we have to.” She felt just like Clinton, and she’d only known Zoe for less than twenty-four hours. This precious child needed someone to love and support her forever.
He finished repacking the diaper bag and took the casserole from the fridge. “You could carry this, and I’ll take Zoe.”
“Okay,” she agreed and slung the diaper bag over her shoulder before taking the dish from him. “One day at a time, like the song says. We’ll ask Jorja to pray that Rebecca gets her feet on solid ground in the next few weeks. My prayers don’t get past the ceiling, but hers go all the way to heaven.”
“I hope you are right,” he said and led the way down the stairs.
“When we get to the trailer, you can drag the wooden rocking chair out to the front porch. This baby needs some fresh air. I’m going to rock her and relax. You can sit with me while Jorja and Anna Rose get everything set for dinner,” Taryn told him.
“Maybe they’d rather rock the baby,” Clinton said.
“Fat chance.” Taryn giggled. “I’ll give them a choice of watching the baby or making the sides to go with the casserole. You can see what they choose. They don’t love babies like I do. I think I got that from Nana Irene. A good friend of mine in the service had a baby I adored. Alicia was about this age when her mama and her dad got orders for Germany. Since then, they’ve moved to London, and when they finished their enlistment, they settled in New Zealand. I see pictures of Alicia, andI talk to her and her parents every few months, but ...” She paused. “It was surprisingly hard to have her leave. Besides, Zoe is bored from being inside the shop all day.”
“I feel the same way.” Clinton took the food inside, and after a minute, he dragged the rocking chair out to the porch. Taryn sat down in the chair and turned Zoe around so she could see everything. Then she began to tell her a story about a princess—one of Alicia’s favorites. The high-pitched voice she used elicited a giggle from the baby.
“You are really good with her. Why aren’t you already married and have a couple or three kids of your own?” Clinton asked.
“I haven’t found the right person yet. I had a serious relationship when I was in the service, so I can relate to Rebecca’s situation a little. It was with another serviceman, who turned out to be a lucky guy when I found out he had a wife and kids back home.”
“How would that make him lucky?” Clinton asked as he sat down in the chair.
“My dad was on his last deployment overseas.” Taryn shifted the baby to a different position so she could see more. “If he’d been stateside, my dad might have had to spend the rest of his life in prison for assault.”
Goldie hopped onto the porch step and crawled up in Clinton’s lap. “Is that why you travel a lot and work from home?”
“Probably.” She kissed Zoe on the top of her head and hugged her closer. “But there’s benefits to it, because I now get to visit with this precious baby. What about you? How did you get into helping vets?”
“I had a friend who needed some help navigating the system, and then he had a cousin who couldn’t figure out the paperwork or where to go,” Clinton answered. “It snowballed, and the VA people kind of got to know me, so they work with me and help with whatever resources they have. The VA offered to hire me, but I’d rather do what I do pro bono. I don’t need the money, and I want to help my fellow soldiers.”
“I admire you for doing that—and for helping out Nana Irene and Ruby.” Taryn stood up with the baby, carried her over to the steps, and sat down beside Clinton.
“No thanks necessary. I enjoy both of my jobs,” Clinton said.
“Look, Zoe, this is a kitty cat,” Taryn said and held the baby’s little hand over to touch Goldie’s long yellow fur. “I read that it’s good to let them feel different textures and to read to them even when they’re this young. I think she likes Goldie’s soft fur.”
