Dickens and Me

CHAPTER TWELVE
(copyright 2009 Anita Birt)
A heat haze shimmered over the street. Greg wheeled the stroller around to the front of the clinic. The petunias in the window boxes had perked up but the soil looked dry. He stuck his finger in. Not a lick of moisture. Not his problem but he'd ask the receptionist for a pitcher of water. His good deed for the day.
The air-conditioned reception area was a welcome relief from the humid heat beating down on the town. A worrisome thought intruded on Greg. The baby only had on a cotton outfit. He'd freeze in here. He was too little to withstand the cold.
Greg parked the stroller at the reception desk. The real Betty Harris smiled at him. "Good morning. Do you have an appointment?"
"I'm Greg Fraser. I have an appointment with Dr. Balfour at eleven, not for me, for my nephew." He'd made that crystal clear when he telephoned for the appointment.
Betty Harris handed Greg a clipboard with a form attached. "Please fill this out with your nephew's name, age, the usual information."
"May I borrow a pen?" he asked.
She handed him a ballpoint. "Dr. Balfour is running a little late."
"That's okay. I'll have time to answer the questions and if you have pitcher, I'll water the petunias in the window box. It's a scorcher out there."
"That's very thoughtful of you. Not to worry. I always see to the flowers at the end of the day." She smiled and turned to greet a patient.
Greg pushed the stroller over to a corner away from a mother and two tough looking noisy boys aged about four or five who were racketing around the room. Criminals in the making for sure, he thought. They grabbed a stuffed rabbit by its ears taking turns whirling it around before pitching it towards their mother, missing her head by inches and disturbing patiently waiting patients.
Impervious to their noise and the rabbit zipping past, she never raised her eyes from the magazine she was reading.
One of the kids stalked over to the stroller and poked his finger into Davie's arm.
"You've got a black baby." The brat smirked.
Davie's lower lip quivered and he started to cry.
"Bugger off." Greg hissed and lifted Davie to safety. He huddled against Greg's chest.
"You said a bad word." The criminal in the making yelled. "Mom, he said a bad word. He said bugger."
"Mr. Fraser." The receptionist came from behind her desk. "Please come with me."
"Where can I park the stroller?" He didn't want the little monsters climbing all over it.
"Leave it beside my desk. It'll be fine there."
He shoved the clipboard into the baby bag, slung it over his right shoulder, tucked Davie against his left and pushed the stroller to its parking spot.
The receptionist apologized as they walked along the corridor. "I'm sorry those children bothered your baby."
"Pity the doctor who has them as patients. Looking after them would be worse than swimming with sharks."
"It's all in a day's work for Dr. Halliday. They never say boo to him." She paused at Caroline's door. "Here we are. Dr. Balfour is seeing another patient. She'll be with you in a few minutes." With a friendly nod, she closed the door.
Greg studied the room. When had he called at the clinic? Last week? It felt like years had passed since he'd seen Caroline for the first time. He hadn't noticed the examining table by the window. He'd been concentrating on making an impression on the doctor, and failed.
Sitting Davie on his lap, he fished a sweater out of the bag and managed to get it on the kid. "There, now you won't catch cold."
Mothers, he decided, must have the sharpest reflexes on the planet. Hanging on to a wriggling baby while pushing unwilling arms into little sleeves required a special talent.
"Davie, I have to fill out this form. You must be quiet as a mouse. As a mouse," Greg whispered and clicked the pen. Davie grabbed it.
"Wa," he shouted and banged the pen on the clipboard. The pen flew out of his hand, slid across the floor and rolled under a wheeled stool.
"Da!" He waved his arms and bounced on Greg's lap.
Holding Davie like a sack under one arm, he crossed the room, hunkered down and retrieved the pen. He didn't want to frustrate the kid but the pen wasn't a toy or a saucepan lid.
Davie tried to grab it but Greg was too quick and returned to his chair.
"No. I have to fill out this form." With Davie held snugly in his left arm and the pen held firmly in his right hand he examined the form teetering on his lap. The baby jiggled. The clipboard careened off his lap and hit the floor.
Impossible to write and hold a baby. One or the other had to go and there was nowhere to put Davie safely. The kid was like an over active snake. He'd roll off the examining table and break his neck. Holding the snake firmly Greg reached down and picked up the clipboard.
Caroline tapped on the door, walked in and closed it. Betty had told her Greg had specifically requested to see her when he made the appointment. She'd noted his name on her page in the clinic register. Betty had also made it clear he was not her patient, his nephew was.
Shocked at how quickly she had jumped to a wrong conclusion about Greg at the airport she looked forward to seeing Laura's baby.
"Good morning, Greg." She pulled over the wheeled stool and sat in front of him.
"Hello." She smiled at Davie. He smiled back.
"How old is he?"
"Six months. I tried to fill out the form but he threw the pen away and wouldn't sit still." He paused. "I'm not very good at this. If you'll hold him I'll answer the questions if I can. I don't know his birthday or if he has any allergies or what shots he's had or if he's had any serious illnesses."
"Da," Davie said.
"What's his name?"
"David Fraser. I call him Davie. He's my sister's baby. His father is Colin Ferguson. He's got chickenpox in Vancouver. I was supposed to mind Davie for two days but Colin can't travel for a week." He flashed his lady killer smile at her. "So I'll be baby sitting longer than I expected."
Against her will Caroline's heart notched up a beat. "What's the problem with Davie?" Coolly professional she refused to let her heart rule her head and jotted Davie's name on the form with Greg's address.
"He's got splotchy spots, back and front. There are some on his legs. I don't know anything about babies and spots so I thought you should have a look at him." She made notes on the form.
"Good. Undress him on the table and I'll have a look at his spots. When did you first notice them?"
"I've only had him since yesterday evening. I noticed them this morning when I took off his sleepers. He doesn't feel hot and he isn't cranky so I guess he isn't itchy."
Caroline watched Greg wrestling the baby out of his clothes raising the specter of what might have been.
David was a lovely dark chocolaty brown and cute as a bug
Their last meeting when she'd bandaged Greg's heel had been a disaster. Her behavior shamed her. She'd lashed out at him for having advantages growing up as if it was his fault she'd had to scrimp and save to pay her way through school.
Being near him made her edgy. Pulled in two directions at once. Attracted and repelled. Repel was the wrong word. Repel didn't feel right. Keeping her distance felt right. Like keeping away from a burning flame.
So what was she afraid of? No way would she get involved with him. Once was enough.
As soon as his sister returned and freed him from caring for Davie, she'd arrange a meeting. More and more she felt like a fool for keeping up the pretence of not knowing him.
"There." Greg kept one large hand on the naked infant. "He's like an eel. If it's all right with you, I'll hold him still while you examine him, and be careful, he might pee on you."
"Thanks for the warning." She concentrated on her patient while studiously ignoring Greg standing beside her. Easier said than done. Caught in a force field beyond her control, she fought the attraction drawing her farther into his orbit.
"Hi Davie." The baby's toothless grin delighted her. "Let me have a look at your spots."
Smiling, she glanced at Greg. "You'll have to move your hand."
"Okay, but be careful."
"I've examined hundreds of babies and haven't let one get away yet."
She checked the baby from head to toe, heart, lungs and throat. "You can dress him now." She stepped aside for Greg to take over and picked up the clipboard from the stool.
"What's wrong with him?" Greg fished a diaper from his baby bag and slid it under Davie.
"My guess is the spots are a reaction to something he's eaten or from a disruption in his routine. They seem to be fading. If they return, call and make another appointment."
"Am I supposed to do anything for him?"
"Don't let him get overheated and make sure he drinks water as well as his formula. He's a perfectly healthy baby."
Greg concentrated on securing the diaper.
"I think you've got it backwards," Caroline said quietly.
"Backwards?"
"The diaper. It won't go on that way." She smothered a smile.
He switched it around and pressed the tabs. "I'm learning as I go."
"You're doing fine. Keep in touch if you're concerned about Davie." She walked to the door. "How is your heel?"
"Fine so far."
She opened the door. "Good."
"Wait."
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry if I upset you the other day. Will you have dinner with me tomorrow or Friday or Saturday? It will have to be at my house because I don't have a sitter. I can barbecue a steak or order in a pizza."
Caught completely off guard the earth shifted under Caroline's feet. "I'm sorry I was rude to you. It was inexcusable of me."
"Let's forget what happened and try again. Will you come to dinner?"
Falling back on medical ethics she shook her head. "Sorry, I can't accept. You're my patient."
"Not true. Davie's your patient. I'm not. I'm his temporary guardian."
Caroline's professional calm deserted her. She didn't want to have dinner with him at his home. They'd be alone, the baby probably in bed asleep.
"I'll call if I can make it." Clutching the clipboard like a shield, she opened the door and paused. "I thought you'd like to know the police tracked down Big Jack Weaver and he's given them a statement that clears me of neglecting the girl in the car."
"That's great." Greg said.
"It is." Smiling briefly she closed the door.
Greg wasn't sure what to make of Caroline's hasty departure. Did she have a slew of patients waiting to see her or was she avoiding having to answer. His invitation had surprised her.
Frowning over his task he finished dressing the baby. "Well, kid, we didn't win any brownie points with the doctor, did we? You couldn't even hang on to your spots so I'd have an excuse to see her again."
Not ready to give up on his pursuit of the elusive Caroline Balfour, Greg shifted Davie into his left arm, picked up the baby bag, returned to the reception area and secured the baby in the stroller.
"Thanks for guarding it." He glanced at the motley group of patients seated in chairs along the walls. "Is it always this busy?"
"Pretty well. Do you want to make another appointment?"
"No, the baby's okay. I'm looking after him for a few days."
"He's lucky to have you."
"Thank you. I'm lucky to have him." Pleased that someone appreciated his efforts, he wheeled Davie out of the clinic and around back to the car. It was steamy hot. He opened the doors to cool it off.
"Davie, my lad, you and I have to make plans to lure Caroline out to the house but right now it's too hot to think. Let's get an ice cream cone and we'll lick it together."
With the kid safely in his car seat and the air conditioning blasting cool air, Greg changed his mind about stopping for ice cream. Davie was a messy eater. He'd drip ice cream on his clothes and, given half a chance, would mess up his uncle.
Better to buy ice cream and take it home. Before that they'd stop at the bookstore and buy a rhyming book suitable for babies.
He parked at the supermarket. The bookstore was a block away. "Into the stroller with you, Davie." Greg hurried up the street. He didn't want to keep him out in the heat too long.
What babies liked to listen to and look at was a mystery to him. A clerk led him to a section he'd never known existed, a large section filled with children's books.
"Davie likes rhymes." He said in what he hoped was a proud uncle voice.
"Than try a Dr. Seuss book. Kids like them. And here's one my daughter loved." She handed him, Goodnight Moon. "I read it to her night after night until she learned to read it herself."
"I'll take it and you choose a Dr. Seuss for me."
"This is one of my favorites, HOP ON POP."
"Thanks. Those two will do for a start."
Greg paid the bill and hurried to the supermarket. "Too cold in here for you, Davie, so we'll be quick."
He grabbed a small carton of strawberry ice cream and a box of arrowroot biscuits. He had just checked out when a pregnant woman rushed up to him.
"Greg Fraser! I don't believe it. You haven't changed a bit since high school. I guess this little guy is your sister's baby."
Greg tried to connect her with his past. "I'm sorry..." Then the light dawned. Pregnant. It had to be Tansy Thomas. Her face had fleshed out so had the rest of her. She wasn't the sexy Tansy he remembered.
"Tansy Thomas." He held her hand. "You're looking great, all motherly and pretty as a picture."
She flashed a flirty smile. "And you are handsome as ever." She lowered her gaze. "We had some good times didn't we?"
Her voice was as low and seductive as he remembered. Her words seemed to imply there'd be more good times. What was she thinking? She had three kids and a fourth on the way. She was being playful. As he released her hand her fingertips tickled across his palm.
Momentarily surprised he fussed over Davie. "I've got to take him home before the ice cream melts. Why don't you and Jack drive out and see me?"
"I'd like that. Wait a sec I want you to meet Pete's wife." She waved at a pretty young woman waiting by the exit with a loaded cart. "Sarah come and meet an old friend of mine."
Tansy linked her arm through her sister-in-law's. "This is Greg Fraser. We knew each other in high school."
Greg shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. Pete's a good guy, used to be a running back on our football team."
Sarah widened her eyes. "I didn't know that. You must know lots about him." She turned to Tansy. "Since you are old friends I think Greg should come to dinner at my parents' with you and Jack."
"Dinner? When?" Greg didn't want to screw up his social calendar in case Caroline accepted his invitation.
"Saturday. It'd be great to have you join us. I'll have Mom give you a call."
"It depends on whether I can find a sitter. I'll let your mother know when she phones." He smiled at Tansy. "Good to see you. If I can't make Saturday you and Jack have to come out to the house."
Tansy stood on tiptoe and kissed him. Not an air kiss brushing his cheek, a real kiss on his mouth. Her tongue darted between his lips, met his startled tongue, and quickly withdrew.
She stepped back and smiled into his eyes. "Nice. You taste just the same. See you on Saturday." Chatting with Sarah she trundled the loaded cart out of the market as though nothing had happened.
"Da," Davie yelled and bounced in the stroller.
"Da," Greg said. "Let's get out of here." He hustled Davie out to the car.
On the drive home Greg mused over the encounter with Tansy. She had kissed him, open mouthed and teased him with her tongue the way she used to when they were teens. Her stroke across his palm was no accident.
She'd risked tongue-kissing right in front of her sister-in-law.
What was she thinking? That he'd be interested in meeting with her and picking up where they'd left off. Get real. With a pregnant woman? The wife of his oldest friend? Forget it. She was being Tansy.
Shaking his head, he parked the car in the garage. "Davie, my lad, let's you and me have some ice cream and consider womankind. You may have some answers."
"Da," Davie said as Greg lifted him out of the car.
"I'll bring in your new books when you are safely in your highchair."
"Da, da."
Greg pointed at his chest. "Greg. Uncle Greg."
He unlocked the door, patted Kim waiting patiently in the hall and headed for the kitchen. The message light blinked on the phone. He'd check them later. He'd promised Davie ice cream and after the tongue kiss from Tansy, ice cream would be a pleasant diversion. He still hadn't figured out why she'd done it. Was he supposed to read something into it?
Spooning ice cream into Davie was the devil's own work. The kid loved it, grabbed some from the dish, mashed it all over his face and cried for more when his dish was empty.
Not sure how much to give an infant, Greg allowed him a few more spoonfuls before calling a halt. He wiped Davie's face with a damp paper towel and gave him an arrowroot biscuit to munch on. Within minutes the baby's eyes drooped. Greg didn't want to wake him to give him a bottle. The kid would be thirsty after his nap.
With the sleeping baby in his arms Greg walked slowly upstairs. He liked holding the relaxed little body. Liked the feel of absolute trust Davie had in his uncle.
Having the baby to care for had changed his attitude toward marriage. If he wanted to be more than an uncle he had to find a woman interested in marrying him and raising a family. He was thirty-one. Time to make a move or stay stuck.
Would Caroline like children? She'd been great with Davie, knew just how to make him comfortable while she examined him.
Greg eased the baby into his cot, covered him with a thin sheet and raised the bars. "Sleep well," he said and tiptoed from the room.
He had to devise a foolproof strategy to meet her away from work.
Where to begin? She'd been friendly at the clinic until he asked her for dinner. Up went her guard and she'd waffled around trying to find an excuse to turn down the invitation.
She presented a challenge and he wasn't ready to give up. It'd be like climbing an unfamiliar peak when a fog rolled down. He'd be careful in his approach. She could only say no in which case he'd try again.
Unless she was already involved.
Shelve that idea until he knew for sure.

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