of stuffing in a bag and throwing away?”
“Yep.”
Yuck. “That’s it. I’m calling the police.”
“Because of washable diapers?”
“That was the last straw, yes.”
Justin let the diapers fall back to the bed. “You can’t do that, Laura. Someone trusts you to look after her baby. Someone who may be in trouble. You can’t betray their trust and give their baby to Social Services.”
“Why do you talk about Social Services as if I’m delivering the baby to total doom? They are there to protect children.”
“I know. And they do, the best they can, when there is no one else there for the child. But now there is someone else.”
“There is? Who?”
Justin rolled his eyes. “You. The person the parents trusted with their baby.”
“I don’t know this baby.”
Justin shrugged. “His mother or father could be an old friend perhaps? You must have some friends you haven’t seen in a few months, maybe even a year or two?”
“Well, yes…” She slid down to sit on the bed. A small fist waved in the air as the baby’s dream was disturbed, but he settled down again and Laura allowed herself to breathe. A few more minutes of peace, that was all they had. He had to wake up any minute now. “Of course. I’ve been so busy lately that I’ve almost lost touch with even my closest friends. Then there are friends from college, from my summer jobs. High school friends. But I can’t believe any of them would dump their infant baby on me without a word.” She stood, careful not to disturb the baby again. “Let’s talk in the living room, where we don’t disturb him.”
Justin followed her, bumping into her back when she stopped short at the sight of her living room.
“Oh, damn.”
Justin put his hand on his shoulder and pushed her to the side. “Wait here, I’ll go first. Looks like it was a burglar after all.”
How embarrassing. “No…this is how it usually looks these days.”
His look was incredulous, and embarrassment made her lash out at him.
“Well, maybe you’re the perfect housewife, Justin, but I’m not. I’m swamped with work. I was so exhausted that I didn’t think I’d make it up the stairs! I don’t know how this happened…but things just pile up and then all of a sudden it’s Messville. Ordinarily I’m not a slob. So don’t judge me.”
“Hey, what did I say?”
“Nothing. But you’ve got expressive eyes.”
Eyes she’d made the mistake of looking into from close up. Hypnotizing. A woman would throw away her map and happily get lost in there for days.
Justin gestured to the sofa. “Can we move the…stuff away and sit down?”
“Sure.” She grabbed an armful of papers and books and dumped it on top of the diminishing mountain of clean laundry on the coffee table. At least she knew for a fact there wasn’t any underwear there. “There. Have a seat.”
He did. “Do you know any tree huggers?”
Laura dropped down by his side, fatigue seeping into her bones again now that the adrenaline was getting the picture: no one to fight or flee, just diapers to change. Probably not an event worthy of a full-scale hormonal attack. “I know a lot of environmentally conscious people, yes. People who are into recycling and conserving the rain forests.”
“Good. That narrows it down.”
“Are you suggesting I take my phone book and call all the recyclers in there and ask if they’d happened to drop a baby off in my apartment today?”
“We could also just wait for the mother to call.”
“Or the father. Or both. We don’t know who left him here.”
“That’s true.”
Her head fell back against the sofa. “The right thing to do is to call the police. We don’t know the story. He might have been mistreated for all we know.”
“He seems to be well cared for. Even his clothes are color-coordinated.”
Laura shook her head. “I can’t, Justin. Even if I wanted to…” She shook her head again. “It’s illegal. If the parents don’t come for the child and we have to bring in the police I could be disbarred.”
“I’ll take responsibility.”
“What?”
He made an impatient gesture. “The baby was found in my apartment. It was my decision to wait for the parents to contact me.”
“Lying to the police?”
“Adjusting the truth microscopically.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you a lawyer, too?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“What is it you do, by the way? Mrs. Carlson upstairs talks about you as ‘our resident teacher.’ Any truth in that, or is it just her nerve pills speaking?”
“She’s right. I have a teaching diploma, but I mostly work as a speech therapist.”
Speech therapist. Of all the occupations in the world, she wouldn’t have guessed that one in a million years. It didn’t go with the motorbike. She made a mental note to pry further later. “Why is this so important to you?”
“I know what foster care can be like. I don’t wish it on an infant.”
There was obviously a story behind that statement, delivered in a clipped tone devoid of emotion.
“I’m sorry you had a bad experience, but foster care is often excellent, handled by caring, loving people.”
“Yes. And sometimes it’s not.”
“Be reasonable, Justin. You don’t know who left him here and why. His parents may be searching for him. If we don’t turn him in, that’s kidnapping. He’ll be well looked after by the authorities.”
“This is a tiny baby, just a few months old. He needs care. He needs bonding. Do you know what happens to infants who don’t bond with a caretaker in the first few months? They may never recover.”
“He’ll get good care. He’ll get better care, better bonding, with someone who knows what they’re doing.” She gestured at the two of them. “And neither of us does. Neither of us has even the time to look after a baby.”
“We’re capable. I’ve got the time, and I want to help.”
“So you just want to take this baby?”
Justin’s
