then, there was no guarantee they’d still be married today. Claire knew she wouldn’t have been happy with the kind of life he had envisioned for them. And her unhappiness would have doubtless flowed over onto him. It was very likely that, by now, they both would have been miserable. They might not even be together anymore.
Thankfully her thoughts were interrupted when Nick followed her into the living room with the now-silent baby. When he strode past her, she saw that the infant had fallen asleep. Very carefully he bent to return the baby to its basket, then moved it to the floor in front of the couch. For a moment, he only watched the infant sleep, her little mouth working over a bottle that only existed in her dreams. Claire smiled warmly at the sight. Then Nick stood up and turned to face her, and her smile immediately vanished.
Without speaking, he tilted his head toward the other side of the room, where they could talk without fear of waking the baby. Claire preceded him in that direction, stopping by the fireplace, where, surprisingly, a few warm embers still glowed from the fire she had enjoyed earlier that evening.
He hadn’t removed his big parka, but unzipping it had revealed beneath it a baggy, tobacco-colored sweater and well-worn jeans. Without even looking to see what he was doing, he withdrew a small notebook and ballpoint pen from the inside pocket, all the while gazing at her with bland expectation. The accusation that had darkened his eyes earlier was gone now, and his posture was no longer hostile. In many ways, it seemed to Claire that he had turned into a total stranger.
“So you want to tell me how all this came about?” he asked as he clicked the pen, the very picture of efficiency. Somehow, though, when he voiced the question, he seemed to be talking about a whole lot more than the baby who had just shown up on her doorstep.
Well, gosh, Nick, it’s like this, Claire thought. You wanted something totally different from what I wanted, and you never once stopped to ask me about my dreams and my desires. You could only think about your own, and you assumed I’d just go merrily along. That’s how all this came about.
She pushed the thought away before the words could spill out of her mouth and into the open, ensuring what would undoubtedly become an ugly scene. Instead, she scrunched up her shoulders restlessly and let them fall, sighed fitfully, then ran an unsteady hand through her hair. “I was in bed when I heard the doorbell ring just before midnight,” she began.
“Alone?” he demanded.
She couldn’t quite help the incredulous little sound that escaped her. “Do you see anybody else here?” she countered.
“No,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re here alone.”
“I’m alone,” she muttered. Then, just because she felt spiteful, she added, “Tonight I am, anyway.”
The verbal dart must have struck its target perfectly, because Nick’s frown returned, and his eyes darkened angrily again. “Fine,” he bit off. “You were alone in bed and heard the doorbell just before midnight. You sure about the time?”
She nodded. “Dick Clark had just updated me to the situation in Times Square,” she said.
“Then what happened?”
“I ignored it at first,” she continued. “I thought it was probably some New Year’s Eve prank. But it happened a couple more times, so I finally got up to answer it.”
“You make it a habit to answer your door in the middle of the night when you’re here all alone?” he asked, not bothering to disguise the fact that he considered such behavior to be, well, pretty stupid.
“Hey, I don’t usually have to answer the door in the middle of the night,” she told him. She decided to let him sort out for himself whether that was because she didn’t normally have visitors at that time of night, or because there was usually someone else here with her—someone of the masculine persuasion—who answered the door that time of night for her.
Before he could object further, she added, “I thought it might be a patient. And I didn’t just run down and pull the door open wide in welcome. I checked through the window first. That was when I saw the woman standing at the foot of my driveway.”
Nick narrowed his eyes at her. “You actually saw a woman leave the baby?”
Claire shook her head. “I didn’t see her literally put the basket down on my doorstep, but I think it’s a safe bet she’s the one who left the baby here, yes.”
“Did you get a good look at her?”
“Not really. It was dark, and it was snowing pretty hard, and the part of the window I was looking through isn’t completely clear. But the brief glimpse I got of her gave me the impression that she was young. All I can tell you for certain is that she was white, had long blond hair, and was wearing a black jacket and beret. Those are about the only things I’m sure of.”
Nick nodded slowly. “Did you speak to her at all?”
Again Claire shook her head. “As soon as I saw her out there, I switched on all the outdoor lights, but she took off running before I could see her clearly or say anything. For what it’s worth, she did seem hesitant to go. Even after I came outside, she didn’t bolt right away. Just slowed down on the other side of the street and watched me. It was only after she knew I saw the basket that she took off running. I think she wanted to make sure the baby was taken inside before she left.”
Nick eyed her thoughtfully as he processed the information. “You sound like you’re defending her actions.”
Claire opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, putting some thought into her response before giving it. “Maybe I am, in a way,” she relented. “Whoever the young woman was, she really did seem reluctant to leave. I don’t think she would have abandoned the baby unless she was sure someone would be home to take it inside.”
“It still doesn’t excuse what she did.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Claire agreed.
He paused a telling moment before adding sarcastically, “But I can see why you’d think her behavior was acceptable.”
Okay, now that made Claire mad. “I never said her behavior was acceptable,” she countered. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Nick.” She refrained from adding again.
“Yeah, but you’re no fan of children, are you?” he charged.
“Hey, I like kids just fine,” she told him. “As long as they belong to someone else and keep their distance.”
He nodded, making no effort to hide his disappointment. “So you can probably sympathize with the woman who left that little bundle of joy on your doorstep, can’t you? You’d probably do the same thing if you found yourself saddled with a baby you didn’t want.”
Claire knew there was little reason to dignify that allegation with a response. But she couldn’t quite help herself from retorting, “I would never abandon a child. Nor would I conceive one I couldn’t care for. So no, I don’t sympathize with her. But I do think it’s wrong to summarily judge and sentence her without knowing the circumstances of her situation.
“Still,” she hurried on before Nick could interrupt, as he clearly wanted to do, “I can see how a guy like you would see the situation as either-or. You never were much good at distinguishing shades of gray, were
