FAR, ALL was not going according to plan for Carly.
Why was Grace always crying? That couldn’t be normal. Carly consulted the baby bible section on teething. Grace had gone through no fewer than five cold rags she gnawed until they were no longer cold. They entertained her but did nothing to stop the crying.
She had growing sympathy for Hot Dad. If he had to deal with Grace all night, he had to be working on fumes. A girl wouldn’t know that, though, if she went by the way he kissed. That kiss had scared her a little bit, given that she’d been hot and bothered within seconds. Not the reaction she’d expected. Loneliness and desperation had weakened her. That, and the way Levi had checked her out, his heated gaze sliding over her as if he’d seen a cookie he wanted. As if he’d die without a bite.
But she needed to stay away. After months of juggling nothing but responsibilities and heavy commitments, she would sell this baby business and pursue her own dreams. Her life. Besides, she and Levi both had people who depended on them and who needed to be put first. She had her father, and Levi had Grace.
They’d settled into a bit of a routine after that hot kiss, one that didn’t include any more of those kisses. Every afternoon Levi picked Grace up right on time, threw her up in the air, then caught her. Grace would squeal and laugh for the first time that day. Carly would pretend it didn’t scare her to see Grace airborne. They’d talk a little bit about his search for a permanent babysitter—which, frankly, was not going well—and about Grace’s day, then go to their respective corners. He and Grace to his house. Carly to her sewing machine, where she had a little fun before hitting her business chores after dinner.
Interestingly, he’d not taken her up on her offer to babysit evenings. She supposed that meant he wasn’t dating anyone yet. Thank God for that, because she’d offered in a moment of over-the-top selling of her idea. She didn’t want to facilitate his getting laid. Carly was the one who needed to get out more. She missed her clothes. Marc Jacobs, Kate Spade, Louis Vuitton and all their cool friends were sitting in her closet collecting dust.
Carly sat at her laptop to do what she did best. Also known as stalling. In the background, an old but favorite episode of Never Wear This played. On one hand, she wasn’t sure why she bothered with the blogging. The posts took forever to compose, and her post on the best diaper for babies’ skin had a whopping one comment. It was from someone who claimed to know the secret to making a million dollars, tax-free. Not one comment from a weary parent looking for advice. Or hope.
As usual, she squeezed the words out one by one. She’d put a sentence together, living by spellcheck, and hoping her grammar was decent. It was never simple, not for her, and felt like being in high school again. Insecure. Inadequate. This wasn’t what she should be doing with her life anyway. She’d always wanted to pursue graphic arts or fashion design. That was in her blood and, though hard work, was something she could do well. She’d gone away to school to the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City. Everything had been going so well there, too, but then even that had blown up in her face. Something she didn’t want to think about right now.
Giving up on the words after a few minutes, she padded into the spare bedroom and her sewing corner—the place where dreams went to die. The half-dressed mannequin wore part of the design she’d been working on before Pearl passed away. Despite her failure, she’d kept at it, the pleasure at creating never completely leaving her. Only her confidence had been shattered. And unfortunately, her fashion prowess, should she manage to get it back, would not be of much help when it came to the world of baby products. But frankly, if she had to choose between an empty screen and playing on her sewing machine, the choice was a no-brainer.
It had been far too long since she’d torn something apart and put it back together again. Levi had been right in that the red baby dress was beautiful but impractical. She’d seen a lot of that in the months since she’d taken over RockYourBaby. Carly held up another one of the baby dresses from the lot that had been shipped to her.
She cut into the dress, ripping seams and removing sleeves. Found a piece of a soft white cotton with a flowery print that she’d bought at the fabric shop in town the last time she’d been in there. Seemed like ages ago. She could replace a velvet sleeve with a cotton one. Carly went to work cutting out pieces and holding them up. Okay, weird. But somehow it worked. She held it up and admired the juxtaposition of solid red velvet and flowery cotton print. It still needed...something. Maybe ribbon or lace.
She’d always loved this part of fashion. Seeing something in a brand-new light. Satin and denim...leather and lace. She had no doubt it was what she’d be doing right now if she had a choice. She could do it all right here from her sewing machine. One thing for sure—she didn’t want to run RockYourBaby.com. That was her mother’s dream, and Carly couldn’t hang on much longer.
Finally, Carly finished and forced herself away from her sewing machine to trudge to the computer screen. She leafed through the baby bible for almost an hour but found nothing inspiring to give to her readers. Nothing to turn their boring, mundane lives into something interesting, or even to remind them that what they were doing was important. She imagined that when it came down to it, raising a baby was all about routine and not much about fun.
What was that saying about a picture being worth a thousand words? A thousand words were really all she needed for this post. Grabbing her high-resolution camera, Carly took photos of the baby outfit she’d just sewn together. Not bad. She downloaded them to her laptop and uploaded them to her blog. It looked okay, frankly, even without any words. She hit Publish.
Grace wailed, awake from her nap. When Carly reached the crib, Grace had rolled over onto her stomach from her back. What’s more, she looked immensely pleased with herself, her chubby little legs kicking.
“Daahh...dah,” Grace said, then blew a raspberry. “Bff.”
At least Carly had the diaper changing routine down. It hadn’t taken long to figure out as it wasn't exactly rocket science. She’d done her share of babysitting younger cousins years ago. And some baby care, she had come to realize, was so routine that it could be a little mind-numbing at times.
Maybe they needed a change of scenery. She could take Grace for a walk. Not exciting, but at least it got her outside the house after months of nearly hibernating. Jill and Zoey, her two best friends, had tried to get her to go out more, but Carly hadn’t much wanted to go out and celebrate being young and alive when she’d still been grieving.
But today, she needed a diversion. Carly rummaged through her closet and pulled out her distressed short overalls. She rolled them farther up at the hem and paired them with a white T-shirt and her broken-in flat brown leather boots. A long-brimmed black fedora completed the look.
“There.” She felt like a new woman, or more like her old self.
Carly then spent the next two hours taking Grace for a stroll around the neighborhood and to the nearby park in the lightweight umbrella stroller rated as the most portable and functional by Baby Today. They were the standard in the industry, and Carly hoped they would consider buying RockYourBaby for top dollar. Time was running out.
Last night, she’d checked in with Kirk and asked to speak with Dad.
“He’s having a bad day,” Kirk had warned.
That was always code for “He’s not talking to anyone and being a pain in the ass. He won’t do his exercises.”
“I’ll try back tomorrow.”
Mom’s death had hit them all hard, sure, but none harder than their father. He regularly fought with the therapists who were trying to get him
