“You fed her, then took her for a walk, then played with her while I prepared dinner, and then you put her straight to bed. When would I have held her?”
“Don’t give me that. You know you could have—”
“Besides, she doesn’t even know me.” Her mother’s voice held an affecting little quiver now. “It would break my heart if I tried to take her and she cried.”
Tate, at least, seemed to fall for the performance, even if Kim remained cynical. “I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m sure Daryn would love being held by you. She’s an easygoing little thing, doesn’t seem at all shy.”
Betsy smiled at him tremulously. “Thank you, dear. Perhaps she’ll let me play with her for a few minutes in the morning, if Kim will allow me a little time.”
Rolling her eyes, Kim murmured, “You’re welcome to play with her anytime you want.”
“Thank you, dear. Now, about tomorrow, Tate…”
“That’s enough, Mom. We don’t plan to stay that long tomorrow, anyway. I’d like to see Grandma for a few minutes and introduce her to Daryn, but that was my only goal for this weekend. The sole reason I dragged poor Tate along was because you insisted I would ruin your life if I exposed the shenanigans you’ve been pulling with them. So don’t tell him what to do tomorrow. You should be grateful to him for being here at all, not critical of anything he does while he’s here.”
“Well, of course I’m grateful. As you should be, of course. You’re very fortunate to have such a good friend to help you when you need him.”
“When I need him?”
“Well, yes. So you don’t have to confess to your grandmother and aunt that you’re—” Betsy paused to look around, then continued in a whisper “—an unwed mother.”
“Oh, for—”
“Um, Kim, why don’t we—”
Whatever hasty distraction Tate was going to suggest was interrupted when Bob came back outside. Perhaps sensing the tension in the garden, Bob looked quickly from his wife to their guests before saying, “The Cardinals game is getting pretty exciting in there. Julian’s watching now. We thought you might like to join us for the final innings, Tate.”
“Sure, I’m a Cards fan.”
“So am I,” Kim said, reaching for the baby monitor. “I’ll join you.”
The truth was, she couldn’t care less about baseball, but she’d had enough of her mother’s nonsense for now. At least in the den, she could pretend to be engrossed in the game, which would save her the effort of making more stilted conversation until it was a reasonable time to turn in.
Not that bedtime would be any easier, considering who she would be sharing a room with that night.
Deciding it would be less awkward if they didn’t try to get ready at the same time, Kim slipped out of the living room fairly early to prepare for bed. She washed her face and changed in the guest bath across the hall from the bedroom. Remembering that her mother tended to keep the air conditioner turned down quite cool, she’d brought a pair of navy pajamas with a button-up top and loose, elastic-waist long pants. She couldn’t have been dressed more modestly if she’d worn a turtleneck and overalls, she decided, appraising herself in the mirror. Which was exactly her intention.
She left the nightlight burning so that Tate had no trouble getting around in the room when he tiptoed stealthily in after she was in bed. Like her, he was basically fully dressed in a gray T-shirt and sleep pants striped in dark and light gray. She didn’t try to pretend to be asleep when he stood awkwardly beside the bed, looking as though he didn’t quite know what to do.
“I could curl up on the floor,” he said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the still-sleeping baby.
“Don’t be silly, there’s not room even if you could be comfortable there. Just don’t hog the covers, and we’ll get along fine tonight.”
She’d spoken lightly, treating the situation as no big deal. As if she were in the habit of sharing a bed platonically with male friends. She doubted Tate was fooled, but he seemed to relax a little in response to her easy tone.
He climbed into the bed, staying far to his side as he stretched out. “I don’t hog the covers and I don’t snore,” he assured her. “But I have been known to break into show tunes in my sleep.”
She lifted her head off the pillow. “Um—”
Chuckling, he rolled away from her. “Kidding. Good night, Kim.”
Laughing softly, she twisted to her other side so that they lay back-to-back. “Good night, Tate.”
* * *
Kim must have been very tired, or as a single mother she had learned to sleep when she could. Maybe both. As far as Tate could tell from his side of the bed, she was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.
He wished he could say the same for himself. Though he remained very quiet and still so as not to disturb Kim, he lay awake for a long time, watching numbers scroll past on the digital clock on the nightstand.