Beth returned with a clean washrag and handed it to Sam. “I can’t believe what a good sport you are about this.”
“Doesn’t look like I had much choice,” he said, wiping the wet cloth over his face and beard. “I have to say I had no idea dinnertime would be quite this adventurous.”
“Me neither,” Beth agreed as she wiped Matthew’s hands and face. “Do you think we should give him a bath?”
“Don’t think we have much choice. I’ll run the bath water while you keep him entertained.”
Matthew was in high spirits and ran his hands over his tray, smearing the food that remained there as if he was an artist creating a masterpiece.
Sam went into the bathroom, ran the bathwater, and returned in time to see that Beth had managed to clean off the high chair and Matthew. The kid’s hair stuck straight up with a mixture of green peas and peaches. When he saw Sam, he lifted his arms, ready to be set free of the contraption that held him in place.
“I’ll be right in to help,” Beth told him. “Nichole says as soon as he’s eaten dinner we need to change him into his pajamas and feed him his bottle, then put him down for the night.”
“Sounds good.” Sam carried the baby back into his bedroom and again needed Beth’s help getting him undressed. Who knew a kid this little would have moves Houdini couldn’t manage?
Bathtime was fun, although Sam ended up getting as much water on him as he had Matthew’s dinner. The kid loved being in the water and took delight slapping his hands and splashing water in every which direction. More than once Sam had to reach for a towel to dry his eyes.
While he washed the baby, Beth got out Matthew’s pajamas. It took both of them to dry and dress him. Sam bounced him against his hip while Beth heated his bottle. She was about to take him from Sam when he smelled something bad.
“Do you smell what I smell?” he asked Beth.
She sniffed near Matthew’s butt and then raised her eyes to his and nodded. “Poop.”
Holding Matthew away from him, Sam handed her the kid. “He’s all yours.”
“Sam!”
“I draw the line at poopy diapers, Beth. Said so earlier.”
“Okay, okay, but I’m going to need help.”
Together they managed it, but it wasn’t pretty. Sam kept his head twisted away while Beth cleaned the baby. “Rocco should have supplied a gas mask for this,” he complained.
Beth laughed. “Oh come on, it isn’t that bad.”
Matthew was in good spirits. As soon as Beth settled down in the rocker with his bottle, the baby reached for it with both hands. She gently rocked him as he eagerly drank his milk.
Sitting across from her, Sam took in the sight and smiled. She might have been nervous about this, but she was a natural with the baby. He’d enjoyed holding Matthew, but it was always when either Nichole or Rocco was around. This was the first time he’d been responsible for the tyke, and he was grateful Beth was there to back him up.
Matthew closed his eyes and was soon asleep. He finished the bottle and Beth gently removed it from his mouth, placed him over her shoulder, and burped him. “I’m afraid to move,” she whispered, “for fear of waking him.”
Sam reached for the pad Nichole had left them and flipped through the pages until he found instructions for getting the baby to bed. “It says here seven-thirty is his regular bedtime.” Sam twisted his wrist in order to look at his watch. “Seven-twenty-five. We’re right on schedule.”
“Okay, I’ll hold him another five minutes and then we can put him into bed.”
Their plan worked. Sam gently lifted Matthew out of her arms and noiselessly walked into the baby’s room and placed him in the crib. They stood looking down on him for several minutes, wanting to be sure he was fast asleep. Tiptoeing out of the room, they gently closed the door and then collapsed onto the sofa.
“I’m exhausted,” Beth said, leaning against Sam.
“Me, too.”
“Who knew taking care of a baby could be so demanding?”
Sam shook his head. “To think Rocco and Nichole do this every day, and from what I hear, Nichole is hoping to get pregnant again soon.”
“Are they nuts?” Beth asked.
“Apparently.” He tucked his arm around Beth, who snuggled up close to him.
“You were wonderful, Sam,” she said, yawning. “You’re going to be a great dad one day.”
Sam kissed the top of her head. She didn’t know what she was saying, didn’t know that he would have given anything to be a father to his daughter. He wouldn’t remind her, but he couldn’t help thinking it.
Beth fell asleep leaning against him, but Sam remained wide awake with thoughts of his daughter in the forefront of his mind. He put an end to all the might-have-beens before they overpowered him. Instead, he focused on Beth. Right away tension tightened his belly.
Beth. Sweet Beth. Who did he think he was kidding? This thing with her, whatever it was, had gotten well ahead of him. Everything was happening too fast. Watching her with Matthew and all of a sudden he was looking into the future, thinking about babies and everything that went along with being a family man. That wasn’t him.
Sam wasn’t looking to change his life. His enjoyed his freedom. One thing was for sure: he didn’t want his future tangled up with responsibilities. He liked the way things were pre-Beth.
Years ago, after Trish, he’d made the decision not to get involved in another relationship, and here he was with his arm around Beth and his heart and head tangled up in knots. He’d known the first night they’d met it wasn’t meant to be. They were completely wrong for each other. Beth’s mother knew it, too. One look at him had told Ellie Prudhomme what Sam already knew. He and Beth were all wrong together.
Yet here he was.
Something had to change and quick before he got in too deep, if he wasn’t there already.
Chapter 22
Beth
“How are things going with Sam?” Sunshine asked, as Beth and her aunt strolled the wide aisle of an indoor antiques market. Her aunt loved looking at things from the past, and Beth enjoyed accompanying her. Sunshine was a study in contrast. Her art was cutting edge and modern, and at the same time she savored reclaiming, restoring, and making new what was once discarded and old.
“Sam’s great.” Beth watched as her aunt walked over to a display of buttons. He had quickly become her everything. It frightened Beth sometimes when she thought about him. Their relationship seemed perfect, and instinct told her that perfection wouldn’t last. Soon they would hit a curve, and at the speed at which their relationship was progressing, they would either crash and burn out or find they could adjust and accommodate.
“First loves are special,” Sunshine commented, picking up a button and examining it. “They are the ones that mark us.”
Her aunt gave no further indication about her own first love, so Beth posed the question. “We never forget our first love, do we?”
“Never,” Sunshine agreed. She replaced one button and reached for a cloth-covered one, holding it in the palm of her hand. “I once read that during the Civil War women of the south would soak these cloth buttons in perfume and then sew them into the collars of their men’s shirts. That way the scent was a constant reminder of their loved ones waiting for them at home.”
“That’s so romantic.” Her mind automatically went to Sam and how dreadful she’d feel sending him off to fight with an uncertain future. Sewing one of her perfume-soaked buttons in his collar would mean as much to her as it would to him.
“Who was your first love?” Beth asked, venturing closer to the subject on her mind. She hadn’t given up the idea of finding Peter Hamlin, although she hadn’t pursued it as of yet. Sam’s words of caution had stayed with her.
Her aunt paused and a dreamy look came over her before she gently shook her head and then laughed, brushing off the question with a lighthearted response. “I had several.”
“Sunshine! Certainly there was one who stuck out in your mind more than anyone else.”
Her aunt increased her pace. “Of course there was,” she agreed, and then marched off, leaving Beth no choice but to pick up the pace in order to follow her.