Rainy Day Kisses. Debbie Macomber

should’ve realized she wasn’t much brighter than a brainless mouse, innocently nibbling away at the cheese in a steel trap.

      Emily sniffled once more, probably for effect, Susannah mused darkly.

      “We’ll be flying back to Seattle early Sunday afternoon. Robert’s got some business in San Francisco Saturday morning, but the rest of the weekend is free…and it’s been such a long time since we’ve been alone.”

      “Two days and two nights,” Susannah said slowly, mentally tabulating the hours.

      “Oh, please, Susannah, my whole marriage is at stake. You’ve always been such a good big sister. I know I don’t deserve anyone as good as you.”

      Silently Susannah agreed.

      “Somehow I’ll find a way to repay you,” Emily continued.

      Susannah closed her eyes. Her sister’s idea of repaying her was usually freshly baked zucchini bread shortly after Susannah announced she was watching her weight.

      “Susannah, please!”

      It was then that Susannah had caved in to the pressure. “All right. Go ahead and bring Michelle over.”

      Somewhere in the distance, she could’ve sworn she heard the echo of a mousetrap slamming shut.

      By the time Emily and Robert had deposited their offspring at Susannah’s condominium, her head was swimming with instructions. After planting a kiss on her daughter’s rosy cheek, Emily handed the clinging Michelle to a reluctant Susannah.

      That was when the nightmare began in earnest.

      As soon as her sister left, Susannah could feel herself tense up. Even as a teenager, she hadn’t done a lot of babysitting; it wasn’t that she didn’t like children, but kids didn’t seem to take to her.

      Holding the squalling infant on her hip, Susannah paced while her mind buzzed with everything she was supposed to remember. She knew what to do in case of diaper rash, colic and several other minor emergencies, but Emily hadn’t said one word about how to keep Michelle from crying.

      “Shhh,” Susannah cooed, jiggling her niece against her hip. She swore the child had a cry that could’ve been heard a block away.

      After the first five minutes, her calm cool composure began to crack under the pressure. She could be in real trouble here. The tenant agreement she’d signed specifically stated “no children.”

      “Hello, Michelle, remember me?” Susannah asked, doing everything she could think of to quiet the baby. Didn’t the kid need to breathe? “I’m your auntie Susannah, the business executive.”

      Her niece wasn’t impressed. Pausing only a few seconds to gulp for air, Michelle increased her volume and glared at the door as if she expected her mother to miraculously appear if she cried long and hard enough.

      “Trust me, kid, if I knew a magic trick that’d bring your mother back, I’d use it now.”

      Ten minutes. Emily had been gone a total of ten minutes. Susannah was seriously considering giving the state Children’s Protective Services a call and claiming that a stranger had abandoned a baby on her doorstep.

      “Mommy will be home soon,” Susannah murmured wistfully.

      Michelle screamed louder. Susannah started to worry about her stemware. The kid’s voice could shatter glass.

      More tortured minutes passed, each one an eternity. Susannah was desperate enough to sing. Not knowing any appropriate lullabies, she began with a couple of ditties from her childhood, but quickly exhausted those. Michelle didn’t seem to appreciate them anyway. Since Susannah didn’t keep up with the current top twenty, the best she could do was an old Christmas favorite. Somehow singing “Jingle Bells” in the middle of September didn’t feel right.

      “Michelle,” Susannah pleaded, willing to stand on her head if it would keep the baby from wailing, “your mommy will be back, I assure you.”

      Michelle apparently didn’t believe her.

      “How about if I buy municipal bonds and put them in your name?” Susannah tried next. “Tax-free bonds, Michelle! This is an offer you shouldn’t refuse. All you need to do is stop crying. Oh, please stop crying.”

      Michelle wasn’t interested.

      “All right,” Susannah cried, growing desperate. “I’ll sign over my Microsoft stock. That’s my final offer, so you’d better grab it while I’m in a generous mood.”

      Michelle answered by gripping Susannah’s collar with both of her chubby fists and burying her wet face in a once spotless white silk blouse.

      “You’re a tough nut to crack, Michelle Margaret Davidson,” Susannah muttered, gently patting her niece’s back as she paced. “You want blood, don’t you, kid? You aren’t going to be satisfied with anything less.”

      A half hour after Emily had left, Susannah was ready to resort to tears herself. She’d started singing again, returning to her repertoire of Christmas songs. “You’d better watch out,/ you’d better not cry,/ Aunt Susannah’s here telling you why….”

      She was just getting into the lyrics when someone knocked heavily on her door.

      Like a thief caught in the act, Susannah whirled around, fully expecting the caller to be the building superintendent. No doubt there’d been complaints and he’d come to confront her.

      Expelling a weary sigh, Susannah realized she was defenseless. The only option she had was to throw herself on his mercy. She squared her shoulders and walked across the lush carpet, prepared to do exactly that.

      Only it wasn’t necessary. The building superintendent wasn’t the person standing on the other side of her door. It was her new neighbor, wearing a baseball cap and a faded T-shirt, and looking more than a little disgruntled.

      “The crying and the baby I can take,” he said, crossing his arms and relaxing against the doorframe, “but your singing has got to go.”

      “Very funny,” she grumbled.

      “The kid’s obviously distressed.”

      Susannah glared at him. “Nothing gets past you, does it?”

      “Do something.”

      “I’m trying.” Apparently Michelle didn’t like this stranger any more than Susannah did because she buried her face in Susannah’s collar and rubbed it vigorously back and forth. That at least helped muffle her cries, but there was no telling what it would do to white silk. “I offered her my Microsoft stock and it didn’t do any good,” Susannah explained. “I was even willing to throw in my municipal bonds.”

      “You offered her stocks and bonds, but did you suggest dinner?”

      “Dinner?” Susannah echoed. She hadn’t thought of that. Emily claimed she’d fed Michelle, but Susannah vaguely remembered something about a bottle.

      “The poor thing’s probably starving.”

      “I think she’s supposed to have a bottle,” Susannah said. She turned and glanced at the assorted bags Emily and Robert had deposited in her condominium, along with the necessary baby furniture. From the number of things stacked on the floor, it must seem as if she’d been granted permanent guardianship. “There’s got to be one in all this paraphernalia.”

      “I’ll find it—you keep the kid quiet.”

      Susannah nearly laughed out loud. If she was able to keep Michelle quiet, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. She imagined she could convince CIA agents to hand over top-secret documents more easily than she could silence one distressed nine-month-old infant.

      Without waiting for an invitation, her neighbor moved into the living room. He picked up one of the three overnight bags and rooted through that. He hesitated when he pulled out a stack of freshly laundered diapers,