Their Accidental Baby. Hannah Bernard

      Stalemate.

      Laura gave up. “We’ll both go and take him with us, okay?”

      Laura had never before realized what a huge section of the supermarket was dedicated to babies and all their paraphernalia. Just the diaper racks seemed to stretch for miles. The selection was daunting. She’d never imagined all the factors that needed to be taken into account.

      “How much does he weigh?” She peered at a diaper package. “More or less than six pounds, do you think?”

      “More. Definitely more,” Justin said darkly, adjusting the baby on his shoulder. He was still behaving, gurgling and smiling, and hadn’t screamed once. It couldn’t last. It was just a matter of time before he realized that there was something very wrong with the world. If he didn’t realize it sooner, he most definitely would in a while, when he had two novices trying to change his diaper.

      “Okay. More or less than fifteen pounds?”

      Justin lifted the child up and hefted him experimentally. “Hmm…fifteen pounds sounds about right.”

      “That doesn’t help. One package is for babies who weigh ten to fifteen pounds, the other for babies weighing fifteen to twenty pounds. So which is it?”

      Without looking at the markings, Justin grabbed one of the packages out of her arms and tossed it in the cart. “This one.”

      Laura shrugged. “Fine.”

      “What more? We need bottles, don’t we? And formula?”

      “Definitely,” Laura chirped. “Unless you’re planning on breastfeeding him.”

      Three kinds of formula landed in the cart and he didn’t even pretend to smile at her brilliant wit.

      “What about baby food?” Justin asked, pointing at the opposite shelves. “That stuff in the jars? Do we need that?”

      “I don’t know when they start eating baby food. And we don’t know how old he is.”

      “We’ll just buy a few different jars, and see if he wants any of it, okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer before moving the cart to the baby food section.

      “Diapers, food. What else do babies need?”

      She gnawed her lip. “Wet-wipes? Pacifiers? Special soap perhaps?”

      “Sounds reasonable. A few toys, perhaps. And a teddy bear. There is a toy department around here somewhere.”

      “A teddy bear?”

      He looked at her defensively. “Every kid needs a teddy bear. Especially when all on his own without his folks around.”

      “You’re right.” She grinned. “I still have mine, sitting on top of the bookshelf in the bedroom. He even has both his eyes, but his front paw is bandaged. Do you still have yours?”

      “I didn’t have one. We’ll have to find a sturdy one for the baby.”

      “Yes.” She held her arms out for the baby, and pointed to a shelf too high for her to reach. “Get that lotion, please. Also the big box of wet-wipes over there. And you’re right, Patrick looks like an active boy. He’ll need a strong and sturdy teddy.”

      “Patrick? Why are you calling him Patrick?”

      “Well, we have to call him something, don’t we?”

      Justin stopped in the middle of the aisle, wet-wipes in one hand, lotion in the other. He stared at her with a look of warning. “Laura, don’t get attached to this baby.”

      “You’re warning me not to get attached? You’re the one who wants to risk imprisonment and a criminal record just to keep him with us.”

      “Shh!” Justin hissed, looking around to see if anyone had heard her. “Are you trying to get us arrested? At least I’m not giving him a name.”

      Laura’s arms tightened around Patrick. “I refuse to call him ‘baby.’ It dehumanizes him.”

      Justin shrugged, tossing the boxes into the cart. “Okay. We’ll call him Patrick. Why Patrick, anyway?”

      “He looks Irish. All this clothes are green.”

      “Irrefutable logic,” he remarked dryly.

      Patrick finally started crying on the way home. It wasn’t surprising, after all, the poor little guy hadn’t been changed, and hadn’t gotten anything to eat or drink since he’d woken up.

      “Maybe we should go to my apartment,” Justin suggested, turning to the right without waiting for her to agree. “It’s not as…There’s more…room there.”

      Laura rolled her eyes. “You mean less mess.”

      “That, too.”

      “I know, I live in a pigsty,” Laura sighed. “I’ve been working fourteen-hour days. I need a wife. I even had to go without underwear this morning.”

      Justin looked back at her and she blushed. “I’m wearing underwear now!” she stated. “I already told you, I bought some during my lunch break.”

      “Right.”

      Great. Now she had her hunky, baby-loving neighbor imagining her naked under her prim working suit. She disguised her mortification by looking around Justin’s apartment. It was a mirror of her own, but a lot neater than her own place had been in months. Yes, he had definite potential as a housekeeper.

      There was large microwave container sitting on a small stool by the front door. She raised an eyebrow. “Takeout?”

      Justin followed her gaze and shrugged. She even thought he looked a bit embarrassed. “I was going to take it to you, when you screamed. You looked hungry.”

      “You were going to bring me food?” Laura was touched. Something tearlike even made it to her eyes and she blinked, blaming it on exhaustion. “Justin, that’s so nice of you.”

      “Yeah, well, you still haven’t eaten, have you? It’s cold by now, but if you still want it, we can reheat it.” He grabbed the container and made his way into the kitchen. “It’s not like it’s anything fancy,” he warned over his shoulder. “Just leftover pizza.”

      “Homemade?” she breathed.

      “Well, yes. How did you know?”

      She dodged the question, not wanting to explain to him the way her nose had been picking up the wonderful scents from his kitchen for months now. “First things first, a bottle for the little one.” She looked at the child, squirming on Justin’s shoulder. “He’s really hungry. I’ll get the bottle, if you take care of him in the meantime. Where do you keep your kettle?”

      “It’s right there on the countertop. We’ll be in the living room.”

      She measured the formula carefully and before too long had a full bottle of warm white liquid. She tested the temperature and erred on the side of too cold, then hurried into the living room where Justin was busy being unsuccessful at calming baby Patrick down. “Here.”

      Justin passed her the baby. “Feed him. I’ll go warm up the pizza for you.”

      Patrick gulped down the milk, making Laura feel terribly guilty. The poor baby must have been starving.

      “Here. Eat this.” Justin put a plate on the table, filled with the most delicious pizza Laura had ever seen, topped with enough cheese to fulfill her calcium requirements for a month. He’d brought a huge glass of milk, too. She raised an eyebrow. “Milk? With pizza?”

      “It’s good for you. Give me the kid, and feed yourself.”

      Smiling at his gruff tone, Laura handed him the child and started work on the pizza. Ravenous, she managed to finish before Patrick finished his bottle. But as soon as the bottle was empty he