Kiss and Run. Barbara Daly

“She’s going to make you two so happy.” Will couldn’t be having any problems with this sweet, motherly version of Muffy, couldn’t be thinking about divorce. And he couldn’t under any circumstances be thinking of giving up this beautiful baby. Cecily was trying really hard to feel happy for both of them.

      Muffy gave Will a smile that might even be called sappy. “We haven’t decided on a name yet, darling, but now I think I’d like to name her Cecily. Cecily,” Muffy said to the baby, “meet Cecily Connaught, the miracle woman who brought you into the world under the most terrible conditions—”

      “Well, no,” Cecily interrupted, made intensely nervous by the conversation and the thought of Will having a baby Cecily. “Not all dairy farmers keep their barns in—oof!” Will had grabbed her in such a strenuous hug that it took the breath out of her.

      “We sure will,” he said heartily. “We’ll name her Cecily. Maybe,” he continued as he released Cecily to give her a soulful look, “you would be her godmother.”

      “Oh, yes,” Muffy cried. “It would mean so much to us.”

      “I’m flattered,” Cecily said, her nervousness reaching the panic level, “but I—”

      “Thank you,” Will and Muffy said together, giving her oddly similar grateful glances.

      The telephone rang and Muffy reached for it. “Just a second,” she said, and put her hand over the mouthpiece. “It’s our friend Gator,” she said to Will.

      “You talk to him,” Will said. “I’ll take Cecily home and be back as soon as possible, sweetheart.”

      “Absolutely not,” Cecily said. She’d never felt as firm about anything in her life. She couldn’t stand another second in the confines of a car with Will. “I’ll call a taxi.”

      “No way!” Muffy said with a quick glance at Will. “What kind of manners would that be? I insist that Will take you back to the hotel.” She went back briefly to the phone. “Hang on, Gator. We’re having a little argument here.” She smiled. “I know. What else is new?”

      Cecily felt confused. Maybe they did argue a lot. Maybe Muffy was just being polite because Cecily was there. She stamped on the thought. She still couldn’t have Will. Period.

      “One more thing,” Will said. “I need to buy cigars and Cecily needs to do a little shopping, and when I take Cecily to the hotel, I’ll go ahead and register. You won’t mind if I’m not back for a couple of hours.”

      Now Cecily was having a full anxiety attack. “No, you don’t need to take me shopping—”

      “Take all the time you need, darling. Mom and Daddy will be along soon.”

      “And my mom and dad.”

      “Right. Your mom and dad, too.”

      Maybe that was the source of the tension, their parents.

      “So we’ll say goodbye.” Will stepped up to the bed and gave Muffy a peck on the cheek, then leaned way down to give the child—who was apparently going to be baby Cecily—a soft, gentle kiss. “You and I are going to be best friends,” he whispered.

      A tiny finger gripped his, and something intense gripped Cecily’s heart. She stepped up, too. “And I’m your godmother Cecily,” she said, wondering how the hell she was going to be a decent godmother to Will’s baby.