Soon To Be Brides. Joan Elliott Pickart

run after mastering the walking bit.”

      “Tomorrow evening we go shopping for a crib and changing table,” Marsha said firmly. “Then come home and I’ll watch you put them together, Bud.”

      “That’s usually how those things go,” he said.

      “How about you, Caitlin?” Matt asked. “Could you use some help assembling your stuff?”

      “Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that, Matt. You’ve already gotten roped into hauling my luggage around once my arms are full of baby.”

      “Believe me, I don’t mind giving you a hand. Thanks to Bud, who used to be my friend, I have all my evenings free. I’m accustomed to putting in those hours at the hospital. You’d be doing me a favor by getting me out of the house, because I’ve forgotten how to turn on my television set.”

      “Well,” Caitlin said slowly.

      “It’s perfect, Caitlin,” Marsha said. “I’d suggest that the four of us go shopping together, but we never know what time Bud will get home. You two just go ahead and make your own plans. Oh, jeez, I’m supposed to be doing my hostess duties and seeing everyone to the door.” She got to her feet. “Wait, wait, Sally and Fred. Give me a chance to be polite. Bud, get off your tush and come with me to execute socially acceptable behavior.”

      “Whatever,” Bud said, rising.

      “Listen, try this idea,” Matt said to Caitlin as Bud followed Marsha to the front door. “We go out for pizza, shop for baby stuff, then go to your place and I’ll put everything together. Does that work for you?”

      Caitlin frowned. “I don’t think the big cartons that equipment comes in will fit in my car.”

      “I have an SUV and the back seats fold down. Problem solved.”

      “I don’t have any tools.”

      “I’ll bring mine. Shall I pick you up at your place about six tomorrow night?”

      “I…yes, all right. I appreciate this very much, Matt. I mean, you don’t even know me and here you are willing to perform manual labor to help me complete the nursery. It’s very generous of you.”

      Matt picked up one of the pictures of Caitlin’s daughter.

      “This little lady deserves to have everything ready and waiting for her when she comes home. Man, she’s cute. If she can grab hold of a person’s heart when she’s looking like a grumpy little old man, imagine what will happen the first time she smiles. Hey, Miss M., do you have any teeth in there to show off? How long are you going to make your mommy wait for that first smile, munchkin?”

      “Her first smile,” Caitlin said wistfully, then shook her head. “Don’t get me started again. I think the tissue box is empty.” She got to her feet. “I’ll give you my address and I’ll see you tomorrow night at six. Thank you again, Matt.”

      Matt stood. “I’m looking forward to it…very much, Caitlin.”

      After Matt had gotten Caitlin’s address, he watched as she collected the dish she’d brought her contribution to the potluck in, hugged Carolyn, tucked the precious pictures of the baby in her purse, then bid Marsha and Bud good-night at the door. Carolyn said her goodbyes, then Matt wandered toward the front door himself.

      “Need any help cleaning up?” he asked Marsha and Bud.

      “No, we’re fine,” Bud said. “It’s nice of you to give Caitlin a hand with the baby furniture, Matt.”

      Matt shrugged. “No biggie.”

      “Taking her out for pizza before you go shopping is a nice touch,” Marsha said, beaming. “You’re such a thoughtful guy, Matt MacAllister.”

      “No,” he said, frowning. “I just happen to like pizza and haven’t had any in a while.”

      “Mmm,” Marsha said, batting her eyelashes at him.

      “Don’t start with me, Marsha. There is no room for matchmaking in the middle of a baby boom, which is what this trip will be, so just forget it. Bud, control your wife.”

      “Fat chance of that, chum,” Bud said, laughing. “Wow. It just hit me. I’m going to have a wife and a daughter. Talk about being ganged up on by females in my own home.”

      “It makes my heart go pitter-patter,” Marsha said. “Women rule.”

      “I’m outta here,” Matt said, chuckling. “Thanks for a great evening. I really enjoyed it. Ah, life is full of challenges. Good night, new mommy and daddy.”

      “Oh-h-h, listen to that,” Marsha said. “I’m going to go find a fresh box of tissues.”

      Caitlin propped the two pictures of the baby against the lamp on the nightstand, then wiggled into a comfortable position in the bed where she could gaze at the photographs.

      “Hello, my daughter,” she said, unable to curb her smile. “Are you Mackenzie, or are you Madison, Miss M.? I just don’t know yet, but I will when I see you, hold you, for the first time. Will you smile then? Or make me wait for that special moment?”

      She kissed the tip of one finger, then gently touched each picture.

      “I wish you knew that I’ll be there very soon to get you. Maybe an angel will whisper in your ear that your mommy is coming. You won’t have a daddy, sweetheart, but we’ll be fine, just the two of us, you’ll see.”

      Caitlin turned off the light, sighed in contentment and drifted off to sleep within minutes.

      Hours later Matt was still awake, staring up at the ceiling. No matter how many lectures he gave himself to knock it off, he fumed, his mind kept replaying the entire evening at Marsha and Bud’s over and over. He saw the beautiful expression of pure love on Caitlin’s face when she’d looked at her daughter’s photographs, and remembered the tears that had glistened in both Marsha and Bud’s eyes as they’d gazed at the picture of Grace.

      What an unbelievable night it had been for the people in that room. Dreams were coming true for those who had waited so long to have them fulfilled. Incredible.

      Matt sighed and slid both hands beneath his head. He had been included in everything that had happened this evening but…not quite. Circumstances dictated that he stand on the edge of the circle of sunshine those match pictures had created, congratulate the new parents, wish them well.

      But none of those photographs declared him to be a daddy because that wasn’t his dream, his heartfelt desire, and he hadn’t completed the tons of paperwork and waited the seemingly endless months as the others had.

      He was grateful to have witnessed such happiness, such joy, was very honored to know he was to be Grace’s godfather, was pleased he would be helping Caitlin, the lovely Caitlin, put the finishing touches on the nursery that would be waiting for Mackenzie or Madison when she arrived in her new home.

      But… yeah, so okay, he was willing to admit that there had been flickers of chilling emptiness that had consumed him earlier. He’d been so aware of his… his aloneness, of the narrow focus of his life, had been forced to wonder if perhaps, just maybe, he was not only alone but might also be lonely.

      “Ah, hell, come on, MacAllister, knock it off,” he said, pulling his hands from beneath his head and dragging them down his face. “That’s nuts.”

      The structure of his existence was of his making, his choice. He was centered on a challenging and rewarding career at Mercy Hospital that gave him a great deal of satisfaction. Granted, it was a tad rough on his physical well-being, but he’d get a handle on that, take control of that aspect of it.

      Sure, he wanted a family someday, a wife, kids, a home bursting at the seams with love and laughter. He’d take part in the whole program…change diapers, teach each munchkin in turn to ride a bike, mow the lawn, take out the trash, help with home-workand housework