or the sudden laughter that would light her face at his occasional wry comment.
He wasn’t much of a conversationalist himself. Being unable to talk about his job for some reason made him more reticent about other things, as well. But with Libby, that hadn’t been a problem. She’d been fascinated by his stories about his family and how it had been growing up in a small town. Conversation between them had just flowed.
Del scowled. Hell, they hadn’t only been lovers during that snowstorm, they’d also become friends. He wanted to restore at least a little of the rapport they’d had on his last visit and this was one of the only opportunitieshe’d had to be alone with her without Christine hovering about somewhere.
Libby put down the magazine and he looked up hopefully. Without a word she stepped over his legs and headed into the rest room.
Del heaved a long-suffering sigh.
The man sitting across from him must have heard it. Pushing his glasses higher on his nose, he leaned closer, asking, “This your first?”
Del looked at him, then nodded.
“Ours, too,” the man said and thrust out a hand. “I’m Ken. Ken Patterson.”
Del accepted the proffered handshake as Ken indicated the blonde sitting demurely beside him. She nodded graciously at Del as her husband added dramatically, “And this is Barbie.”
Ken beamed expectantly. Del regarded him blankly, and the other man’s smile faded. “Don’t you get it? Ken and Barbie. You know. Like the dolls?”
“Oh, yeah. Cute,” Del said and then stared at the bathroom door. What the hell was taking Libby so long? Was she sick?
Ken started talking again, interrupting his train of thought. “Our baby is due in October.” Both Pattersons glowed with pride, as if, Del thought, they were the only ones who’d ever had a baby.
Barbie added, “So when is your-wife due, Mr.?”
“Delaney. Del Delaney,” he answered automatically, then paused. Strangely reluctant to admit Libby wasn’t his wife, Del compromised, saying, “Libby’s not due for another six weeks.”
Ken’s face sharpened with interest. “Hey, we’llprobably be in the same childbirth class. You have signed up, haven’t you?”
Had Libby signed up? “I’m not sure,” Del admitted. Ken looked surprised and Barbie’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rose. Del added a little defensively, “I just got back in town. I’ve been out of the country.”
The other man’s expression cleared and Barbie leaned forward, saying graciously, “I’m sure your wife is thankful to have you back.”
Not hardly, Del thought.
“What are you having?” Barbie asked. “A boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” Del said decisively.
“Oh. We’re having a boy,” Barbie said, the faintly superior note in her voice annoying Del no end. “We decided to have a boy first, and then maybe a little girl.”
Something in her tone made it sound as if having a girl first was entirely the wrong decision—as if their boy was somehow superior to his girl. Del stifled a snort. As if any child these two could produce would even come near to the superior offspring Libby was carrying.
He picked up a magazine, pretending to be engrossed in the article “Breast or Bottle: How to Decide” so that the Pattersons would leave him alone. The ruse worked.until Libby returned. No sooner had she sat down again than Barbie leaned forward to say commiseratingly, “It gets pretty tiring, doesn’t it? Running to the rest room all the time.”
“It sure does,” Libby agreed.
Encouraged by this response, Barbie added, “Yourhusband was just telling us your baby is due in October, too.”
“He’s not my husband,” Libby replied promptly—to Del’s vast annoyance. “This is my landlady’s brother. He just gave me a ride here.”
Del grimaced behind his magazine. Not only had she jumped to correct the “husband” mistake, she couldn’t even define him as a friend. “My landlady’s brother.” He sounded like some kind of
He wasn’t much of a conversationalist himself. Being unable to talk about his job for some reason made him more reticent about other things, as well. But with Libby, that hadn’t been a problem. She’d been fascinated by his stories about his family and how it had been growing up in a small town. Conversation between them had just flowed.
Del scowled. Hell, they hadn’t only been lovers during that snowstorm, they’d also become friends. He wanted to restore at least a little of the rapport they’d had on his last visit and this was one of the only opportunitieshe’d had to be alone with her without Christine hovering about somewhere.
Libby put down the magazine and he looked up hopefully. Without a word she stepped over his legs and headed into the rest room.
Del heaved a long-suffering sigh.
The man sitting across from him must have heard it. Pushing his glasses higher on his nose, he leaned closer, asking, “This your first?”
Del looked at him, then nodded.
“Ours, too,” the man said and thrust out a hand. “I’m Ken. Ken Patterson.”
Del accepted the proffered handshake as Ken indicated the blonde sitting demurely beside him. She nodded graciously at Del as her husband added dramatically, “And this is Barbie.”
Ken beamed expectantly. Del regarded him blankly, and the other man’s smile faded. “Don’t you get it? Ken and Barbie. You know. Like the dolls?”
“Oh, yeah. Cute,” Del said and then stared at the bathroom door. What the hell was taking Libby so long? Was she sick?
Ken started talking again, interrupting his train of thought. “Our baby is due in October.” Both Pattersons glowed with pride, as if, Del thought, they were the only ones who’d ever had a baby.
Barbie added, “So when is your-wife due, Mr.?”
“Delaney. Del Delaney,” he answered automatically, then paused. Strangely reluctant to admit Libby wasn’t his wife, Del compromised, saying, “Libby’s not due for another six weeks.”
Ken’s face sharpened with interest. “Hey, we’llprobably be in the same childbirth class. You have signed up, haven’t you?”
Had Libby signed up? “I’m not sure,” Del admitted. Ken looked surprised and Barbie’s perfectly plucked eyebrows rose. Del added a little defensively, “I just got back in town. I’ve been out of the country.”
The other man’s expression cleared and Barbie leaned forward, saying graciously, “I’m sure your wife is thankful to have you back.”
Not hardly, Del thought.
“What are you having?” Barbie asked. “A boy or a girl?”
“A girl,” Del said decisively.
“Oh. We’re having a boy,” Barbie said, the faintly superior note in her voice annoying Del no end. “We decided to have a boy first, and then maybe a little girl.”
Something in her tone made it sound as if having a girl first was entirely the wrong decision—as if their boy was somehow superior to his girl. Del stifled a snort. As if any child these two could produce would even come near to the superior offspring Libby was carrying.
He picked up a magazine, pretending to be engrossed in the article “Breast or Bottle: How to Decide” so that the Pattersons would leave him alone. The ruse worked.until Libby returned. No sooner had she sat down again than Barbie leaned forward to say commiseratingly, “It gets pretty tiring, doesn’t it? Running to the rest room all the time.”
“It sure does,” Libby agreed.
Encouraged by this response, Barbie added, “Yourhusband was just telling us your baby is due in October, too.”
“He’s not my husband,” Libby replied promptly—to Del’s vast annoyance. “This is my landlady’s brother. He just gave me a ride here.”
Del grimaced behind his magazine. Not only had she jumped to correct the “husband” mistake, she couldn’t even define him as a friend. “My landlady’s brother.” He sounded like some kind of
Similar Books
