Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(44)
It was a feeling he never remembered having, even after coming under Jonas Kensington’s protection. He was too old by that time to ever fully trust. Part of his pro bono giveback was serving as a court advocate for foster kids, and too many times that wariness in their eyes he knew so well had taken him back to the less family-friendly parts of his childhood.
But suddenly, weirdly, that elusive feeling of safety was something he really wanted to give a kid. If that kid was adopted, he’d learn he didn’t have to feel that feeling again. Or, if he came from something Ben and Marcie made, it’s be something he’d never feel at all.
He jumped like he’d been hit with a Taser as someone touched his arm. It was an attractive middle-aged redhead in low pumps, slacks and blouse. She had a pleasing scattering of freckles over her fair-skinned face.
“Sorry,” the woman said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. “I was just trying to get into the store.”
“My bad,” he said gallantly, holding the door for her. Perhaps she was picking up something for a baby shower or a friend. Or she could be shopping for her own. Savannah was middle-aged, after all, having had Angelica later in life.
He entered after the woman, registering the chime on the door that announced their arrival. It was created by a cluster of tiny silver baby rattles, dangling from the ceiling above the door. The disturbed air currents inspired their music.
The boutique had a dozen displays that featured samples of their baby clothes, accessories, toys and miscellaneous little people stuff. A glass case offered earrings for babies with pierced ears, hair jewelry, and the option of converting your baby’s hospital wrist band to a silver or gold band.
When he noted one particular area of the store, Ben recalled his earlier conversation with Dana. He found her with the knot of women, examining a million styles of baby shoes. His quick glance registered the Ferragamo baby line. Jesus. Three-figure priced shoes for someone who couldn’t yet walk, let alone appreciate that they were wearing Italian leather versus Walmart vinyl. God bless America.
He gripped Dana’s elbow and drew her away. “I found something I want to show you.”
“What?” She dragged her feet, playfully. “I was feeling all the cool shoes.”
“Only because some of them come in your size and you thought you could get a discount if they were kid-sized. Trust me, I looked at the prices. You can’t.”
“You’re such a jerk. What is this?” She put out her hands as he brought her close enough to the shelves in the section to feel their contents.
“It’s all the safety stuff. Gates, proximity and motion alarms for the doors, you name it. There’s even a monitor you can put on your kid to keep track of his breathing, heart rate, mood. A sighted parent could take a nap, go to the grocery store, whatever, and the kid would be perfectly safe.”
Dana grimaced at the exaggeration, but she took the monitor box when Ben put it in her hands. He rattled some other things hanging on the hooks. “There are locks to keep them out of cabinets, rooms, and other places parents don’t want them to go. And whatever these folks and Toys-R-Us don’t have, you know Jon can create. You want him to do it, he’ll figure out how to put the kid in some kind of hamster wheel bubble that can withstand water immersion, nuclear blast and harmful TV influences. Oh, and it will have interactive computer programming stuff, so your baby will be talking full sentences and ready to apply to Harvard by age three.”
“You are such an idiot,” she said, but she had a smile on her face.
He slid an arm around her, squeezed. “But there’s one thing that this place doesn’t have to protect your kid,” he said. “I think it’s a much more serious issue, particularly if you’re going to have one the watermelon-through-a-straw way.”
“What’s that?” Despite the outrageous metaphor, he’d made his tone so sober, a trace of alarm crossed her face.
“Given Peter’s ugly mug and grotesque size, combined with your petiteness, have you thought of the DNA combo? You could have a girl that looks like a Saints linebacker. Or a boy the size of a leprechaun, but topped with a bowling ball head like Peter’s. They’ll be mutants.”
“He or she will be beautiful, no matter what they look like,” she said staunchly.
“Oh sure. They say a mother’s love is blind, but in your case, it’s a double whammy.” He laughed and ducked away as Dana aimed a pretty powerful swing toward his head. “Hey, feel this. Stuffed animals. So soft you could sleep in a pile of them.” He filled her hands with a chick, lamb and bunny to thwart further violence.
Marcie came to them as Dana was pelting him with the stuffed creatures. She caught one of them, thrusting what she had into Dana’s now empty left hand. “Look at these tiny little spoon and bowl things.”
As Peter’s wife reflexively cooed over them in delight, Ben grinned. Marcie made a face at him, but continued to explain, in a marveling tone. “You can buy a whole infant-sized china set. They even sell it in sets of six for a baby birthday party.”
Ben rolled his eyes. “Why throw a birthday party for a kid not even old enough to know what it’s about?”
“It’s for the parents more than the baby,” Rachel explained, joining them to examine the items. “But a baby reacts to the happy people around her or him, all that love, the celebration of it.”