Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(82)

A workday and Robin was joining her? “You can do that?”

“I’ll take a personal day. The two of us will head to the mall and buy out the baby store.”

Libby could hardly believe that Robin would willingly take a day away from work, and then she started to giggle all over again.

Chapter 30

Robin held up a dainty pink dress and her heart felt like it was going to melt. It was incredibly cute. “You have got to get this,” she insisted and draped it over her arm along with the ten other outfits she felt were absolutely necessary for Libby’s daughter.

“Robin, I can’t buy all this stuff. Remember, I’m on a limited budget.”

“Maybe you are, but I’m not and I’m Amy Jo’s godmother.” Robin had been thrilled when Libby honored her by requesting she take on this special role in young Amy’s life. She took the responsibility seriously. In due course, when Amy Jo could read, Robin would purchase the little girl her first Bible. She’d see to it that Libby got her daughter to Sunday school, too. If Libby didn’t go then she’d escort the little girl personally. To Robin’s way of thinking every child needed a secure foundation in faith. Even if she personally hadn’t darkened a church doorway in years, she still considered faith important.

“I’m bushed,” Libby said, her face beaming with happiness, “not to mention out of money.”

Robin knew that Libby was anxious to get to the hospital to visit Ava and the baby. She’d already stopped by earlier that morning before heading out on their shopping expedition, and was eager to return. Robin didn’t know what time Libby had gotten home the night before but she realized it must have been late. In all the years she’d known Libby, Robin had never seen her friend so joyful, so excited.

Robin was genuinely happy for her. The joy seemed to spill over onto her as well. How could it not? Despite the disappointment she’d felt after Roy’s visit to her condo, she had become infected with Libby’s happiness. It felt good to dwell on someone other than the judge. She just hoped his late wife had appreciated how much he loved her.

Robin left Libby at around two that afternoon. Instead of going to the courthouse she returned to her condo. If she showed up at the office she was bound to be bombarded with work. That was the nature of the beast, working as a prosecuting attorney. Working from home would be less intrusive than going into the office. Answering a day’s worth of emails was sure to take her well into the late afternoon.

Once home, Robin kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of iced tea. After a couple of sips, she logged on to her computer. Just as she suspected, the emails started to roll in, filling up the screen. She tackled them one at a time until she felt fairly confident that she had a handle on the most pressing ones. Now, when she returned to the office on Wednesday, the list of demands wouldn’t overwhelm her.

Her doorbell rang. Libby for sure. Barefoot, Robin hurried to the front door, finding it amusing that they’d parted only a few hours ago and her friend was already back.

Only it wasn’t Libby.

For the second time, she found Judge Roy Bollinger standing on the other side of the door, clenching a white sack in his hand. He looked completely out of his element. Seeing her, the color seemed to drain from his face.

“Roy,” she whispered, shocked to see him. Her eyes went wide until she feared they would fall out of their sockets. Since their last encounter they had passed each other in the courthouse nearly every day and both had looked the other way, pretending … she didn’t know what.

“You’re not sick?” he asked, and it seemed to disappoint him that she was obviously in good health.

“No.”

“You weren’t in court,” he argued.

“I took a personal day.”

“Oh.” Roy thrust the white paper bag at her and seemed eager to turn tail and run.

Now that he was at her front door, she didn’t want him to leave. “What’s this?” she asked, delaying him.

He made a self-effacing smile. “Chicken noodle soup. I assumed you must be ill.”

“As you can see I’m perfectly fine.”

“I can see. And yes, you look just … fine.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Actually you look more than fine. You look wonderful.”

Compliments didn’t roll off Roy’s tongue the way they did for some men, but she couldn’t help but blush. “Do you want to come inside?” she asked.

He hesitated. Now that she held the sack, he buried his hands deep inside his pockets. “You’ve … never missed a day without being sick. Well, other than recently.”

“Until today,” she amended, and then remembered she had called in sick following their disastrous date. “I was out shopping with a friend.”

“A friend?” he repeated slowly, casting his gaze down to his feet. Apparently he assumed her “friend” was male.

“Libby Morgan, you met her the night we had drinks,” she said, clarifying the issue. She didn’t want to give him the impression she was seeing anyone else, because she wasn’t.

Just as quickly his eyes came back to meet hers and he visibly relaxed. “Of course, I know Libby.”

“She’s adopting a baby girl and she asked me to be the godmother. I helped her pick out what she needs for the nursery.”