Page 51 of The Guest Cottage
“I don’t know exactly. It was an older woman.” She braced herself and, as if she’d committed a mortal sin, confessed, “I lied and said I was Ms. Heddings’s sister.”
Oh, the irony. Marlow gave a huff of amusement.
“I had to,” Pixie said in a rush. “I’m sorry, but I hoped maybe you’d have an idea of a job I could do—”
“You can barely stay upright. How would you work? And what would you do with the baby? Child care is expensive.”
“I know.” Pixie blinked a few times but didn’t avert her gaze. “I went over and over the possibilities in that nasty little motel room. I counted my remaining money three times. Then I got that awful call and was told to steer clear of any job related to Heddings Holdings, and it . . .” Her jaw flexed. “It spooked me.” Her gaze nervously flicked to Cort but came right back. “I could do telemarketing, but I’d need my phone for that. I could be a virtual assistant, but that requires WiFi. I could work in a day care or something, but only if I could take Andy with me, and that wouldn’t solve the problem of needing gas money and diapers.”
“And food.”
Her chin hitched higher, her eyes got redder, but she didn’t cry this time. “I’m not proud, Ms. Heddings.”
“Marlow,” she automatically corrected as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. Odd as it seemed, she wanted to reassure Pixie, to offer a quick fix. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t solve the young mother’s problems. It would only put them on a very temporary hold.
“I am desperate. I know I have no right to be here, and I know this is a horrible invasion of your privacy. You must hate me, and God knows you have every right to. What I did is unforgivable, and ignorance is no excuse, or at least not a good one.”
“Calm down, or you’ll start coughing again.”
“I didn’t know what else to do! I couldn’t beg a total stranger for help. The only name I knew was yours, and I thought maybe since you’d cared for Dylan, you might care for his son, too.”
A last prayer, that’s what it had been for Pixie. Marlow saw it in her eyes. “I’d care for any baby, despite who his father might be.” The moment Marlow heard the words spoken out loud, all her defenses crumbled away. She was fighting the inevitable because she knew she couldn’t turn Pixie away. She certainly wouldn’t leave an innocent three-month-old baby without diapers or shelter.
She could, however, lay down some ground rules.
Hopeful, Pixie asked, “Does that mean you have an idea about what I could do?”
“Rest easy, Pixie.” Leaving her chair, Marlow went to the fridge and got out more juice. She stopped at Pixie’s side to refill her glass. “I’ll help you, but that doesn’t mean you’ll have an easy road ahead of you.”
“I don’t expect it to be easy,” she swore. “I’ll do anything, and I’ll work as long and hard as I need to.”
“Good. A single mother, especially one who is still ill, will have to be strong. That means you need to recover first.” She turned to Cort. “I assume you know the nearest medical facility?”
“I do.” With something bright and warm shining in his eyes, he stood. Right there in front of Pixie, he enfolded Marlow in his arms. “You’re amazing, babe. You know that, right?”
If he was too nice to her right now, she’d turn weepy as well. “I have a heart. Nothing amazing in that.”
He kissed her forehead, then let her step away. “I agree, a checkup with a doctor is a priority.”
Horrified, Pixie said, “I don’t have any money. And I’m sure I just need a little sleep.”
“Better if we know what we’re dealing with,” Marlow said. She was in take-charge mode now, using the same brisk manner she’d utilized in her work world. She decided what needed to be done, and then she made sure it happened. “You may need medicine, or a specific diet might be necessary while you’re recovering and nursing. I assume a C-section is major surgery, and with a hysterectomy?” It made her midsection hurt just to think of it. “It’s only been three months, and you’ve had a lot on your plate.”
Pixie shut down with a softly murmured, “Okay.”
“So a visit to the doctor first. I’m thinking we’ll start with a sick appointment to be sure you don’t have bronchitis or worse. The doctor can make recommendations from there.”
“There’s a walk-in clinic,” Cort offered, “but we should get there soon because they get busy by late morning.”
Surprise brought Marlow around to face him. “We?”
“I’ll be the chauffeur.” His eyes conveyed a message. “Plus, it might be a good idea if Pixie had someone with her when she saw the doctor, just to hear what’s said.”
Meaning he didn’t trust her to share the whole truth, or he was worried she was too rattled and overwhelmed to remember detailed instructions? There was also the fact that she was a stranger who’d just showed up. Marlow would bet Cort was motivated by all those considerations.
It wasn’t easy for Marlow to bend her brain around the idea that her husband had been unfaithful with this beautiful, very young woman, who now had brought her husband’s son toherfor help.
Pixie was a stranger to Marlow, so Cort’s suggestion made sense, and his company would be appreciated.
