Baby Lessons

he or she takes care of the girls? It’s just part-time, while you sleep.”
“I’m aware,” Jack said, then took a long, fortifying sip from his coffee cup.
“Good. Either you hire the very next person who applies for the nanny job, or I’ll tell everyone at the station about your cute little pseudonym.” Wade slapped him on the back. “Don’t worry. You’ll thank me later. Deal?”
Jack nodded, only half paying attention, because his mind had begun to stray again. Apples tumbled through his thoughts and with them, a sublime ache. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be attracted to a woman, to wonder what it might be like to bury his hands in her hair and kiss her silly. He’d forgotten how good they smelled, especially this woman, like warm honey and apples...like home. He’d forgotten so damn much.
“Deal,” he said absently.
Ready or not, Jack Cole was starting to remember.
Seeing her rebuttal letter printed in the paper gave Madison a definite thrill.
Take that, Fired Up.
Sure, it was an unconventional approach to dealing with the problem, but the Lovestruck Bee had only itself to blame. Its mandatary print-every-letter-to-the-editor policy had finally worked in her favor. She was practically skipping through the office when Mr. Grant tapped her on the shoulder and told her he needed to speak with her in his office.
Her stomach lurched. As much as she liked her boss, being called into his office was never a good thing.
“Yes, sir.” She tightened her grip on her coffee cup as she followed him through the maze of desks toward his corner office overlooking Main Street.
Her mug was emblazoned with the words Busy Bee and featured a cartoon black-and-yellow honeybee zipping around with a pair of oversize glasses on its little bee face. It was part of the office kitchen’s collection of bee-themed coffee cups. The day before, she’d sipped her hazelnut blend from a mug that said Bee Happy. She hoped this morning’s Busy Bee message was a sign she wasn’t about to bee fired.
“Sit.” Mr. Grant waved a hand toward the worn leather chair opposite his desk.
Madison took a deep breath and sat down.
“I’m going to be honest,” her boss said, glancing out the window as he spoke. Across the street a few retirees were lined up in rocking chairs on the porch of the library. Farther down Madison could see the pristine brick exterior of the firehouse, Engine Co. 24.
Her gaze lingered on the fire truck parked out front, shiny and red, like a perfectly ripe apple. She wondered if Lieutenant Cole and his dreamy blue eyes were inside the building doing something heroic like sliding down a pole or walking around shirtless, covered in soot.
Or maybe he was off somewhere saving a kitten in a tree. Ugh, why did he have to be a firefighter? It made him infinitely hotter.
No pun intended.
Mr. Grant cleared his throat, dragging her attention back to the matter at hand—her possible imminent termination.
She squirmed in her chair. “Sorry. You were saying?”
“Right. Well.” He folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “I’m sure you know why I wanted to speak with you.”
The Busy Bee mug shook slightly in Madison’s hands. Coffee sloshed dangerously close to the rim. “This is about my letter to the editor.”
He shot finger guns at her. “Bingo.”
Her stomach took another tumble, but at the same time she realized Mr. Grant was smiling. Why was he smiling?
Her boss wasn’t exactly the smiley type, which meant this was either an uncommonly friendly firing or he actually had something positive to say.
“It was a brilliant idea,” he said.
“It was?” Madison sat up a little straighter. “Right. I mean, it was.”
“Positively brilliant.” Mr. Grant’s smile grew wider. “The phone’s been ringing off the hook all day. My email in-box is full. Until this morning I didn’t even realize such a thing could happen.”
“Do you want me to help you clear it out?” she said, still unsure where exactly this meeting was headed.
“What? No.” He shook his head. “I want you to keep it up.”
She blinked. “Keep what up, exactly?”
“Keep arguing with Fired Up in Lovestruck in the letters-to-the-editor section. The readers are eating it up.” He cupped a hand to his ear. “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of phones ringing out front. You have fans now.”
“Wow.” Madison’s throat clogged. She was fully aware this was just a small-town newspaper, not at all in the same league as a New York fashion magazine. But never once had she had this sort of praise heaped on her at Vogue.
It wasn’t terrible. In fact, it felt sort of awesome. She was surprised at how much Mr. Grant’s kind words meant to her. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything at the moment, because I haven’t gotten a new letter from Fired Up. Hopefully, I will. And when that letter comes, I want you to respond again. Got it?”
Madison nodded. “Got it.”
“Also, I still want you to spend some time with real-life kids. Your column needs to be good. Is that understood?” He jabbed his pointer finger onto the copy of the Lovestruck Bee spread open on his desk.
Madison was much more comfortable with this familiar, less effusive version of Mr. Grant. She nodded. “Absolutely. My aunt set me up with the library for story circle time on Saturday mornings, and tonight I’m attending knitting class in hopes of lining up a few babysitting gigs.”
Her boss grunted. “I don’t need the specifics. I just need you to turn in some good copy and keep arguing with Fired Up in Lovestruck.”
She could do that, especially the second part. In fact, nothing would thrill her more. “Yes, sir.”
Madison practically floated back to her desk, and she kept floating for the rest of the day, right up until it was time to walk next door for the baby booties class at Main Street Yarn.
“You look happy,” Aunt Alice said as she gave Madison a hug and a kiss on the