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“Just for a few hours. New contract. I’ll be right back.”
He went out the side door to the garage and flicked the light on and off so he didn’t scare her. It was hot in the garage, but Katrina seemed as cool as if she was in air conditioning.
“Angela’s here. You about done?”
“Just finishing up. How’s baby boy?”
“Now that his queen is here, as quiet as a mouse. We need to figure out what it is about her that calms him down and get some of it.”
She pushed the car door open and handed him her computer.
“Ha! It would be easier to offer her whatever she wants to live with us. It’s too bad she’s career goal-oriented.”
“Forget it,” Dave said. “I don’t want a live-in cramping my sexual style.”
Swatting him in the gut, he grunted, laughing. He followed her back into the house where she changed, then gathered the gifts they were taking for the other children.
“Everyone ready?” Dave asked. “I’ll pull the car out.”
The trip to Bayou Cottage was quiet with baby David snoozing in the back.
“He’s so cute when he sleeps,” Katrina said mockingly.
Dave took her hand, wanting to kiss it, but with Angela in back, he controlled himself. They were rarely alone anymore; nanny Luanne was at the house when he got home at night. On the weekends it was Angela who had become part of the family. She had hinted about staying at Creole Cottage overnight, but Dave wasn’t ready to make her a permanent member, wanting a little privacy.
At Bayou Cottage, a similar situation unfolded with a toddler who ruled.
“Tina Marie Chastain, I’m going to beat your butt if you don’t lay still!”
The screaming cackle of a tired but thrilled one-year-old filled the cottage as her mother tried to get her to lie still on the living room rug to get her diaper changed.
“Justin, can you help?” Maggie cried.
She heard his boots on the porch and the squeak of the screen door. He crouched down at Tina’s head, gently holding her shoulders, and the toddler immediately stopped thrashing around so the diaper could be secured.
“Dada,” she said, grinning up at him.
“That’s my name,” he said, bending over to kiss Tina’s forehead.
“Thank you,” Maggie said, stretching to reach his lips when it was her turn for a kiss. “How’s everything out there?”
“Good. Come look when you’re ready.”
Preparations were underway for a one-year birthday party for Tina and for cousin David. The little ones, along with Annie’s sixteen-month-old Stevie, the leader, and Calista’s year-old twins, were hysterical to watch playing together. They were all walking and that meant running around the grassy yard between the cove and the cottage.
This made fencing an absolute necessity, and for the past three weekends, the Chastains and friends installed fencing that wouldn’t interfere with the comings and goings of the wild horse population welcomed to graze at Maggie’s cottage, but would contain toddlers. However, they had to be extra conscientious about picking up horse poop.
Once the little girl was dressed in appropriate party clothes—little denim overalls and the smallest cowboy boots made—Maggie led her outside to see the party scene.
“This is wonderful!”
The same rental company they had used for their frequent parties had erected a big party tent with tables and chairs. Everything had arrived and was functional, including a porta potty station delivered via boat by Gus, the dockmaster, who was also invited to the party.
“I’ll be back with Grace at one,” he called out, waving to Maggie.
A florist had arrived with balloons galore—not helium though because of the impact on the environment. A party planner who specialized in organized fun for toddlers busily prepared something out on the lawn with crepe paper streamers and a bubble machine.
There would be no clowns, petting zoo, or music at this party. It was a half hour of games—all one-year-olds had the attention span for—a ton of food, and playing in the fresh air. Maggie had hired four teen girls to help keep the toddlers safe, daughters of members of their wild horse group, who were frequent mother’s helpers at Bayou Cottage.
