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“Don’t know because he doesn’t have a father. He was created with artificial insemination. He’s a test tube baby,” she said, lying, but the old biddy deserved her concocted story.
“Well, Mr. Landry certainly gave you a nice vehicle,” she said. “That’s top of the line. A man doesn’t buy that kind of car unless he owes a woman something.”
This was exactly the kind of prejudice she’d hoped to avoid.
“Thanks, but Blake owed me some money, and this way, I got a new car out of it instead of driving my beat-up jalopy.”
She hated lying to this nosy woman, but right now, she was prime suspect number one for sending Blake the letter.
“Wyatt is crying. You have a nice day,” she said and walked inside the apartment. Blake was due just anytime and she knew better than to tell him about finding the man trying to take pictures of Wyatt.
And yet, she had to protect her sweet precious baby. And she couldn’t trust Mrs. Anderson any longer. Right now she had three suspects, and with two of them, she’d be crushed if they had sent the letter.
Maybe she should add Mrs. Anderson’s nephew Cruz. It had been a while since she’d seen him.
Hurrying back into the bedroom, she gasped. Somehow Wyatt had come out of his diaper and he’d spread poop from one end of his bed to the other, plus he was covered in the stinky mess.
“Oh, son,” she said wondering if she was really cut out to be a good mother.
Blake was on his way to see his son, and she now had to bathe him, wash the sheets, and feed him before he became cranky.
Thirty minutes later, she sank down into the rocker and put the bottle to his lips. “You’re a stinker. A little rotten stinker.”
His hands reached up for the bottle and she could see that it wouldn’t be long before he would be grasping it. His large sapphire eyes gazed up at her with love and her heart melted.
Could they be in danger from these supposed reporters? Later today, she would move that ladder away from her bedroom window. On the second floor, she’d always felt safe, but this morning frightened her.
Would the press make her son’s life miserable? It wasn’t like they were royalty or anything. His father’s family had won a large sum of lottery money, that was all. And yet she also knew that Blake lived on a ranch that had security. Her apartment did not.
If she told him, he would have them moved out of here in no time. And yet she wanted to keep her son safe. What if they tried to kidnap him and hold him for ransom? She didn’t have the money to get him back.
On Monday, she was going to warn the daycare they needed to watch him very closely.
Just then a knock sounded at the door. Normally, she would glance through the peephole and answer it, but today, she peeked out a window in the living room. She needed to make certain there were no other people on her doorstep besides Blake. Still holding a very sleepy Wyatt in her arms, she went to the door.
Quickly, she undid the locks and let him in.
“Good morning,” he said. “How’s the baby?”
Glancing down, she saw that Mrs. Anderson was in the parking lot smoking a cigarette, gazing up at her.
She gave her a big grin and then a salute.
Cristina took Blake by the arm and pulled him inside. “Get in here. One of my neighbors is being nosy. She might be our letter writer.”
A frown appeared on his face. “What makes you think that?”
“Today, she told me that her nephew, who was living with her eighteen months ago, recognized you going into my apartment that night. Nine months later, I had Wyatt and he thinks he’s your son.”
He ran his fingers through his dark hair and sighed. “Maybe it’s time for you to move.”
“No,” she said feeling defensive. The thought of someone causing her to move irritated her. “Not yet. Not until I’m ready and Wyatt is a little older.”
For once, he didn’t say anything, but just gazed at his son.
“He’s asleep,” he said.
“Yes, he’s had an active morning,” she said laughing.
