Page 3 of Not the Bodyguard's Baby
“I kissed September. That’s all. I knew I couldn’t keep my objectivity around her and that she wouldn’t be safe, so I quit the next day.” Or was fired. The words she’d said when he apologized for kissing her could be taken that way. September probably had a different take on that moment, which made giving him the baby even more confusing. “I haven’t even texted her in the past eleven months—” Harmony’s cry saved him from needing to say more. An unpleasant oder wafted through the room. “Hey, sis, I gotta go. Smells like I need to change a diaper.”
“Good luck.” The screen went black.
Adam held the baby with one arm and dug through the diaper bag with the other, pulling out a fresh diaper and a changing pad. He took his sister’s advice and knelt on the floor. “Okay, little one. How hard can this be?”
Adam pulled the baby’s pink leggings down to her ankles to discover the shirt was held in place by a row of snaps. Underneath that, he found an undershirt held in place by another row of snaps. “They didn’t design this for a fast removal, did they?”
The baby blinked up at him.
Adam released the fasteners on either side of the diaper and tried to slip it off, but the puffy disposable wouldn’t fit through her legs. Adam removed the baby’s little pink booties and leggings and tried again to remove the dirty diaper. Yuck. Was that color of orange even natural? Using seven baby wipes, he tried to follow his sister’s instructions. Someone tapped on his office door.
“Enter.” Adam turned to look at the door. At the same time, the baby passed more gas than a helium balloon along with more of the orange goop. Abbie had neglected to warn him that babies could launch projectiles from both ends, at least he had been prepared for the spit up. Perhaps at halfway through her pregnancy, she hadn’t learned yet.
Elle covered her mouth to stop a laugh. The young police officer next to her didn’t seem amused, but the older female officer attempted to hide a smile. She probably had more experience than he did in the child-changing category.
Something dripped down Adam’s cheek. Orange goop speckled his new shirt.
The baby made a satisfied cooing sound.
Elle dropped to her knees next to Adam, took a couple of wipes, and handed the box to Adam. “Let me finish this. Next time you try to change a diaper, be at the side of the baby. The officer needs to speak with you. I suggest you go wash up first.”
The officer stepped back into the hallway next to his partner, a female in her midthirties who didn’t even try to hide her smile now as Adam advanced. “If you will give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”
“Take all the time you need.” Laughter tinged the female officer’s voice.
The bathroom mirror told Adam what he already suspected. He needed a change of clothes. He stripped to the waist and started washing the best he could over the sink. The door behind him swung open to reveal his brother Andrew holding a new shirt, still in its plastic bag. “Elle, said you might need this. You sure you don’t want to go down to the workout room and use the shower?”
Adam shook his head and took the shirt. The security teams used navy polos with the wordsecurityemblazoned on the backs with the silver Hastings shield on the right sleeve for jobs where the appearance of being present provided a deterrent. At least the shirt was clean. Adam glanced at his watch. Not even 10:00 a.m. He hoped there were more shirts where this one came from. He wrapped his dirty blue dress shirt in the plastic bag and tossed it in the trash, along with the tie. Even if he could clean them, he doubted he would ever wear either again. Memories didn’t clean out in the laundry.
The officers were waiting in his office. The baby carrier sat empty on the floor. Adam held up a finger and backed out the door. He found Elle rocking the baby in the break room. She put her finger to her lips as he approached, and waved him away.
Adam returned to his office. “Sorry to keep you waiting. How can I help you?”
The female officer stood. “I think we have seen everything we need to see. We came to do a welfare check on Harmony Platt.” The officer next to her nodded.
His heart raced. They couldn’t take the baby away. “Officers, I assure you I can take care of her. What you saw—”
The female officer stopped him. “You misunderstand me. I am not worried about your diaper-changing skills. You’ll learn in time. You didn’t get sprayed nearly as badly as my husband the first time he changed our son.” She smiled. “When you returned to the room, the first thing you did was look for your daughter—the mark of a good father when he puts the welfare of his child above his own.”
The other officer stepped forward. “You had no idea why we were here but chose to ignore us until you knew where your baby was. I’ve been on many welfare checks where the parents wanted to impress me first. Those are the parents I worry about.”
Adam thought about correcting the officer as to his paternal status, but the fact that they were doing a welfare check on September’s child raised red flags he didn’t want to complicate. He’d rather not need to search for a baby lost in the system. “Thank you, Officers. September was rather vague when she dropped off the baby. Can you tell me where she is?”
The officers looked at each other, then back at him. “You mean she didn’t tell you where she went?”
“No, she didn’t.”Please don’t let her be into drugs—not this soon after a baby.
“I’m sorry, sir. We are not authorized to give out that information.”
“Can you tell me who asked you to do the welfare check?”
The younger officer’s eyes narrowed, and the female officer studied Adam before answering. “A social worker contacted us from the facility where the mother has self-admitted and is safe. I am sure someone will be contacting you soon.”
The young officer glared at his partner.
“Thank you for telling me. I won’t press you for more. Is there anything else you need?”
The female officer offered him her card. “I should be asking you that. I noticed the formula in the diaper bag. I am assuming from the explosive nature of the diaper that up until now your daughter has been breastfed. I wrote the name of a better brand of formula on the back you might want to try if she doesn’t like the one you are using. You’ll know if she spits up most of the formula that the brand isn’t working for her.”
