Chapter 31: Dell
When I get out of the shower, Carrie is watching the baby and Arianna has gone to pack.
This will be quite the journey. Me, Arianna, the baby. I have no idea how the confrontation with Winnie will go. I’m stunned by how she changed. At first I thought it was some trick of the tabloid. But image after image showed the dramatic transformation.
Did something that led her to give up the child cause it? Or just the act of relinquishing her?
I start to question the wisdom of taking the child to her. What if she wants her back? At least I have handled my end of the DNA. This could set up legal standing for me. Between her not informing me about the child’s birth and the subsequent abandonment, I stand a good chance at full custody.
Winnie will have lawyers too, of course, and good ones. She is a Hollywood darling. She enjoys having public flings with the A-listers.
I was just a small side trip. Our week in Paris was actually partly for her to come in contact with an actor there. Perhaps the one she attended the Emmys with a week later.
I didn’t follow up. I was in France to conduct business with the Duke of Attenbury, a grizzled beast of a man who had a wife he didn’t deserve. She was considerably older than my usual tryst, almost fifty, and I didn’t normally go near married women.
But something about her elegance intrigued me. She was shockingly naive about pleasure. I was happy to show her. As I told Arianna, I didn’t have a type. The Duchess had already raised four children. The oldest was almost thirty. Older than Arianna.
Perhaps I should stick to post-reproductive-age women from now on. Surely would save me my current hassle.
Which led me to another line of thought. Birth control.
I am a strict condom user except in very specific circumstances. So in order for Grace to have come from me, I must have missed a failure on that front.
Of course I wasn’t in the habit of checking them after the fact.
Bernard has already taken out my bags. They are partially packed, and stacks of clothing are on the bed awaiting confirmation of my preferred state of dress for the trip. There are jeans and designer shirts, suits and jackets, and even, I notice with a smile, a few combinations of jeans and athletic shirts.
I pick those up, plus a few of the more casual of the dress shirts, and place them in the bag. Then I head down to the nursery to see how Carrie might be coming on packing Grace.
The two of them are on a blanket spread on the floor. Carrie is showing Grace how to hold up her head. Grace is paying her no mind, her head bobbing up and down until it thunks heavily.
“She getting it?” I ask.
Carrie glances up. “She hasn’t done this a lot,” she says. “Spent a lot of time on her back or being carried.”
Grace starts to fuss, so Carrie rolls her over.
“What do you make of that?” I ask.
“Someone who doesn’t know much about taking care of babies,” Carrie says. “Either ignorant of it and without resources to find out. Or who just didn’t care.”
“Will she catch up?”
Carrie picks Grace up and lets her stand on her legs, much like Arianna did on the first day. “Oh, easily. She’ll strengthen those neck muscles in a few weeks.”
“Good.” I roll up the sleeves to the dress shirt. “How is her tummy?”
“Aren’t you the attentive father!” She helps Grace bounce up and down, making the baby laugh. “All good today. Activity like this helps. It could all boil down to the same thing, not enough of the right kind of movement. Her bowels could just be sluggish.”
Well, all right, then. I nod at her briskly. “I’ll leave you experts to it, then,” I say.
“Bernard is looking for some bags to pack her things,” Carrie says. “Just two days’ worth?”
“Make it three just in case,” I say. “But I expect to be back tomorrow.”
Carrie nods, making silly faces at Grace. “Okay, Dada!” she says, as if she is speaking for the child. We never did correct her on this or explain the situation. No point doing it now.
The front door slams, so I know it isn’t Bernard who closed it.
Arianna bursts into the room, looking flushed. “Okay, I’m here. Packed. I managed to race down to the store and pick up another type of formula.”
She stops when she sees me. “Oh, hello, Dell.”
“We’re fine on time,” I say to her. “Did Bernard get your bags?”
“Didn’t see him,” she says, patting her leather duffel. “This is all I brought.”
“That’s it?”
“Should I bring an evening gown?” Arianna juts out her hip just like that first day we met. She looks young and fresh in bright pink shorts and a light flowered peasant top. Between her beauty and her sass, I have to struggle to keep myself under wraps.
“We can pick one up if we need it,” I say, then realize both Arianna and Carrie are staring at me. “There are shops in Chicago.”
“I’m the nanny,” Arianna says, bending down and scooping up Grace. “We stay home while the crazy people party, don’t we?” She blows air on the baby’s neck, causing Grace to laugh like mad.
She’s right. She’s there for the baby, although the urge to see her in something decadent and glittery is strong.
“Here’s the new formula.” Arianna digs a canister from her duffel. “It should get us through.”
I leave Carrie and Arianna to their duties and head to the living room to brief Bernard.
After a moment, Carrie and Arianna bang down the hall with the baby and all their bags. Bernard rushes forward to help them. Arianna has Grace tucked back inside a purple wrap.
“Should we bring the stroller?” I ask. “The car seat?”
“Definitely the car seat,” Arianna says. “We’ll drive somewhere once we’re there.”
“It’s in the car,” Bernard says.
“She’ll need some bottles made up,” Carrie says. “I’ll go do it.”
Bernard looks stricken that someone else will be in his kitchen, but he is laden with all the bags.
“Here, Bernard,” I say. “I’ll take care of these. See to the bottles.”
He nods and leaves them at my feet. I shake my head. Four people to take care of a baby and still we can’t get it done.