Scrambled Babies Read online

  Scrambled Babies

  by Babe Hayes

  cover artwork by Laura Pidgeon

  [email protected]

  The story contained in this book is a work of fiction. Characters, companies, organizations and agencies are either a product of the authors’ imagination or used fictitiously without any intent to describe their actual conduct/product.

  For more information about the authors, visit: nortonauthors.com

  or email: [email protected]

  SCRAMBLED BABIES

  A Romantic Comedy

  ...That beautiful winged youth whom some call Cupid and others Love, against whose arrows there is no defense, neither in heaven nor on earth.

  —Apuleius, second century a.d.

  Prologue

  Their eyes met! Locked! She felt a brief twinge, as if something piercing but honeyed had entered her heart.

  Zoom! Ka-bam! Pow! Ding-ding-ding! Ahhh!

  Magically, she rocketed into orbit with him.

  They zoomed past fantasy moons and explored uncharted planets.

  They were fireworks, their bodies exploding into a million fragrant flower petals.

  She shuddered in ecstasy.

  They mingled and melted and molded, drifting back to earth as a divine single being.

  One of the wonderful mysteries of life!

  Chapter 1

  Oh, my god! This isn’t my baby!

  Paeton McPhilomy was on a jet headed for Los Angeles with her two girls, six years and three months old. She had rushed to the restroom to change her little girl whose cry had sounded unfamiliar. She attributed the strangeness to being in a pressurized cabin thirty-thousand feet in the air. She had just pulled off the blanket covering her baby girl when she realized this infant wasn’t hers! The amazing thing was that to a stranger, this baby could have passed as hers. They could be twins to unfamiliar eyes. When Paeton opened the diaper, another big shock—Paeton beheld male genitalia! Her baby was a girl! A jarring cry escaped her lips. The infant’s wide eyes popped wider in response.

  She stood still, her every muscle holding its breath, hovering over the baby in the first-class restroom of the cruising jetliner.

  She blinked several times. Nothing changed.

  Paeton was cruising at thirty-thousand feet about to change the diaper of a baby who wasn’t hers!

  Knock, knock! Someone was tapping on the restroom door. Paeton’s stomach lurched. “Who—who is it?”

  “This is your flight attendant. I thought I heard a cry. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do?”

  Paeton, trembling, clung to the closed toilet lid, struggling to make speech come. “No. No, thank you. I, uh, just, uh, just poked myself. Everything’s fine,” she lied.

  “Okay. I’m right outside if you need any help.”

  “Thank you,” Paeton tried to keep her voice from wavering. She felt as if her brain had been given a shot of pain-killer. She stared at the boy baby through watery eyes. She bit her lip. Where is Kelsey? Is she safe? Should I call the police? What should I—?

  Then it hit her: the airport—children racing around her—feeling herself bumped—losing her balance—a man carrying a baby in a travelseat—

  Yes! That’s it! This time the image came clearly into focus—it was definitely at the airport! Yes! Thank god! John F. Kennedy International! Her confidence was building. Of course. That guy I bumped into in the three-piece silk suit. We mixed up our babies at the airport! She remembered noticing that he held a Bloomingdale’s childseat and blanket with tiny animals on it—identical to hers!—as she approached him boarding her plane for L.A. She also remembered thinking his vest was too tight.

  Yes, that’s how it happened. Those unruly children knocked me into too-tight-vest, and we scrambled the babies.

  Oh, thank you, god! She was now able to re-create the entire incident. Those children, chasing around, knocked her into him. He was wearing an Armani silk suit—with the vest too tight. She managed to set Kelsey’s travelseat down before reaching out and catching too-tight-vest’s arm to keep her balance. He had also set his childseat down to catch Paeton.

  Gradually, surely, she could feel her pulse beating more normally, her breath coming easier. Her arms began to tingle, a sign they were regaining sensation.

  The simple explanation for this bizarre occurrence was that each party to the collision had picked up the wrong, yet identical, travelseat in the confusion.

  But when the rest of her body tingled in response to what she knew was also significant in causing the scrambled babies, she felt her face grow hot.

  When she lost her balance, set Kelsey down, and grabbed too-tight-vest’s arm, she saw stars! But it wasn’t the impact of hitting him that made them come out. It was the peering directly into his eyes—the demon eyes of too-tight-vest! As the two lingered in their gaze, she remembered a brief twinge, followed by a feeling of sensuous honey spreading throughout her body. She remembered a sweet taste in her mouth. She had quivered uncontrollably. Had he noticed? No, he couldn’t have—his eyes were riveted to hers as well.

  She had not felt that delicious in that many places in years—maybe ever. Simultaneously, she felt a twinge of guilt. Kevin had been dead only seven months.

  Nevertheless, knowing the cause of her extraordinary discovery offered immediate comfort. She was now quite certain that both children were safe. Nonetheless, Paeton and too-tight-vest were still left with the undoing of the clumsy and embarrassing error. Without media coverage! Paeton hoped. She didn’t know how the public would look upon the fact that the babies’ faces were covered. Would the masses even believe that fact in the first place?

  The thought of the nation finding out that she boarded a jet with the wrong child, even though both babies had been completely covered under the Zoo Kingdom blankets, gave her a queasy stomach. The restroom disinfectant odor intensified her nausea.

  She stood up and viewed the male infant who was looking up at a strange person. She managed a tender laugh, in spite of her emotional chaos, seeing his helpless exposure to the elements, his patient waiting for a new diaper.

  She decided she could do something positive by finishing changing the foreign, yet entirely familiar, baby. She pictured Kelsey. Not only were their travelseats and matching blankets identical, but also, except for their gender, the two babies could have been identical twins! She shivered slightly viewing the uncanny resemblance. Aiiii! A terrifying thought struck her—the striking resemblance of the babies would cause the public to believe she didn’t recognize her own child! If only the baby had been overtly different—black or Hispanic or a bright redhead! But the amazing resemblance would make her story of Kelsey’s face being covered by the blanket appear a weak excuse for the mix-up. The public would believe that neither she nor too-tight-vest had known their own babies! She felt as though she had just been punched in the stomach!

  Was she in trouble? Was this a huge problem, or simply an honest mix-up? What would people believe? That was the blazing question.

  Now it was clear why she had sensed a difference in the baby’s cry when the child needed changing. She had attributed her response to the effect of the altitude on her ears or to the stress of the day, taking both daughters to Los Angeles for her first screenwriting job. But the real reason was it wasn’t Kelsey!

  The good news was she had a clearer picture of her dilemma. The bad news was the logical explanation for the baby-switch did not in any way diminish her frustration about the situation and her anger at herself. Another sound erupted through her clenched teeth. The little boy did start to cry.

  “Oh, honey, don’t cry. I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you.” Paeton felt guilty again. Guilt appeared to be the emotion “au jour.” She picked up the child, cu
ddling him to her shoulder. He quieted immediately. “I’m sorry. You don’t even know who I am, do you? And you’ve been so good.” She couldn’t repress an inner smile. “And your daddy has been so bad!”

  Paeton McPhilomy! She was appalled at her reflexive response to the incident. But, hard as she might try, there was no way she could deny the pleasure she had recently shared with “daddy.”

  Grow up! Where is this high-school-girl reaction coming from? She felt she was acting like the love-struck teenager who must have scrawled that purple magic-marker heart she noticed on a seat near where she and too-tight-vest collided. Grow up! she repeated to herself. This whole mess is the result of your getting taken in by a pair of amazing—no, magnificent—there you go again!

  She felt her face flush. She knew she had never relinquished those incredible eyes as she flailed around to pick up what she thought to be Kelsey in her seat. Let’s face it, she could have paid more attention to picking up her child.

  Her eyes gently meandered over the child’s face again. Paeton’s heart bumped wonderfully! His eyes! Good god—his eyes are his daddy’s eyes! Her thoughts gamboled to that sweet moment once more. Her body felt immediately delicious again!

  She felt a frown forming as she finished changing the diaper. This was not the Paeton McPhilomy she thought she knew—to respond so totally to a random look from a strange male. “There you go, you little imp.” Was she referring to the tiny boy or to his father? She was baffled by her irrepressible, adolescent response to too-tight-vest.

  But no matter how strictly she tried to manage her mind, she found herself unable to deny how that gaze had overpowered her—in spite of the accompanying guilt and anger!

  Suddenly, her eyes clouded. Kelsey! My precious baby! Can you forgive me? You are safe, aren’t you?

  Adrenaline surged. Her heartbeat escalated again. Her arms, which were fine a moment ago, began to lose feeling. Please! No! But she had to face the fact that she would not be able to relax until she had Kelsey safely in her arms! Until both babies were where they belonged!

  She had to call the authorities. Maybe the media would find out; maybe they wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. She had to have Kelsey back—and as soon as possible!

  A tear of frustration ran down her cheek. Her clamped jaws were aching. Paeton detested feeling helpless! She had spent her life becoming an “in-charge woman.” She had always created and followed her own program. Flying to California with someone else’s baby and feeling like a crush-crazed schoolgirl was most definitely not her program!

  She picked up the infant rather abruptly, and the little tot whimpered slightly. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be taking out my frustrations on you. I could wring your father’s neck though.” She returned to her seat, the baby at her side.

  As she fastened their seatbelts, she had every intention of asking the flight attendant for a skyphone so she could call the police. Paeton turned to locate her. She had to call. She would call now that she had the whole incident clearly in her mind. The two collided. Both childseats identical and covered with identical Bloomingdale’s Zoo Kingdom blankets that reached the ground. In the confusion of the collision, and the rush to board her flight she was already late for, she picked up the wrong baby. They both did. The plane took off, the baby still covered. She heard it cry after take-off and took it to the restroom to change it. She attributed the foreign cry to jet noise and pressurized ears. Yes. Anyone could make the same mistake. It wasn’t that she didn’t know her own baby—

  “Mommy, where’s Kelsey? Who is this baby?”

  “What do you mean, Maddy?” Oh, my god, Maddy knows the difference! But of course, she does! It’s her sister! She knows and feels everything about her. How in the world was she going to explain this to Maddy without everyone around becoming alerted to the situation? How do I deal with this?

  “Uh, let’s all go the restroom, Maddy.”

  “But I don’t have to—“

  Paeton undid Middy’s seatbelt and gently moved her into the aisle. “Just come with me, please.”

  Inside the restroom, Paeton sat Maddy on the toilet lid. “Honey, there’s been a mistake.”

  “Mistake?”

  “Yes. Uh, Kelsey is with that man I bumped into at the airport. He had his little boy in a seat just like ours. Somehow we mixed up the seats, and now he has Kelsey, and we have his baby.”

  “So when do we get her back?”

  How do you explain all this to a six-year-old?

  Well, that’s the problem. We have to be careful—“

  “We can call someone. They have telephones on the plane. We can call the man and tell him to give Kelsey back. And we can give him his baby at the same time.”

  “Yes, that would be something we could do. But it’s not as simple as that. You see, a lot of people wouldn’t understand.”

  “What wouldn’t they understand? Seems simple to me.”

  “Yes, I know, honey. But, you see, I am a famous and—you have to trust me, Maddy. I will figure it out. Kelsey is safe. The man is a lot like us. He shops at Bloomingdale’s like we do. So he will take care of Kelsey like we will take care of—“

  “What’s his name?”

  “We don’t know that yet, honey. We will have to—what will we have to do? Fred! That’s it! We have to talk to Fred. He’ll know whether a simple phone call to the police or whoever will solve this. He’ll know if we have to worry about what the public might think. “We’ll have to call Fred, Maddy. He’ll help us. He’ll know what to do. And Maddy, look at me. This is important! This is a very big secret! Do you understand? Very big! Nobody can know we have the wrong baby!”

  “A very big secret. Okay. I can keep a very big secret.”

  Paeton gave Maddy a kiss. “Thank you, honey. You are the best girl a mommy could have. We’ll get Kelsey back very soon. But she is safe. I promise you that.”

  “Okay, mommy. Can I go play my game now?”

  “Yes, honey. We can go back to our seats now.”

  As Paeton fastened her seatbelt, she wondered how long it would be until too-tight-vest reported the mix-up. What did he have to worry about? He wasn’t famous. He wasn’t being nominated for Single Mother of the Year as Paeton was. Thank heavens we’re in the air and won’t be getting any news of what’s going on down there. Maybe there’s already a bulletin out looking for this child. An Amber alert! She shuddered at the thought. Well, no calling the authorities now. Better call Fred to see what we do after the whole country knows I have someone else’s baby.

  “Mommy, are we almost there?”

  Paeton checked her watch. She had lost all track of time. It was eleven twenty-five! They had been in the air only fifteen minutes! She had more than four hours left! She felt as if she had been flying for eons! “No, Madison. We have quite a while yet. Don’t ask me that for the rest of the flight, please. Play your video game.”

  Madison sighed heavily. “Oh-kaay,” she drawled.

  “Where is that flight attendant?” Paeton heard herself saying out loud. “I’ve to get hold of Fred.”

  “May I help you, ma’am?” Suddenly there she was.

  “May I please make a phone call?”

  #

  Paeton had scheduled a million things to do the Saturday before she left for her meeting with her producer in Los Angeles. One of those things was to get Kelsey, her three-month-old daughter, a childseat and traveling paraphernalia for their trip.

  Bloomingdale’s buzzed with its normal Saturday morning flurry of customers as Paeton spun through the revolving door and headed for the children’s section. She was the kind of woman who caused men to stop whatever they were doing and follow her with their eyes. First, she had a confident mien to her gait. She stood five ten in three-inch heels, which she always wore. Paeton was the sort of woman high heels were made for. Her full, rich, natural auburn hair fell past her shoulders and ended with a slightly natural curl. She had high cheekbones, tiny ears that laid flat against her
head, and wide-set, deep green eyes framed by flawlessly arched eyebrows. But the most impressive feature about Paeton was her mouth. It was full, wide, and inviting. And when she smiled or spoke, a precious crookedness could play havoc with the right man’s soul.

  “May I help you?” asked the retail clerk behind the Bloomingdale’s counter. Paeton noticed her name badge read “Yvonne.”

  “Yes, Yvonne.” Paeton liked to talk to salespeople using their first name. “I would like the best in the most current childseat for air travel.”

  “Yes, that would be Zoo Kingdom’s new seat.”

  Paeton caught Yvonne looking at her as if she wanted to ask her something. “Is something wrong?”

  Yvonne laughed lightly. “Oh, no. It’s I think you’re Paeton McPhilomy, the romance writer.”

  This was the first time anyone had recognized her after her several recent television show guest appearances. “Why, yes, I am.”

  “I just wanted to say I loved The Sky Streaks of Black.”

  “Why, thank you, Yvonne.” Paeton didn’t know exactly what to do. She didn’t have a copy of the book with her to autograph.

  It appeared however, that Yvonne was satisfied simply complimenting Paeton because the clerk continued her sales pitch. “This travelseat has all the latest features for safety and comfort.” Yvonne put one on the counter. “Isn’t it cute with all those tiny zoo animals? And safe. It exceeds all the latest FAA safety regulation requirements.”

  “Safe, good. Oh, and it’s tons of fun.” Paeton’s enthusiasm was mounting about her trip to the other coast.

  “And here’s a matching blanket. Do you think this is what you want?” Yvonne went for the sale.

  “Perfect. Ring them up. I’m on my way to Los Angeles.”

  “Well, they say the weather is great all the way to L.A. Shouldn’t be bumpy at all.”

  “Bumpy?” And then Paeton said something she would never forget saying for the rest of her life: “Oh, not a chance. I don’t look forward to any bumpiness in my life for some time.”