Scrambled Babies Read online

  #

  Paeton dialed Fred’s cell phone. “This is Fred Hollister. I’m not available. Please leave a message, and I will get back as soon as I can.”

  “Fred, this is Paeton. Please call me back as soon as possible. You need to call the plane skyphone. My cell is dead. We’re on Global flight seven forty six. I need you to meet me at the airport. It’s important. Thank you. I know it’s an imposition, but I really need you to be there. Love you. Paeton.”

  A few minutes later, the ringing of a skyphone spun Paeton’s head around toward the flight attendant fixing meals at the rear of the first-class cabin. Paeton brushed her hand across her eyes. She watched the attendant pick it up. Her heart hammered in anticipation.

  “Yes, this is Global flight seven forty-six to Los Angeles.” The attendant took out a clipboard and ran her eyes down it. “Yes, Paeton McPhilomy is on board. Hold on, please.”

  The attendant held out the skyphone. “Ms. McPhilomy. It’s for you.”

  Paeton gingerly took the phone. She looked up at the flight attendant, waiting for some privacy. The attendant finally turned and walked to the rear of the cabin.

  “Hi, Fred, thanks for calling back right away.” Fred Hollister was her agent, publicist, and would-be husband. Fred was a doll. He adored Paeton, but Paeton saw him more as a brother or an uncle. Fred was aware of the lack of mutual feeling on Paeton’s part, but was willing to wait for a miracle. He could at least be around her and help her in his accepted roles.

  “Paeton, are you okay? I didn’t think a meeting time-change—”

  “No, no, I’m sorry.” She looked around to see if anyone was interested in her conversation. She was thankful that first class offered larger territory and fewer fliers. “It’s that I have some news.” And Paeton emphasized the word to see if Fred would get the hint.

  “News? Oh, good news! Great!”

  “Uh, no, Fred. You haven’t heard the news?”

  “Huh? No, I don’t think so. Uh, I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Paeton.”

  “You haven’t heard national news?”

  Fred still registered blank. “What do you mean? It’s not tonight yet. I’ll listen to national news tonight. Are you all right, honey?”

  Paeton hunched down in her seat and whispered into the skyphone. “You haven’t heard it on national news?”

  “I can’t hear you, sweetheart. What? Heard it on national news? What it? These damn skyphones!” She heard him banging the phone on something hard.

  Paeton took a deep breath. Apparently there was no big national alert. Fred would have heard something as dramatic as someone looking for a baby kidnapped from an airport. She couldn’t quite yet let the breath go. “Fred—Fred, I need you to meet me at the airport!”

  She could hear him hesitate. “Uh, jeez, Paeton, you know I’d do anything for you, but I’ve got a million things to do today.”

  “Of course you do. Oh, never mind. I’m just being silly. I’ll be okay. Never mind. Bye, Fred.”

  “No, no, wait, Paeton! Wait! Don’t hang up! Please! Wait, honey! You’ll be okay from what? Paeton, what the hell is going on?”

  Silence.

  “Paeton! Did you hang up? Paeton? You still there?” Another banging sound came out of the phone.

  “Yes, I’m still here, Fred. I’m okay. I’ll call you.”

  Paeton could tell Fred’s frustration was at a peak. He always had a million things to do. From his base in L.A., he ran the most successful literary agency on both coasts. But she knew very well when it came to Paeton—

  “Okay, okay, honey. I’ll be there. No problem. You know that. What time do you get in?”

  Silence.

  “Paeton, honey. Please. Don’t do this to me. Okay? I’ll be there. For whatever the hell is going on. Paeton? Okay? Come on, what’s your arrival time?”

  Paeton finally let out her breath. She was exhausted. “Thanks, Fred. Two o’clock. See you when we land. Bye, Fred.” She hung up.

  “Hello, mister.” Madison was looking up at someone standing above Paeton in the aisle.

  “Hello,” came a male response.

  Startled, Paeton looked up. She had kept her head down into the phone and not noticed the short man peering over her. She now realized she had been smelling his overdone cologne all the while she was on the phone to Fred. She had been too engrossed to be aware of him.

  “Is there a reason you have been standing over me while I was on the phone?” Paeton’s tone was deliberately confrontational.

  “Not really. All I wanted was to meet you. You’re Paeton McPhilomy, right?” A syrupy smile hung on his pasty face.

  She softened somewhat. Was this her first male fan? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just—”

  “Oh, rudeness doesn’t bother me. People are rude to me all the time.”

  He wore a lavender sports jacket, copper-colored slacks, and a pencil-thin tie and mustache. Paeton noticed that his lavender shoelaces matched his jacket.

  “Oh?”

  “You see, I’m a reporter-slash-photographer for In Your Face.”

  “The—” Paeton hesitated, not wanting to be rude again.

  “Yes, the rag, the filthy tabloid, the career-destroyer—we have been called many rude names. By the best in the nation, I might add.”

  Paeton was confused. This guy was proud of the nefarious reputation of his publication?

  “Lovely little boy you have there.”

  Madison spoke up. “It’s a girl. Her name is Kelsey. She’s my baby sister. She looks funny because she’s on an airplane ride.”

  Paeton forced a laugh. “Play your video game, Madison.”

  The man persisted. “Really? Looks like a male child to me.”

  Paeton’s stomach and heart couldn’t take much more of this. “Well, it’s a girl. Trust me. At this age, lots of girls don’t have much hair.”

  The man had a look on his face as if he was up to something. Something told Paeton she didn’t want to have anything to do with this creep.

  “It has nothing to do with the hair. You have a male child.”

  Madison took offense. She stopped playing her game. “She is not! Kelsey’s a girl.”

  “Uh, Mr., uh, what did you say your name was?

  “Black. Steedly Black, from In Your Face magazine.”

  “Mr. Black. My child is female. I still have hours left on this trip. I’ve had a hectic day and look forward to many hectic days coming when I reach L.A. If you don’t have anything specific you want from me, I wonder if you could restore my privacy.”

  “No problem, Ms. McPhilomy. I’m a big fan of yours and wanted to say hello. I won’t even trouble you for an autograph. Good-bye.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Black. Good-bye.”

  The man with the pencil mustache walked back to coach. As he reached the curtain separating the sections, he turned and gave Paeton a knowing look.

  Paeton shivered.

  “Who was that man, Mommy? I didn’t like him. He smelled funny.”

  “Yes, he smelled funny to me too.” She said hoarsely, “He’s only someone who likes my books, honey.”

  “Oh? Do men read your books, Mommy?”

  “A few, Maddy. A few.” Paeton reclined her seat. “Mommy’s going to try to take a nap, Maddy. Okay?”

  “Okay, I’ll be quiet.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart.”

  “I kept the very big secret good, right, Mommy?” Maddy whispered.

  “Yes. You did, honey. Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

  “Okay.” She went back to her game.

  Paeton lay back and, from pure emotional exhaustion, was starting to drift into welcome sleep when the plane’s loudspeakers thwarted her attempt.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’d like to remind you that Global Airlines can take you anywhere in the world, offering service that pampers you from New York to the Orient. By the way, our July special is the Orient—Japan, China, and Hong
Kong. And thank you for flying Global.”

  Hong Kong!

  As clearly as if it were coming over the jetliner’s speakers, she heard the P.A. system at JFK immediately after she had bumped into too-tight-vest—“All passengers for flight eight fifty-seven to Hong Kong, there has been a change in your gate assignment. Please proceed to the commuter concourse where a shuttle will take you to your new gate.”

  Oh no!

  Her mind replayed everything as if it had just happened. Too-tight-vest had been coming toward her. After the collision and the P.A. announcement, he picked up Kelsey and headed toward the commuter concourse and—

  Dear god—I’ve sent Kelsey to Hong Kong!

  Chapter 2

  Paeton filed off the airplane and began walking unsteadily down the skyway leading to the terminal. She threw back her shoulders, wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, and prepared to meet Fred. She saw the back of her hand was black with mascara, but she didn’t care. Her throat had a painful lump in it from suppressing an all-out crying jag. But she had held on and would continue to hold on, even with the realization that Kelsey was now almost a half world away.

  The childseat swung at her side like a lead safe. The blanket not covering the child’s face this time. She emerged and searched for Fred. There he was right in front of the waiting crowd. He waved.

  “Hi, honey.” Fred hugged her somewhat tentatively. He stood back, holding both her shoulders. “Good god, you look like hell. Bad turbulence?”

  Paeton laughed vacantly. “I guess you could say that.”

  “Huh?”

  “Hi, Uncle Fred.”

  “Hi, Maddy!” And he bent down to give Madison a kiss. “Hello, Kelsey,” and he chucked the infant under the chin.

  Maddy laughed. “Uncle Fred said ‘Kelsey,’ Mommy. He doesn’t know our very big secret.”

  “No, he doesn’t, honey. And it looks like we really are in trouble.”

  Fred got up to Paeton’s ear and whispered, “What the hell is going on? Is something really wrong with Kelsey?”

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “For heaven’s sake, will you stop saying that? I’m here. Okay. I’m here. Now for pete’s sake tell me what the goddam problem is.”

  Paeton pressed a finger over Fred’s mouth. “Shh! Please, Fred. The children.” She gave him another kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for being here, Fred. I know how busy you are.”

  They walked in the direction of the baggage. “Paeton, what is the problem?” Fred leaned in too close in frustration. “Have you been crying? You look as if you’ve been crying.”

  “I haven’t been crying,” she protested.

  “Yes, you did, Mommy. Some. I heard you. I knew I shouldn’t talk to you when you were so upset.”

  “I didn’t cry, Madison.”

  Fred broke in. “Well, if you did cry, what about? I don’t see anything to cry about.”

  Paeton turned to Fred. “That’s because you haven’t changed the baby’s diaper.”

  Fred stepped back to look at Paeton. “Excuse me?”

  “I can’t talk here, Fred. Let’s get my bags, and I’ll talk to you in the car on the way to the hotel.”

  “Car’s in the shop, honey. We’ll have to grab a cab.”

  “Oh, Fred, not again. When are you going to get rid of that Jaguar?”

  “Sorry. I really can’t let go of that car.” He tried again for some answers. “Paeton, for god’s sake—”

  “Please, Fred. You’ll have to wait a few more minutes. Okay?”

  “Okay, okay. But I can’t imagine—”

  Paeton’s mouth broke into a grim smile. “That’s right. Not in a million years!”

  Fred expelled a huge sound of exasperation. He dutifully rounded up Paeton’s luggage and led them to the cab area. When they were pulling away from the curb, he turned to her. “Okay. Nobody can hear us.”

  Paeton pointed to the cab driver. The man in the ponytail turned his head. “I can’t hear nothin’, ma’am. Know what I mean? That’s part of my job.”

  Fred looked pleadingly at Paeton. “Paeton, please tell me what is so damned wrong that even a cab driver can’t know?”

  Paeton gestured toward the travelseat. “Even you’re fooled, Fred.”

  “Huh?”

  “You can’t tell, can you?”

  “Can’t tell what? Paeton, I swear, I’m going to jump out of this cab right now if you—”

  The cab driver turned his head again, his graying ponytail swinging in their faces. “Please don’t do that, sir. I have insurance, but—”

  “You said you weren’t listening,” Paeton cried angrily.

  “It’s a figure of speech, lady. I just meant—”

  Fred was impatient. “We know what you meant. Turn around and drive.”

  “Okay, okay. Jeez. Some people.” Fred had obviously injured the cabby’s feelings.

  Paeton became resolute. “Okay. You want to know what’s wrong? Fred—this is not Kelsey.” Paeton thought she saw the cabby’s ears change color. He certainly was listening, but she couldn’t hold it back from Fred any longer.

  Madison looked up from her video game. “That’s the very big secret, Uncle Fred!”

  “It’s not Kelsey? What do you mean ‘It’s not Kelsey?’ Then who is it, for heaven’s sake?” He studied the baby. He looked back at Paeton. “Of course it’s Kelsey. Paeton, to say I’m totally confused is an understatement. Please explain what you are talking about.”

  “Fred, this baby is not Kelsey. Kelsey is a girl, and this baby is a—a boy!” She choked on the word “boy.”

  “Well, if it’s not Kelsey, who is it, and what the hell are you doing with a boy baby that looks exactly like Kelsey?”

  “That, Fred, is our problem.”

  “It’s also our very big secret.”

  “Kelsey’s with too-tight-vest, Fred.”

  “Who? Too-tight-vest? Who the hell is too-tight-vest, Paeton?” Fred sounded edgy.

  “He’s the gentleman I mixed up the babies with. I know she’s safe.” She shuddered and swallowed back tears. “It’s that she’s—” Paeton formed two fists. “She’s on her way to Hong Kong!”

  Fred spit out his breath as if he’d been socked suddenly in the stomach. “She’s what?” He waved his arms around. “Son of a bitch! She’s with who? And how—I mean, what—I mean, jeez, Paeton, how the hell did this ever happen?”

  Paeton proceeded to explain, halting for control as she spoke: the airport switch, too-tight-vest, and how the last thing she saw was this guy walking off with all the people going on flight something to Hong Kong. She added in a hoarse whisper that she was certain Kelsey was safe with him.

  Fred sat in a stupor, shaking his head and saying “Jesus Christ” over and over again. Paeton had lost the will to tell him to watch his language.

  “The thing that baffles me is that he hasn’t called the authorities. At least if he has, we don’t know about it,” Paeton offered.

  “And that’s a good thing. A good thing. Jesus Christ!” He turned to Paeton. “Why didn’t you?”

  Paeton felt dazed. She laughed weakly. “Because I thought he would, I guess. I wasn’t excited to have the world know I got on an airplane with someone else’s baby. People are starting to recognize me.”

  Fred looked dazed too. “I agree with you there. Talk about bad publicity! Talk about explaining to the world. This is incredible! This is insane! This is—”

  Paeton studied him intently. “Well, what is it, Fred? When the world finds out I boarded my plane with the wrong baby, will it be good or bad?”

  Fred was shaking his head. “Jesus Christ. Yeah, I guess people have to find out, don’t they?”

  “Fred, please. Madison’s with us.” Paeton renewed her clean-language-around-the-children credo.

  “Sorry. But you two don’t know your own kids?”

  Paeton was getting flushed. “Come on, Fred. I told you about the identical seats and blankets f
rom Bloomingdale’s. The blankets were covering their faces just before the flight. And I already told you, we collided and set our babies down. In the confusion we each picked up the wrong kid.”

  “Paeton, we have a real problem here.”

  The cab driver turned around again, ponytail bobbing. “I’ll say!”

  “Will you mind your own business?” Paeton put out her hand to smack the frolicking hair, but thought better of it.

  “Okay, okay. It’s that I thought I’d heard ‘em all, but this is a lulu!” Fred folded his arms tightly across his chest.

  “Hey, you! Watch where you’re going! You went past our hotel,” Paeton shouted, leaning into ponytail’s ear.

  “Sorry. A quick U-turn, and we’ll be okay.” The driver spun the cab into a pitching U-turn.

  “Not listening! Right!” Paeton muttered under her breath, holding onto the strap above the door.

  To Paeton’s amazement, the cab and all of them screeched up unscathed to the hotel entry. The hotel bellman let them out and pulled Paeton’s luggage out of the trunk.

  Fred charged nervously ahead. “Let’s get to your room and check TV to see if anything’s been reported. And then we can get on the phone and—”

  “And what, Fred? Call the police?” Paeton was having trouble keeping her legs working.

  Fred ignored the remark. They reached the hotel desk, and Paeton registered in silence. When they entered Paeton’s suite, Fred raced to turn on TV. Paeton joined him as he scanned the channels searching for something about the baby-switch. He shook his head. “Amazing! Nothing! Not a blessed word about it!” He turned to Paeton with a strange look on his face. “Why hasn’t he reported this craziness? Does he want to keep your child?”

  Paeton felt goose bumps. “Fred, what are you talking about? How can he want to keep Kelsey? I have his baby. Doesn’t he want his baby back too? How about his wife? She must be frantic.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t have a wife. Maybe he figures he’s halfway to Hong Kong—wait a minute! He’s got to stop in San Francisco. No plane flies nonstop from New York to Hong Kong. We can call the San Francisco airport and ask them to find—”