Part Four
Sydney balanced the diaper bag and the purse over her shoulder, picking up Grace, settled into her carrier, in one deft movement. Looks like I'll have to come back for the stroller, she realized. Maybe Michael was right-- a shopping trip with Grace and Emily was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth.
"Okay, Emmy, zip up your coat," she instructed the little girl.
"I need help, Mommy," Emily said, her little face screwed up in frustration.
"Emily--"
Sydney was interrupted by the sound of the ringing phone, which Emily scrambled off to get. "Emily, don't, sweetheart, we're going to be--"
"Hello?" Emily said perkily into the phone. Sydney put down Grace's carrier with a sigh. "Grammy!"
Sydney rolled her eyes. Michael's mother was a sweet woman, but she had a knack for calling at the most inconvenient times.
"We're going to have lunch with Daddy, Grammy," Emily continued. "And then Mommy's going to buy a new dress, and she said if I'm good I can have a new Barbie…She and Daddy are going to a party…Uh-huh…'Manda's going to baby-sit me," she said, naming the Vaughns' sixteen-year-old neighbor. "Yeah, Mommy's here." Without saying goodbye, she held the phone out to her mother. "It's Grammy, Mommy."
"Don't just hand me the phone, tell her goodbye, sweetheart," Sydney sighed.
Emily nodded. "Bye, Grammy. Here's Mommy…Love you too."
"Marguerite, hi," Sydney said, once Emily had handed her the phone.
"Sydney, darling," came the older woman's soft, French-accented voice. "I caught you as you were just running out the door, didn't I?"
"I'm sorry, you did," Sydney said apologetically. "Michael has meetings all afternoon, so we have to hurry if we want to catch him for lunch."
"Michel works too hard," Marguerite said, her voice gently reproving. "Just like his father."
Sydney winced. She knew Michael had idolized his father, but from what little Marguerite had said, she guessed that he had hardly been the perfect husband, and she knew that Marguerite was less than thrilled that Michael had followed his footsteps into the law.
"You're going to work yourself into an early grave, just like he did."
"Mom, Dad died in a car accident."
"He does work hard, yes, but he's doing very well," Sydney said, hoisting her purse up on his shoulder.
"And he's dragging you to another of his office functions tonight, isn't he?" Marguerite sighed.
"I really don't mind, Marguerite," Sydney said. A glance at the clock that hung above the oven told her that they had to leave in about five minutes if they wanted to have any hope of catching Michael. "I'm really sorry, but we do have to go. Can I call you back tomorrow, maybe when Michael's home?"
"Of course, of course," Marguerite said. "Quickly, though, tell me how my newest grandbaby and my grandson are?"
"They're wonderful, Marguerite," Sydney said, face widening into a smile as she gazed down at Gracie, quietly content in her baby seat. "Jack's doing so well in school, and Gracie is getting bigger every day."
"It was so wonderful to have all of you here for Christmas," Marguerite said warmly.
"We enjoyed it, too," Sydney said with a smile. "We want to fly you and my father out here in May, for Emily's birthday."
"Oh, Sydney, I can't possibly wait another four months to see the little ones," Marguerite said with a sigh. "I hate that you're so far away now."
"I wish we could see you more often, too," Sydney said, twirling a few loose strands of hair around her index finger.
"Mommy, I still need help," Emily said, tugging on Sydney's skirt.
Sydney sighed. "I've got to go, Marguerite. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"
"All right, dear. See that my son takes good care of you and the little ones."
"He does," Sydney smiled. "Goodbye, Marguerite."
"Goodbye, Sydney."