April 1988 – 5 ½ months old

"Mr. Steele and I are leaving for lunch with Mr. Blevins," Laura informed Bernice, from where she stood in front of the reception desk.

"You have a two-thirty with a new client," Bernice reminded her, moving several files off a stack then opening one. "Jeremiah Benton, from Conway, Arkansas. His fifteen year old daughter ran away from home to be a star in LA." Laura checked her watch, and nodded.

"Even with Mr. Steele's penchant for getting long winded, we should be back in plenty of time."

"Long-winded?" Remington asked, drawing out each word with indignation, as he stepped out of the office closing the door behind him and stood behind his wife and partner. Bernice leaned forward and planted an elbow on her desk, then leaned her chin in her hand.

"Oh, this outta be good," she drawled. Laura's brows drew together and she gave her friend and Agency receptionist a quizzical look.

"What are you talk—" She stopped mid-sentence as she turned to share a questioning look with Remington. Her jaw dropped open and she looked at him as though he'd gone mad. "What… do you think you're doing?" He gave her his best look of innocence.

"I believe the same as yourself. A business lunch with Blevins, wasn't it?" he asked, blithely ignoring the fact he held the baby in one arm and had her diaper bag slung over the other shoulder. "Really, Laura, I'm beginning to worry you're spreading yourself too thin, forgetting things here and there. This lunch has been scheduled for weeks." She took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out slowly before speaking.

"And you would be carrying Olivia's diaper bag… why?"

"Yeah, why?" Bernice chimed in. Remington narrowed his eyes at her over Laura's shoulder in a manner that clearly said 'You, stay out of this', then gave his wife a look of concern.

"We've been toting this bag about for nearly six months now, so I should think you would know." He held a hand against her forehead. "Are you not feeling well? We could always reschedule this luncheon if you'd like." With a roll of her eyes, she smacked his hand away, then plunked her hands on her hips.

"The baby is not coming with us to a business luncheon," she pronounced.

"I don't see why not. It's not as though she's an imposing figure, and she's a very well-behaved child." Said child, of course, chose that moment to reach up, grasp a handful of his hair and while giving it a healthy tug, let out a squeal he was fairly certain left his eardrum tattered. He briefly considered extracting her chubby little hand from his hair, but decided it might undermine his argument. He was rewarded with another hard yank. "Besides, Olivia possesses her Da's considerable charm. She'll have Blevins eating out of her palm before drinks are served."

"Have you taken a blow to your head that I'm unaware of?" she questioned, her voice rising an octave at the absurdity of what he was proposing. "Either tell me what is going or take the baby—"

"She's going to sit up any day now." She waited for more, but it never came.

"And?" She drew out the word.

"We've already missed the babe rolling over the first time," he explained, as though she should understand without explanation. "That we might do the same the first time she sits up is… is… unacceptable, borders on offensive, even," he argued, passionately.

"That's so… sweet," Bernice interjected.

"Not helpful, Bernice," Laura scolded lightly, although she secretly felt the same. She was no less unhappy they'd missed out on one of the coveted firsts, but had forced herself to accept it was part of being a parent and business owner. "Mildred!" she called out. Mildred hustled out of her office, holding up her hands.

"I tried to tell him you'd never go for it, hon," the older woman defended herself, lest she be held complicit in Remington's scheme. Laura took Olivia from Remington's arms and handed her to Mildred, then passed on the diaper bag as well.

"It's nearly Olivia's nap time. Can you make sure she's not… inspired… to sit up before she goes down for nap?" Mildred and Bernice chuckled at Laura's request.

"Sure, hon," Mildred agreed easily. "She and Auntie Mildred will go sit in the rocker and read a story together. She can't very well sit up on her own if she's already sitting up." She looked at Olivia, and widening her eye, switched to baby talk. "Can you, honey? No, you can't," she answered for the infant as she walked with her into Remington's office. Laura grasped Remington's hand, and gave it a tug.

"Come along, Mr. Steele."

He accompanied her obediently, giving a last glance over his shoulder towards his office door, wondering how he'd somehow lost control of the perfect plan, yet again.

"What are you doing?" Laura asked, standing cross armed in the doorway between her office and the breakroom. Several thumps and what sounded like a drill being used, had drawn her away from her work to see what was going on.

"I've divined the perfect solution to us no longer missing Olivia's firsts," Remington answered, from where he stood on a stepstool in the corner of the nursery. Olivia lay on her tummy on a blanket on the floor, staring up at him, fascinated. "It's such a logical solution, I'm amazed you haven't thought of it by now."

"You're placing our child under video surveillance?" she asked, in disbelief. He flashed her a smile as he made a final adjustment on the camera's angle, then stepped down off the stool.

"Brilliant solution, don't you agree?"