Grabbing her up, Em said, “Just a little longer, sweetie. After you meet him, I’ll slip you into something more comfortable. It’s almost bedtime and you’re not at your best, but Daddy had to work at the hospital until seven. He’s a doctor, kiddo. A kiddo doctor in the emergency room. That means he only works on kids. You’re gonna love him. And how could he not love you.” Annie rubbed her nose on Em’s shoulder leaving a slick trail of something viscous.
Em sighed at the gooey spot. “Good thing I’m not trying to impress him. You’re the one he’s coming to see.”
She’d lost count of Annie’s wardrobe changes for this auspicious occasion. Meeting your father for the first time was a big deal. Not that Em would know because she’d never laid eyes on her own dad. But surely a lady needed to look her best for something like this.
Em was well aware that she was the reason this meet and greet hadn’t happened sooner and the consequences were hers to live with. But the guilt could just get in line with all the other guilts over the many mistakes she’d made. Unlike some of them, this one could be corrected. Better late than never.
The harsh sound of the bell made Em’s stomach drop as if she were riding the down loop on a roller coaster. The good news was that it got Annie’s attention and she stopped grunting and twisting to escape. “Here we go, sweet pea.”
She carried the baby to the peephole and peeked through to establish a positive visitor ID, although Cal was right on time. When she saw him, her midsection knotted and she let out a long, bracing breath before unlocking and opening the door.
“Hi, Cal.”
“Em.”
She’d expected him to be in hospital scrubs, but he’d changed out of work clothes into jeans and a baby-blue shirt with actual buttons, not a T-shirt. The shade brought out the color of his eyes, his daughter’s eyes. Maybe, just maybe, this meet and greet was important to him, too.
“Come in,” she said, stepping back to pull the door wide before shutting it against the glare of the sun descending in the evening sky. “It’s hot out there.”
And in here, she thought, looking up at him. The view gave her no relief from the heat. It had been a while, but her body was still susceptible to him. Once upon a time his charm had snagged her heart, but the present vibe wasn’t particularly charming so she could only assume the man himself got to her. That was too depressing to think about. And this visit wasn’t about her.
Time to make long-overdue introductions.
She glanced at her daughter who was sucking on her index finger and staring uncertainly at the tall stranger. “Cal, this is Annie.”
He studied her intently for a long time. Em wasn’t aware of holding her breath, but let it out when he did the same.
“You didn’t mention that she looks like me,” he said, not taking his eyes from his daughter.
“Would you have believed me?”
“Probably not.” His gaze slid to hers and turned resentful. “My hair was that color when I was little. The eyes are like mine. Even this,” he said, reaching out a finger to gently touch the indentation in the little girl’s chin that was identical to his own.
Annie ducked away and buried her face in Em’s neck. “She’s a little shy.”
He nodded without saying anything and Em wished she could read his mind. Had he been hoping she’d lied? Or did the idea of having a child make him want to puff out his chest and buy a round in the pub?
“Do you want to hold her?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He held out his arms and took Annie from her.
Her only intention was to make up for lost father/daughter time and she wanted it to be perfect. She should have known better. Life had been throwing her curve balls as far back as she could remember. This was no different.
Annie squirmed when he tried to settle her on his forearm. Tiny hands pushed against that wide chest and attempted to twist out of his strong grasp. Then she took one look at his face, started crying hysterically and frantically held out her hands to Em for a rescue.
“She wants you.” His voice could freeze water on a Las Vegas sidewalk in July.
Em took back her baby and felt the little girl relax. Not so the unflappable E.R. doc who looked like someone had hacked his stethoscope in half. “Don’t take it personally, Cal. She just needs to get to know you.”
“And whose fault is it that she doesn’t?”
The cutting remark hit its mark and guilt flooded her yet again. When Em felt cornered, out came the scrappy teenaged kid who’d once survived on the streets. “Look, I already admitted screwing up and apologized for it. I won’t say I’m sorry again. Annie is like this with strangers, and frankly I think it’s a good thing.”
“It’s good that she doesn’t know her own father?” His eyes narrowed on her.
“Not exactly. I just meant that it’s not a bad thing for her to be wary of people she doesn’t know. Until she gets to know them, to separate the wheat from the chaff.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Frankly, I can’t afford to worry about how you feel.” That wasn’t to say she didn’t worry, but it wasn’t the best use of energy. “My priority is Annie.”
“Mine, too, now that I know about her.”
“So you really do believe she’s yours? Do you still want a DNA test?”
“Yeah.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Just to be sure.”
“You don’t have a lot of faith in your fellow human beings, do you?”
Before he could respond in the affirmative, the bell rang again. It startled the two adults, but also pulled Annie out of whimper mode.
“Excuse me.” Em peeked out and recognized the young girl. “I have to answer this.”
She opened the door and when Annie saw who was there she smiled and held out her arms.
“Hi, sugar.” The green-eyed, redheaded seventeen-year-old grinned then grabbed Annie and planted kisses on both chubby cheeks, making her laugh. “How’s this little girl?”
“Who wants to know?” Cal asked.
Em knew by the tone he was annoyed and had a pretty good idea why. If she’d been in his shoes it would tick her off that her child went easily to someone else and treated her like a serial killer. But that couldn’t be helped.
“Cal, this is Lucy Gates. Lucy, meet Dr. Cal Westen.”
The teen looked from one to the other, then at the child in her arms. “FOB?”
Cal frowned. “Friends of Bill?”
“Father of baby,” Emily translated.
Nodding, he studied Lucy. “And you are?”
“One of my girls,” Emily said, and knew from his skeptical expression that an explanation would be necessary. “This five-unit building was donated by Ginger Davis of The Nanny Network. With grants and donations, I run a program that mentors and houses teenage mothers. It’s called Helping Hands and assists young women who have nowhere else to go. They help each other raise their babies while getting an education. Children can’t be taken care of if their mothers can’t take care of themselves.”
Cal slid his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “You don’t look old enough to have a baby.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t,” Lucy snapped back. She studied him warily. “My son’s name is Oscar.”
“I see.”
“Right.” The teen made a scoffing noise. “You don’t have a clue. Just like my folks.”
This wasn’t going at all well, Em thought. “Lucy, he’s just—”
“Judging,” she snapped. “Like everyone else.”
“How did your parents judge?” he asked.
Lucy’s expression was a combination of hostility and hurt that she tried desperately to hide. “They threw me out when I got pregnant. Didn’t want anything to do with a grandchild. Doesn’t get more harsh than that.”
“She and Oscar had nowhere to go,” Emily explained.
The girl reminded her of herself all those years ago. When her mother gave her the ultim
atum to give up her baby or get out. So, she got out. At first. But after weeks on the street, she knew she loved her child too much to subject it to that kind of life and went home, forced to make a horrible choice. Now she was trying to help young girls who were facing the same choice and give them another option.
But it was time to change the tone of this meeting. “Cal is a pediatrician,” she explained to the teen.
“So you take care of kids?” Lucy asked.
“I handle pediatric emergencies at Mercy Medical Center,” he said.
“So you don’t do well-baby stuff? Shots and all that?”
“You need a regular pediatrician for ‘stuff.’”
“So what good are you?” Lucy asked.
“If your baby has head trauma or a high fever, I’m your guy. Not so much the long-term care.”
Em had never thought about it before, but even his choice of medical specialty highlighted an aversion to commitment. That didn’t matter for her. Not anymore. But she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her daughter. As long as Cal could commit to Annie she had no beef with him.
“Where’s Oscar?” Em asked.
“With Patty.”
“That’s her roommate,” Em explained to him. “The girls share living quarters in the apartment next door and trade off child care while working and taking classes for their GED or college credits.”
“Good for them.” Cal folded his arms over his chest.
Lucy sized him up, then handed Annie back to her. “I heard the dude knock on your door and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Thanks,” Em said, taking a firm hold on the little girl who was holding out her arms again for the teenager. “It’s fine. I appreciate you checking up on us.”
“No problem. It’s what we do,” the teen said, giving Cal a pointed look before opening the door. “Catch you later, Em.”
When they were alone again, his expression was even more hostile. “That was fun.”
“She’s a good kid.”
“The good part I’ll have to take your word on. Kid I could see for myself. My specialty is emergency care from birth to eighteen. She’s young enough to be one of my patients and needs classes in birth control.”
With their baby in her arms, she glared at him. “People who live in glass houses…”
“Okay.” His expression turned wry. “Point taken.”
“You weren’t very nice to Lucy. I never knew you to be deliberately rude.”
“I never had a child who treated me like I had cooties and preferred a stranger,” he defended.
“Lucy isn’t a stranger to Annie.”
“She is to me.”
“That’s childish.”
“But honest,” he snapped.
“Unlike me.”
“You said it, not me.”
A guilty conscience needs no accuser. “Look, Cal, that’s just the way it is. You can take it out on everyone or deal with the situation. Continue to punish me, or get to know your daughter. What’s it going to be?”
“She’s my child. And it’s time she got to know me.”
“Good.”
He settled his hands on lean hips, a gunfighter’s stance. “And you’re going to help me.”
“What does that mean?” she asked warily.
“You’re going to be around while Annie and I get acquainted.”
He was right. She couldn’t just dump the baby on him because it would be too traumatic for them both. Emily realized that she should have seen this coming, but the truth was she hadn’t. When she got the message that he’d never commit, the silver lining was not having to see him and hurt like crazy because he didn’t want her the same way she’d wanted him. Ironically what broke them up was also the same thing that forced them back together.
Annie.
Emily knew what it felt like to be vulnerable and alone. Unlike FOB, she didn’t plan to do that again and figured to pick and choose the people she let close to her. She’d never expected one of those people to be Cal. Again she reminded herself that he wouldn’t be there for her. It was all about his child.
Gosh, wasn’t it going to be fun hanging out with the guy who made breaking hearts an Olympic event?
* * *
Sitting in the sporty BMW he’d nicknamed Princess, Cal saw Emily’s practical little compact come around the corner and pull into the apartment building parking area. He was across the street in front of a vacant lot and got out of his car, looking both ways to make sure there was no traffic. Ending up in his own E.R. because of stupidity would be the ultimate in humiliation, and his partners in the emergency trauma practice would show no mercy, even though he had a good excuse for being preoccupied.
As he walked toward Emily, he watched her open the rear passenger door, unbuckle Annie and lift her out. Then she went to the trunk and popped it, pulling out a plastic grocery bag. The closer he got, the more bags he could see. It never occurred to him that two girls could eat so much.
“Hi,” he said.
She whirled around, clutching the child to her chest. “Good Lord, you startled me.”
“I thought you saw me.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m parked across the street.”
“Why?” Her dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Are you stalking me?”
He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Do you always go immediately to the bad place?”
“Normally, no,” she said, without conviction. “But what we have here isn’t a normal situation.”
“What we have here probably happens more than you think,” he said.
“Not in my world.” She loosened her hold on Annie who was sucking on her index and middle fingers, staring at him with distrust in every cherubic curve of her face.
“Does your world still include hospital social work?”
“Yes. In addition to running Helping Hands, I freelance at most of the valley’s hospitals. Not having to keep a nine-to-five schedule makes it easier to spend more time with Annie.”
Occasionally a patient in the E.R. needed social services to facilitate health-care programs, hospice care or off-site treatment options. He’d met her after seeing a child with leukemia and no insurance. Em was called in to counsel the parents on available treatment and financial plans to help pay for as much as possible. He’d been anxious to turn that case over to someone else when Emily Summers had walked into the room.
One look at that face—specifically that mouth—and he’d wanted to turn himself over to her. And he had, until she’d walked out on him for no apparent reason. The fact that they were going to be parents had never entered his mind.
“So were you working today?” he casually asked. “And where does Annie stay when you can’t be with her?”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long this time.”
“This time?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“I stopped by earlier and talked to Lucy’s roommate, Patty. She was just on her way out to a class and told me when you’d be home.”
“Hmm.” With a couple of grocery bags on one arm and Annie in the other, Em shifted the baby’s weight.
Cal was pleased that she looked like a healthy kid. Yesterday after seeing her he realized there were a million questions he should have asked. How was the birth? Any complications? Who’s her pediatrician? He could get her in with the best one in the valley.
But none of those things had come out of his mouth because he’d been too stunned that Emily told him the truth. This time he’d brought a swab and planned to get a sample for the DNA test. Skepticism had been his new best friend since the woman he’d married had lied about being pregnant so they could be together. Translation—to trap him. His first mistake was not leaving when her lie was exposed because the longer they were together, the bigger the lies got.
Last night he’d pulled out old photo albums and pored over family pictures, studying the ones of himself at Annie’s age. She looked
just like him. There was little doubt in his mind that she was his daughter, but because of his past, proof was required.
As he watched Emily struggle with grocery bags and the baby, it finally sank in that she could use some help. His parents hadn’t raised their boys to do nothing while a woman struggled.
“Let me help you,” he said, taking the bags.
“Take Annie.” She thrust the little girl into his arms. “I’ll grab a couple bags and unlock the door.”
Instantly the child started to cry and hold out her chubby arms to her mother. Em was already hurrying to her front door, key in hand.
“Annie’s crying,” he called after her. “Do something.”
“It’s good for her lungs,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re a doctor. You should know that.”
He did know that, when the child in question wasn’t his and crying actual tears. “Okay, kid. Let’s do this.”
He grabbed as many bags as he could carry and not compromise his hold on the little girl in his arms. Fortunately Em’s apartment was right around the corner from the parking lot and he followed her into the open front door. It was cool inside, a welcome relief from the July heat. The kitchen was just off the living room where Emily was half buried in the refrigerator hurriedly putting away cold and frozen food.
“What should I do with her?” he shouted over the pitiful cries that hurt his ears and his heart simultaneously.
She looked at him. “Put her on the floor.”
Didn’t have to tell him twice. He set Annie down on her tush where she continued to sob as if he’d been sticking pins into her.
“I’ll get the rest of the bags,” he said, and went to do that without waiting for permission. He was an E.R. doc and used to taking the initiative.
When he’d grabbed the remaining groceries from the trunk and shut it, he hurried back to the apartment, just as Annie was crawling out the front door. He stepped over her and dropped the bags in the middle of the living room, then raced out the door to scoop her up. The loud wail was irrefutable evidence of her displeasure. As if he needed more proof that she hated his guts.
Squirming and squealing, she continued her protest as he carried her to Em. “You’ve got a runner.”
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