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 ultimatum 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.”
“Hm
m.” 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.”
Em glanced over her shoulder. “Good. You got her. She tries to escape if you don’t shut the door.”
He put Annie on the floor and did a slow burn while Emily finished putting away the groceries. Then she grabbed up the little girl and disappeared down the hall. Cal had no choice but to follow.
He watched Em competently change the wriggling child’s diaper, something he should have known to do, but didn’t because he’d been left out of that particular loop. With the freshly diapered child in her arms, she went back into the kitchen and got a child’s cup with a lid, filled it with water and just a splash of apple juice. He was pretty sure it was called a sippy cup because he’d heard kids in the E.R. calling them that. On the floor surrounded by plastic toys and stuffed animals, Annie grabbed the cup from her mother and chugalugged, evidence that she was thirsty. Or she liked her cup. Or both. He didn’t know which and it ticked him off because he should know. He was her father.
He watched Annie put her head down on a plump stuffed bear as sucking on the juice slowed. She blinked a couple of times before her eyelids drifted closed and her hold on the cup loosened. Her breathing grew slow and even.
“She’s asleep,” he announced.
“I know.” Em was washing apples at the sink.
“How?”
“It’s late afternoon and the heat wears her out.” She glanced past him and smiled tenderly. “But it’s getting close to dinner time so all she gets is a power nap.”
“Why?”
“If I let her sleep too long, there will be no getting her to bed at a decent hour tonight.”
“Of course,” he snapped.
Emily studied him. “What’s bugging you?”
“Besides the fact that whenever I touch her my daughter screams as if I’m an ax murderer?”
“Yeah, besides that.”
“I don’t know anything about her and I’m her FOB.”
“Think about it this way, Cal.” Emily shut off the water, then arranged the apples along with a big bunch of green grapes in a yellow pottery bowl. “Before Annie was born I didn’t know her, either. Now we’ve spent a little time together and I’ve learned about her. I do my best to make sure her needs are met so she trusts me to do that. All it takes is to put the time in. One day. Then another. And another. Until a pattern develops. If you’re up for it.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he demanded.
“You’re not a guy who gives patterns a chance to develop.”
Not unhealthy patterns. He’d done that once and it was a disaster. “I’ve never had a kid before,” he said, not bothering to deny her words.
“It takes time to build trust. And I get that’s not easy for you, although I don’t know why.” She held up her hands. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s probably on a need-to-know basis, and I don’t need to know.”
She was right about that. No one needed to know that his ex gave him lesson after lesson on why women couldn’t and shouldn’t be trusted. Em reinforced it by keeping knowledge of his child from him. Patterns? Oh, yeah, bad ones. It’s why he didn’t do commitment.
“Yeah, you don’t need to know,” he agreed. “And you’re right about spending time with her to build trust. How are we going to work that out?”
“I’m not sure yet. But we will.”
Looking around the apartment, he assessed his daughter’s environment. He recognized the light green corner group from Em’s other place and the cherrywood coffee table in front of it. There was a TV on a stand in the corner that was also familiar. Three wrought-iron barstools with beige seats lined up at the counter separating the kitchen and living room. They were new because her old place hadn’t had a bar. If he walked in her bedroom, would the floral comforter be there? More than once he’d swept it to the floor in his hurry to have her.
His body tightened and he remembered that, too, the intensity of his need for her. It was different from the way he’d wanted any other woman. And he still felt it, which didn’t make him at all happy.
“Do you need money?” he asked.
“No.” The indignation in her expression was easy to read.
“I don’t mean to offend you, but I have nine months of pregnancy, the birth and eleven months of Annie’s life that I owe you for.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” she said, anger flashing briefly in her eyes “Money isn’t why I told you about her. I just wanted you to know she exists. In case anything happens to me.”
The lump in her breast. He’d forgotten that what with the mess of finding out he was a father. She’d said she had an appointment.
“I’ll go with you to see the doctor.” If she was lying about it this would call her bluff.
“I can handle it.”
“I’m not saying you can’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Just that you might need s
ome help with Annie.”
“That’s not a problem,” she protested. “I’m used to taking her with me.”
“No offense, but she’s got a pretty good set of lungs. That could make actually hearing what the doc has to say difficult.”
“I can leave her with Lucy—”
“No.” Anger knotted in his gut. “Annie is my daughter. I can stay in the waiting room with her. Just a short-term assignment.”
“Are you sure?” Em caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Absolutely.” And he absolutely couldn’t look away from those small, straight white teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her mouth. It made him think about the rest of her flesh—the parts underneath her clothes. That made him want to get her naked, which was a very big problem.
“Okay, then,” she agreed. “You can come with me.”
“Good. It will go a long way toward establishing trust.”
With his daughter, not with Emily. She’d burned him once and wouldn’t get another chance. After doing the deceit dance with his ex-wife, he knew that second chances were a slow slide to the dark side. Lori always had an ulterior motive for the suicide attempts that never succeeded. It kept him with her, at least until the next time he got fed up and threatened to leave when she’d try again and wind up in the E.R. to make a dramatic statement. Then, without warning, she’d left him first. Where was the win in that?
And Emily had done the same thing. But now she was back. That just meant this was a new challenge, that there was something she wanted more than getting him together with his daughter.
All he had to do was find out what that something was and beat her at her own game.
Chapter Three
As she walked through the medical building’s courtyard, Emily carried Annie. Cal was beside them, hefting the diaper bag. Part of her couldn’t help thinking of him as her knight in shining armor. The street-smart side knew there was no such thing.
He’d offered her money, for Pete’s sake. Like he thought she wanted something besides security for their daughter if the breast lump turned out to be cancer. Playing the money card was like waving the red penalty flag saying he didn’t trust her. As if she needed more proof, he’d swabbed Annie’s mouth for the DNA sample. He’d looked like he felt bad about making her cry, but their little girl, just like her mother, showed no signs of forgiving or forgetting and wanted nothing to do with him today.
The Doctor’s Secret Baby Page 3
