Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe
Page 3
With an impatient expulsion of breath, Jason took the catalog. “I don’t have much of an eye for interior decorating.”
Coral bit her lip. Jason’s slight sign of impatience bothered her, Heather could tell. It was too bad such a rough-edged man had been paired with a sensitive secretary, although she knew Natalie had interviewed a number of applicants before recommending Coral.
“I took the liberty of drawing a floor plan, if you’d care to look at it,” the secretary said.
“Sure.” Jason didn’t lift his eyes from the catalog as he flipped through.
Coral handed Heather a sheet of paper. Although the markings had been sketched with a tentative hand, the young woman had done a careful job of arranging the desk, a couch, chairs and filing cabinets. “Looks good to me.”
Jason gave it a quick glance. “Might work. I’ll give it a more thorough going-over later.” He handed everything back to Coral. “Put these on my desk, please.”
“Yes, Dr. Carmichael.” She turned away, disappointment clouding her eyes. Apparently she’d hoped her floor plan would draw a more positive response.
“Oh, Coral. One more thing.”
She stopped, her slim back rigid, and turned to face him.
“On second thought, I realize it wasn’t such a bad idea to unpack my files and books,” Jason said. “We won’t be moving for at least a month, and I’d have hated not being able to find things when I needed them. In future, just check with me before doing something like that, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” After giving him a shy smile, Coral retreated. Her shoulders, Heather noticed, had relaxed.
“What were we talking about?” Jason asked after Coral had left. “Something important, I recall.”
Heather refused to resume the discussion of their ill-starred encounter in Atlanta. “We were reviewing the mural. I approve of it. Babies, babies everywhere sets the right tone.”
“I’ll tell Patrick. As I said before, decorating isn’t my strong point.” Despite his well-known dislike of wasting time, Jason appeared in no hurry to move on. “The rest of our new staff should be on board before April. I’ll forward their bios to you, if you’re interested.”
“I’d like that.” Time to make her getaway, Heather decided. “Thanks for showing me around. I have to be going.”
“You haven’t picked your office.”
“I’ll leave that to you,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment.”
Although technically she was finished at five o’clock, infertility patients had to be seen during their optimal times of the month, which weren’t always predictable. Some of the women also contended with rigid work schedules, so Heather made a point of staying flexible.
“I’ll see you later, then.” Jason didn’t suggest walking back across the plaza together, to her relief.
Once she was out in the fresh air, Heather’s spirits rose. With luck, they had put that entire Atlanta business behind them. With a little more luck, the sensual awareness vibrating between them would abate as soon as familiarity bred boredom. Any day now.
She marched across the courtyard, her sensible pumps clicking confidently against the pavement.
“TELL ME AGAIN what was wrong with this one,” Rob Sentinel said as he and Jason emerged from the third apartment building they’d visited.
Jason appreciated the young obstetrician’s offer to spend part of Saturday ferrying him around town. As a recent arrival himself, Rob knew the ropes of apartment hunting.
“There was no built-in microwave,” Jason said.
“That’s what I thought you said. I just didn’t believe it. They sell microwaves at discount stores, you know.” Rob sounded impatient, which was understandable, considering that he’d given up a chance to play golf with George today.
“I’ve already accumulated more stuff than I want.” Jason knew it didn’t make sense, his dislike of loading himself down with material possessions. Still, with only a few clothes, a small TV and a boom box, he’d been able to ship everything easily from Virginia.
If he had good financial sense, he’d buy a place, his mother had advised in a phone call from Boston. Being a real estate agent, she figured he was making a mistake by not investing now that he appeared to be putting down roots.
Certainly Jason didn’t plan to change jobs any time soon. Possibly not for many years.
Yet in the past there’d been times—one in particular, after his engagement had fallen apart—when both his personal and professional lives had benefited from his ability to pack up and move on short notice. He wasn’t ready to give up that freedom yet.
“Hold on.” Rob paused next to his car and folded his arms. “Didn’t you ask me earlier whether any of the apartments allowed dogs? A dog isn’t exactly what I’d call a minor acquisition.”
“It was an idle question.” Jason had always dreamed of having a dog. His parents, who took pride in their spotless Brookline home, had nixed the idea while he was growing up, and he’d had no opportunity since then. “Maybe when I retire, I’ll buy a large place and a dog to go with it. I don’t know why I bothered asking today. It just popped into my head.”
For some reason, he wondered whether Heather liked dogs. He’d spent the last couple of days wondering about Heather’s taste in a lot of things, although he’d been too busy to seek her out again.
“Your subconscious might be sending you a signal,” said his companion.
“Excuse me?” How on earth had Rob figured out that he was thinking about Heather?
“The dog. If that’s what you really want, we’re taking the wrong approach.” The obstetrician leaned against the car. “I don’t think an apartment is what you need.”
“If you’re about to suggest I invest in real estate, stop right there,” Jason said.
“I was thinking more along the lines of renting a house or a town house,” the younger doctor said. “That’s what Dr. Rourke does.”
“Oh?” He tried to sound casual, although he found himself intensely interested in hearing more. “Where does she live?”
“In a town house development on Bordeaux Avenue. That’s in the northeastern part of town,” Rob said. “I’d have rented there myself if it were closer to the beach.”
“Do they allow pets?” That would be ideal, Jason thought.
“I don’t know,” said the other doctor. “You could ask her about it on Monday.”
“I don’t want to wait that long. I’m tired of the hotel.” He was impatient to get settled and curious to see where Heather lived, too. “Why don’t we swing by there and take a look at her place?”
“I don’t know her unit number. Besides, she’s probably not home.” Obviously, Rob wasn’t eager to make another stop. If he were getting tired of the apartment hunt, Jason couldn’t blame him.
“You’ve been great today,” he said. “You’ve given me a good idea of what’s available. Why don’t you drop me at my hotel? I can take it from there.”
“I promised to help,” Rob said stubbornly. “Besides, you don’t know your way around town.”
“I’ve got a map,” he pointed out, then added the kicker. “It’s still early enough to hit the golf course.”
The man ran through several expressions as he waged an internal debate. “All right.” The call of the links had won out. “I’ll take you back, but let me know if you need more help.”
“You bet.” Jason didn’t plan to do anything of the sort.
At his hotel, he thanked Rob. As soon as the man was out of sight, Jason called Patrick’s home. The administrator had given him the number in case of weekend or evening problems that required his immediate attention.
Patrick’s wife, Natalie, answered. After Jason explained that he wanted to check out the town houses, she gave him Heather’s address and cell phone number. “I’m not sure if she’s home,” Natalie said. “She volunteers in a program for unwed mothers on Saturday mornings.”
Into Jason’s mind flashed their conversation on
Wednesday about the pregnant nurse, along with Heather’s sharp reaction. Had she misinterpreted his remarks as an insult toward unmarried mothers? He’d only meant to point out that, if anyone knew enough to take precautions, it ought to be an obstetrical nurse.
“It’s nearly noon,” he said. “She might be home.”
“You can call her,” Natalie said.
“I appreciate the information.”
“Good luck on finding a place.”
“Thanks.” Jason didn’t mean to mislead her, but, as he rang off, he’d already decided not to bother calling in advance.
Heather might tell him to stay away. And he had no intention of doing that.
Chapter Three
Pushing up on her hands and knees, the baby rocked her little body forward, lost her balance and plopped onto the carpet. Doggedly, she hoisted herself up again and began rocking once more.
“She’s trying to crawl,” Heather said in delight.
“Wait! I’ll get my camera.” Her daughter Olive ran for the digital apparatus, which was never far away. “I have to send John a shot.”
“He’s getting out of the marines next month,” Heather pointed out. “He’ll be able to watch her crawl and stand and walk before you know it.”
“I can’t bear for him to miss any of it. He’s miserable that he wasn’t here for her birth.” Crouching, Olive took aim and snapped a shot just as Ginger flopped onto her side and opened her mouth to bawl. “Oh, no. That’s going to look awful.”
“It’s cute,” Heather said. “Everything she does is cute.”
“Typical grandmother.” Her daughter smiled indulgently. “Even if you are ridiculously young.”
“You think she’s cute, too!”
“Granted, but I don’t dote on her the way you do.” With an arch look, Olive added, “Maybe if you could brag about her to your friends, you’d get it out of your system.”
“I do brag about her to my friends.”
“Only Natalie and Amy.” Olive stretched onto her stomach, keeping the baby in the frame. When it came to taking pictures, she had a lot of patience. “I know you’re not ashamed of us, Mom, but you need to get over being ashamed of yourself.”
That was perceptive for a twenty-one-year-old woman, Heather reflected. “Things have changed. When I got pregnant out of wedlock, people sneered at me. I was held up as a bad example.”
“Oh, come on! Even twenty years ago, nobody believed that old business about fallen women.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Olive clicked quietly as Ginger tried again. This time, the baby managed to move her arms and legs fast enough to keep her balance as she lurched forward. “She did it!”
“I’m going to get my camera, too,” Heather said. “Don’t let her grow up before I get back.”
She’d scarcely taken two steps before the phone rang in the kitchen. It was John, making one of his rare overseas calls to his fiancée. After they exchanged greetings, she went to get her daughter.
Olive vanished to take the call. In the living room, Heather indulged herself by shooting a series of photos as Ginger bumbled her way along the carpet, making a colorful splash with her yellow jumpsuit and carrot-colored hair.
Although Olive and Ginger had been staying here for five months, she still could hardly believe she’d not only been reunited with her daughter, she’d also gained a granddaughter. It was more than she’d ever dared hope for.
Heather had been a confused fifteen-year-old when she got pregnant by her eighteen-year-old boyfriend, Ned. A handsome young man with a tan complexion and dark hair like Olive’s, he’d sworn he adored her and wanted to marry her someday—until he discovered that she was with child.
The first words out of his mouth had been, “It’s not mine.” Shocked, she’d burst into tears. He was the only man she’d ever been with, she’d pointed out. They loved each other, didn’t they? Surely he was going to stand by her.
What a fool she’d been! For the next few weeks, Ned had avoided her. When Heather showed up at the auto repair shop where he worked, he’d ordered her off the premises.
She’d spent a miserable week confiding in no one, telling herself Ned would come to his senses. Finally she’d dropped by his house. His mother had fixed her with an angry glare.
“He’s gone,” the woman had said. “Don’t ask me where. It’s your fault. He should never have gotten mixed up with a tramp like you.”
Stunned and frightened by the thought of what lay ahead, Heather had cried until her eyes were raw, then gone home and confessed to her parents. Seeing the disappointment in their faces had been almost as bad as experiencing Ned’s betrayal.
Her father, a truck driver, and her mother, a supermarket checker, had always encouraged Heather and her brother to focus on their studies and aim for the stars. News of the pregnancy had hit them hard.
They hadn’t rejected her, though. Their love had made life bearable while she attended an alternative high school and suffered snubs from former friends. When the baby was born, Heather had known she wasn’t prepared to raise a child, so she’d tearfully given her up for adoption. At every point, her parents had delivered their support without question.
“I’ll never let you down again,” she’d told them, and she hadn’t. When she graduated from college, the first person in her family to do so, they’d been thrilled, and she’d been pleased when her brother followed in her footsteps.
Earning her medical degree, although it required financial sacrifices of everyone, had filled them with pride. So had Heather’s brother’s decision to become a police officer.
Over the years, she’d always wondered where her little girl was and hoped she was loved. Although Heather had never doubted the wisdom of her decision, she’d ached for the child she would never see.
A few years ago, she’d signed up with a service that matched parents and birth children, in case her daughter ever wanted to find her. About a year ago, she’d received a call.
Olive’s beloved adoptive parents had died in an accident while she was in college. Engaged to a marine, pregnant and temporarily alone while he served overseas, she’d sought to connect with the woman who’d given birth to her.
As soon as they met, they’d become best friends. From her flashing brown eyes to her sense of humor, Olive seemed like a younger sister. Even the parts of her that came from Ned, like her dark hair and slim build, were a gift, in Heather’s opinion. The man was a fool who’d lost much more than he’d taken.
She could never regret having this daughter and granddaughter, no matter how much they’d cost her. And she knew her parents, who’d met them at Christmas, no longer regretted it, either.
There’d been plenty of speculation at Doctors Circle last fall when Heather, without explanation, took two months leave to coach Olive through the birth and spend time with her afterward. Office gossip attributed her absence to pique at Jason’s appointment, and she’d done nothing to correct the impression. It made as good an excuse as any, since she had no intention of subjecting her painful past to the scrutiny of others.
Afterward, the pair had come to live here while John wrapped up his service. Olive, who’d grown up only an hour’s drive away in Los Angeles, had finished earning her degree at nearby Serene College. This month, she’d taken her last final and completed her work. Soon, John would be returning.
Heather didn’t want to think about how much she was going to miss living with her daughter and granddaughter. Strange as it seemed, she enjoyed having her once-tranquil living room crammed with a playpen and toys and she loved being called Mom, an honor Olive had spontaneously bestowed upon her. She hoped the new family would settle nearby so she could watch every step, literally and figuratively, of Ginger’s development.
“Mom!” Olive sprinted into the living room. “I’m so excited! John wants to get married as soon as he arrives. He can’t bear to wait, and neither can I! We’re going to have our wedding next month.”
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p; “I’m pleased for you.” Relief was Heather’s first reaction. She’d never met her future son-in-law in person, and until now had had only Olive’s assurances that he was loving and rock-solid. Thank goodness John hadn’t turned out to be a cad like Ned.
“It’s been so lonely with him gone, and now we’ll be together all the time.” Joy made Olive shimmer as she sang, “Here comes the bride! Big, fat and wide! Not!”
Despite Heather’s happiness for her daughter, reality intruded. A little less than three weeks. That was all the time they had until John returned.
“How will we ever be able to put a wedding together?” she cried. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a spoilsport and I know Amy managed hers in a week, but I have no idea where to begin.”
Amy and Quent Ladd had married quickly in order to gain custody of his orphaned niece and nephew. They’d been assisted by Amy’s highly capable Aunt Mary, who’d offered the use of her large home for the ceremony and reception. This town home, despite its vaulted ceiling and graceful design, wasn’t nearly big enough, in Heather’s opinion.
“You’re such a worrier,” chortled her daughter. “We’re going to get married at a Las Vegas wedding chapel. The only guests will be you and John’s parents from Texas. You’ll bring the baby home and watch her for me during our honeymoon, won’t you? We’re going to celebrate right there in Vegas.”
“Of course,” Heather said.
Olive performed an impromptu dance that made Ginger laugh. “Your daddy’s coming home! I’m going to be a bride!”
“You need a dress,” Heather said.
“John told me to pick out a ring, too.” Olive started for the kitchen again.
“Where are you going?”
“To call my friend Julia to help me shop. I know how impatient you get in stores,” her daughter said. “Don’t argue. I’ll let you see what I choose before I make the final decision, okay?”
“All right.” Despite her sense that the mother of the bride ought to have a finger in every pie, Heather knew that after one hour in the mall, she’d start tapping her foot and biting her nails. “Leave the baby with me while you shop.”