by Tina Beckett
“That was probably it.” She lifted her brows and regarded him for a moment or two. “What ever happened to the desk?”
Heat sifted up Greg’s neck. So she had suspected the real reason he’d swapped it. Not that it had helped. The white pickled wood—so different from the rich mahogany of the previous desk—still seemed to be burned with the image of Hannah splayed across it.
And come to think of it, she rarely ventured into his office nowadays, whereas before, hardly a day had gone by that she hadn’t brought him coffee or stopped to chat about a patient. He used to be irritated by her apparent lack of boundaries, like the impulsive hug she’d given him when they’d still been patient and doctor—something his sister might have done.
His reaction to Hannah’s embrace, however, had been anything but brotherly. But as much as she confused him and caused him to forget himself, he found he missed those daily visits. And as for that old desk…
“It’s in storage.” He hadn’t quite been able to get rid of it entirely. The men had offered to haul it to a consignment shop, but he’d balked at the last second and instead rented a unit in one of the pricier, climate-controlled facilities. He figured he’d take care of it by the time the next rental payment was due.
“Oh.” Hannah’s face turned a delicate shade of pink. “Well, I guess I’d better get dressed. I’m sure you need to head back to the office.”
“I don’t have an appointment for another couple of hours.” He hadn’t been sure how long these initial obstetrician visits took, and he hadn’t wanted to leave in the middle of it. Not that he’d even needed to be here in the first place.
Yeah, he had. He’d needed to hear the risk factors in person, and to see Hannah’s reaction to them. He’d come away certain of one thing. She wanted this baby. Who was he to jeopardize that possibility?
And if he’d passed on some defective chromosome? Could he handle seeing his child go through the same thing his sister had endured somewhere down the road? He didn’t think so, but that wasn’t his choice to make. It was Hannah’s. And he wouldn’t have given up knowing his sister for anything. Her steadfast solidarity—after he told his father of his decision to go to med school—had been his rock during a time of seething turmoil and anger.
Hannah’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Unless you want me to get dressed in front of you, you might want to wait outside.”
Ah, okay, so that’s what she’d been getting at by telling him to go back to the office. He needed to pull himself together. Something about this woman made him say and do things that were completely out of character. “Sorry. I’ll…go. Out there.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door.
“I drove, so why don’t I just meet you back at the office?”
A wave of tension he hadn’t even been aware of rolled off his shoulders. “Do you want me to send the doctor back in?”
“That’s right. I forgot about her.” She paused, her eyes going to his. “You’ve never talked about your sister before. Did she…?”
“She didn’t make it.” The sorrow from years past gathered in his throat, and he had to swallow hard.
Hannah took his hand again. “I’m so sorry. How long ago?”
“About ten years.”
“So you weren’t a doctor at the time?”
He sighed, not liking the way her hand wrapped around his or how natural it felt. “I was in med school when she was diagnosed. It happened faster than anyone expected.” It was ironic that the very profession she’d encouraged him to pursue hadn’t been able to help her in the end.
“And yet you specialized in oncology. Isn’t that hard?” The compassion in her eyes was hard to face. And yet it wasn’t pity, simply a deep understanding. Of course. How stupid of him. Hannah had traveled the same road as his sister, only her illness had veered down a different fork and had had a much better outcome.
“It’s why I specialized. My sister was my biggest cheerleader when I decided to become a doctor. It seemed like the best way to thank her.” Why he’d blurted that out, he had no idea. He’d never told anyone his reasons for going into this particular field, not even his parents—although they probably knew.
“Of course.” The words were soft, carrying a hint of surprise, as if she’d just figured something out. “I need to get dressed.”
She let go of his hand, leaving an emptiness in its wake that he didn’t like. This was ridiculous. Even if she ended up carrying a human being that contained his D.N.A., that didn’t change their relationship. He was her employer, nothing more. And he’d yet to decide what he would be to her child—if it was even his. And that was pretty unlikely. At least he hoped it was. Because if that was the case, his life could go on unchanged, continue exactly as it had for the last ten years.
As he went through the door, he knew he was telling himself the worst kind of lie. His life—no matter what the outcome of any paternity test—would never be the same again.
* * *
“Itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout…”
The sing-song tune—coming from the next aisle over—was followed by the quick giggle of a child. Hannah couldn’t stop her lips from curving at the cheerful sound, despite her confused jumble of thoughts about Greg, his sister’s cancer and her own pregnancy.
As Greg had shared about his reasons for becoming an oncologist, memories of her own terrifying struggle had roared back to life, swamping her with memories of pain and fear. Those fears had stayed with her for the past week, refusing to seep away like they normally did. Maybe because she was now responsible for someone other than herself.
She’d come into the cavernous baby supercenter on a whim, hoping to replace the bad emotions with happy ones. But standing in the middle of the store, she’d been overwhelmed by the quantity of paraphernalia surrounding her. A chaotic jumble. Just like the feelings she’d been trying to escape.
That tiny giggle did what her own frantic attempts to tame her fears couldn’t: turned everything right side up so it could settle back into place. That happy laughter was why she’d wanted to get pregnant…why she was willing to go through all the doubt and uncertainty of being a single mom. She wandered over to where the sounds of singing continued and found a young mother, her dark hair shining as she leaned over a fancy baby stroller.
Hannah could almost imagine the woman’s fingers walking up her child’s belly as the song continued and another happy shriek filled the air, followed by the mom’s light chuckle.
Hannah’s smile widened. That would be her someday. At least, she hoped it would. But at the moment the thoughts of illness and fear still seemed terrifyingly real. Her hand went to her stomach, which at the seven-week point hadn’t begun to expand yet. But she knew the baby was there. She might even get to hear its heartbeat at her next scheduled appointment.
In the week since her initial check-up, Greg hadn’t said anything else about his sister’s illness or whether or not he’d spoken with anyone about testing, and Hannah was afraid to ask. She finally understood why he’d thrown himself headlong into his work. Doing what he hadn’t been able to do for his sister. No wonder he wasn’t involved with anyone. He was like a monk…someone who’d thrown aside his own creature comforts in order to seek a higher purpose in life.
And what of this child, if it was his? How could she expect Greg to change who he was? What he wanted out of life? She couldn’t. Another reason she’d come into the store today.
She wanted to be able to spend a few moments not thinking about the horrible possibilities and just enjoy being pregnant—but the thoughts had followed her inside. A year ago she’d wondered if it would even be possible for her to have a baby. And yet here she was. Expecting one. The thought should make her happier than she’d ever been.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Some of the tension left her. And as she watched the mother and baby interact, a sense of rightness washed over her. Nothing else mattered at the moment. She’d live for the here and now.
Worrying about the future was futile, as she’d learned through her own fight. She couldn’t change the outcome, could only do her best to optimize her chances for survival.
That’s what she’d do for this baby, as well. She couldn’t change what might or might not happen in the weeks or years to come, but she was making an effort to eat right and to do what she could to stay healthy in the present. She’d worry about the other stuff as it came up.
The mom, a few yards away, suddenly looked over her shoulder as if sensing someone was watching her. “Sorry,” she said, her smile big. “I didn’t realize anyone could hear me.”
When she straightened, Hannah realized the woman not only had a baby in the stroller but that she appeared to be pregnant again, as well. “I was enjoying your baby’s laughter. I just found out I’m expecting.”
“So am I. Congratulations.” The woman nodded at her own stomach. “My husband couldn’t be here for his daughter’s birth, but we’re hoping he’ll be home for this one.”
Hannah’s mind was working on the first part of that statement, when the young mother explained. “He was deployed to Iraq. I found out I was pregnant with her—” she reached into the carriage to stroke the child’s head “—right after he left.”
“I’m glad he’ll be here for the new baby.”
The woman laughed again. “Me, too. I didn’t get to yell any profanities at him during labor.”
Hannah smiled. “Who was with you?”
“My mom. Cussing your mother out isn’t quite the same.” She shook her head. “And, no, I didn’t.”
“I didn’t think you did.” Hannah didn’t want to think about the fact that her own baby’s father probably wouldn’t be there for the delivery either. Definitely wouldn’t be if it was the donor’s child, but even if it was Greg’s, she couldn’t see him wanting to be there for such an intimate event. The more businesslike they kept things the better for both of them. Something in her chest started aching all over again at the thought.
She’d chosen this route, and she would not allow herself to regret it now. And, honestly, she didn’t. Not knowing the father’s identity made life a little bizarre at times but she wouldn’t go back and undo the pregnancy, even if it was a result of that night.
“I hope your pregnancy goes well,” the woman said.
“Thank you. I hope yours does, too.”
The baby in the carriage started to fuss, tiny mewling cries replacing the happy laughter from a few moments earlier. “Sorry,” she said. “I have to get moving or she’s going to let loose. I just came in to pick up some diapers, but couldn’t resist looking around for a while. Unfortunately, big sister is getting hungry.”
“I understand completely. I’ll let you get back to it.”
As the woman moved away from her, the sound of soft singing again floated through the air as the young mother tried to hush the child’s cries. A wave of longing went through Hannah. That’s what she wanted for her newborn. Not the baby daddy drama she was currently embroiled in but the simple happy singing of a mother to her child. She touched her stomach as if she could somehow transmit some of the woman’s joy to her own child.
She started walking again, whispering, “Hey, baby. Be happy, okay?”
But Hannah neither heard not felt anything within her, except a deep sense of loneliness that grew steadily stronger with each step she took.
CHAPTER TEN
STELLA glanced in Hannah’s direction as she spoke to whoever was on the phone and pointed toward the receiver and then toward Hannah. “I’ll send her right over.”
She hung up. “Greg wants you over at the hospital for some reason. Do you mind?”
“Did he say why?”
Her boss never sent for her, always wanting at least one of them at the clinic to attend to patients. But, then again, since he did a lot of the scheduling, he’d know by looking at his little black book that there was a lull for the next two hours. Her nose crinkled. It was also lunchtime and she’d been hoping to sit and eat in peace, gearing up for the afternoon patients.
“Sorry, he didn’t give a reason.”
“Okay.” She sighed and went to get her purse. Was there an emergency with one of their patients? With Claire Taylor, the woman who’d come in a couple of weeks ago?
Hannah arrived at Alaska Regional in fifteen minutes and made her way to the oncology building at the far end of the hospital campus. Greg was waiting for her just inside the entrance, along with a man in a lab coat—so it wasn’t about a patient, unless the man was there on a consult. If that was the case, why did they need her?
“I’d like you to meet Bill Watterson,” Greg said. “He’s a medical geneticist.”
Hannah blinked, her mind whirring in confusion. Why would he be introducing her to a…?
Things clicked into place. She shook hands with the newcomer and murmured a greeting she hoped didn’t relay her growing anger. He’d never mentioned meeting with a geneticist today. She gave a tight smile and turned to Greg. “Could I speak to you for a minute?”
Bill Watterson, evidently picking up on the tension between them, excused himself, saying he was going to get a coffee and would be back in a few minutes.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Hannah propped her hands on her hips. “You told him?”
Greg frowned for a second, then his face cleared. “I didn’t tell him about the pregnancy, no. I wanted his take on my situation, whether or not my sister’s myeloid leukemia could be the familial version. If so, I was looking for some reassurance. I thought you might want to hear what he had to say, as well.”
“Oh.” All the anger seeped away. “Sorry, I just—” She’d thought he’d gone behind her back, but somehow admitting that now didn’t seem like a wise thing to do.
“I’m trying to respect your privacy here, Hannah, but I’d be irresponsible if I let you think your child was free from risk when that might not be the case. I did a little research and familial myeloid leukemia is autosomal dominant.”
“Meaning it only takes one parent to pass down the gene?”
“Yes.”
A blip of fear appeared on her radar screen. “Did your sister have the familial version?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I talked to Bill. My grandfather also died of leukemia at a relatively young age, but it was never identified as to type.”
“And your parents?”
“Neither have had it, but they’re in their late fifties. There’s still time for it to appear.” Greg touched her hand. “Will you meet with Bill? Talk to him with me?”
What choice did she have? She couldn’t just turn her back on something this important, not without educating herself on the possibilities. “Yes.”
“I thought we’d talk in one of the exam rooms here at the hospital. I didn’t think you’d want Stella and the rest of the staff overhearing.”
She appreciated him thinking about that, even if he’d just scared ten years off her life. “Thank you.”
Bill stood off to the side, sipping a cup of coffee, and she followed Greg as he went over to him. “I think we’re ready.”
They went to one of the far exam rooms. There were already three chairs set up, so Greg had been prepared, just in case. They each took a seat.
Greg started the conversation. “I’ve already told you about my sister’s and grandfather’s leukemia.”
“You wanted to know more about the familial version, right?”
“Yes.”
Bill glanced at Hannah, who by now was sitting with her icy hands clasped in her lap, another invisible hand clenched tight around her heart. He gave her a reassuring smile.
He knew. Without anyone having to say a word.
“Familial acute myeloid leukemia is fairly rare. I’m assuming you’ve already looked up some information.”
“I did, but wanted to hear directly from someone with some expertise in the field, otherwise I’m just guessing.”
“Well, if you carry the mutati
on, it’ll be in the CEBPA gene. Was your sister tested for type?”
“I don’t know. I was in med school at the time, and things were…tense between me and my parents. They played down the seriousness of her illness—at my sister’s request—until it was late in the game.”
Greg had talked about his sister being his biggest cheerleader when he’d made his decision to go to med school. Had things been tense with his folks because of that decision?
“I see,” said Bill. “We might be able to look up her records and see if her doctors identified anything. Any other cases in your family?”
“Just my maternal grandfather. I don’t know of anyone further back, although it’s possible.”
Bill nodded. “The familial cases I’ve followed have all had an affected parent, as well. If yours are both healthy, I’d say it’s unlikely you carry the defect.”
“But you couldn’t say for sure.”
“No, not without sending a sample of your marrow in for testing.”
Hannah spoke up. “That’s ridiculous, Greg. Why would you do that? If your parents are healthy, then you probably don’t have it. Even if you did, the possibility of passing it on is only…” She glanced at Bill, hoping he’d fill in the blank for her.
“It would be roughly fifty percent.”
Hannah’s heart stalled. “A fifty percent chance that any child he fathered would contract leukemia?”
“No. Just that they’d carry the gene. I would never recommend prenatal testing unless a definite familial link had been determined. In other words, I’d recommend testing for the affected family first.” Bill turned to Greg who’d gone pale.
“If you can get me your sister’s records, I’ll take a look. I really don’t think it’s going to go any further than that. If it does, we can have you tested. Familial myeloid follows a pretty set pattern, though. From what you’ve told me, I’m not seeing any cause for concern here.”
Greg stood. “Thanks. I’ll make sure you get Bethany’s records.”
