Today wasn’t even his day to cover the baby ward. He’d only been passing by, but he wanted to check on his daughter. Plus, he had a zebra-patterned soft toy to deliver. One of the NICU nurses had explained that newborns responded to that pattern and it was good for infant eye development. And so he couldn’t resist a visit.
With impeccable timing, Terrance rounded the corner and observed the most riveting sight of his life. There before him sat Jaynie Winchester, bare-shouldered and wrapped in a sarong made out of a thin hospital bath blanket. Tara’s tiny head was wedged between her full breasts. The most incredible look of contentment graced Jaynie’s face as she looked down at the baby tucked snugly to her chest. At first he thought she was nursing, and he panicked, tried to retreat, but couldn’t bring his feet to move.
Seeing Jaynie and Tara before him, a modern-day portrait of Madonna and Child, he stood dead in his tracks. He couldn’t manage to turn himself in the other direction and race out of the room, like any gentleman would.
Jaynie’s head of soft, full curls outlined her face and fell across her shoulders. Her eyes were serenely closed. Running the risk of being a shameless voyeur if he didn’t do something besides stand there and ogle a half-dressed woman—who happened to be the mother of his child—Terrance cleared his throat and prepared to speak. But then thought better of it.
Overwhelmed with emotion, coupled with days of insomnia and soul-searching over life and his priorities, and people he cared about, he felt his eyes go blurry. He sniffed and swallowed, and fought the surge of feelings.
Astounding.
Wanting simultaneously to curse Jaynie for messing up his plans, and rush to her side to tell her he was Tara’s father, Terrance withstood the urge, knowing it would only complicate things further. Jaynie had never meant to become anything more than a family of two. Butting into her dreams and plans with his sperm donor news would only mix her up. And Lord only knew he was mixed up enough for both of them. She deserved more than that, and she needed all of her energy to deal with being a mother for Tara. No, it wasn’t fair to drop a bomb like that and run.
And, besides, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a real father. As long as he kept the information to himself, he had an option to back out, without ever hurting Jaynie or appearing like a coward.
If he didn’t think he could stand the responsibility of fatherhood, the risk of loving someone more than life itself and the pain of loss, he could retreat with his macho pride. And he had out-of-state medical school interviews to prepare for as a distraction.
The usual excitement he felt when he thought about his future didn’t manage to rally itself while he stood there watching Jaynie and Tara. Instead, his heart ached with a strange sense of yearning.
He took one last look at what should be the center of his universe and made a decision. He wouldn’t tell Jaynie he was the father…not yet. First, he needed more time to sort out his feelings for her and their child. And he could give Tara the zebra toy another day.
*
Another week passed and Tara was showing great promise, with a few ounces of weight gain and a stronger rooting reflex. Every time Jaynie swaddled and held her the little mouth seemed to search for a nipple, and on several occasions, with the nurse’s encouragement, she had offered herself for Tara’s exploration. Jaynie dreamed of the day when she’d finally get to nurse her.
“When we go home, you’ll have your own room, and lots and lots of toys.” Jaynie spoke quietly to her snoozing baby. “You’ll get to eat and sleep all you want—”
“Speaking of eating—” Terrance’s deep voice interrupted.
Jaynie’s glance shot across the room, finding him instantly. Her eyes went wide, and a tiny gasp escaped her lips. “Oh, hi.”
Reaching lightning-fast for a small cotton blanket, she draped it over her shoulder, covering both her and Tara. A flush of heat rose up her cheeks.
“Hi,” he said.
Tara jerked her head and Jaynie smoothed her fingers over the baby’s neck to help settle her down.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, raising his hands and moving closer. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but to be honest you stunned me.” His face flushed, which struck her as odd. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“No, you didn’t.” She smiled and shook her head. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Have you been away on a big adventure? Waterfall-surfing or something?” she teased, with a playful glance his way.
He scratched his jaw. “Now, that sounds like it has possibilities.” His eyes searched for hers, and when they met, she was struck by the change in his look from horsing around to dead serious. “Actually, I thought it was about time I took you out for another meal. You’re looking skinny—except for that large growth on your chest.”
She flashed a look at her ample cleavage over the top of the swaddling blanket, with Tara’s head tucked between, and subtly pulled it up a bit higher. Terrance’s cheeks grew the faintest shade of pink.
“I didn’t mean those… I meant that…” He scrubbed his hand across his face and grimaced.
Jaynie laughed at how he’d put his foot in his mouth…again. But Terrance recovered quickly.
“I meant the little bundle there.” He pointed toward Tara. Serious again, he continued. “Anyway, how about it?” He clapped his hands together. “Will you have dinner with me tonight, after I get off work?”
Tara startled. Jaynie soothed her.
Terrance covered his eyes and grimaced—again. Sorry, he mouthed.
Jaynie had been spending a lot of time in the nursery, and even more time alone at home. The thought of keeping company with Terrance had a certain appeal.
“Thanks for asking. I’d like that. I’ll need to go home and change, so you can pick me up there.”
Judging by the smile on his face, she’d given the right answer.
CHAPTER SIX
JAYNIE put her arm around Arpita as the doctors whisked Manish off to surgery. “What’s going on?”
Arpita wrung her hands. “He started passing blood in his diapers. They said he needs surgery for a blockage.” She burst out in tears. “What am I going to do?”
Jaynie’s nursing background had her thinking it was necrotizing enterocolitis causing little Manish’s problems. The earlier respiratory infection hadn’t helped his oxygen level in the least, and she also knew he was anemic on top of that. Adding it all together, his colon had most likely developed an area of weakness, and, being opportunist, bacteria probably found a place to thrive. Manish had been looking bloated and uncomfortable recently. At a mere two and a half pounds, and eating poorly, things must have gotten worse. The surgeon would need to remove the area in question, which would mean an even longer struggle to survive, thrive and finally go home.
Poor Manish.
Jaynie held Arpita’s tense fists and tried her best to offer silent support until her husband, Baldeep, and her mother-in-law arrived. After that, Jaynie sat on pins and needles beside Tara’s bed, praying for surgical success for Manish, and waiting for news.
*
That evening, no one answered the door at Jaynie’s when Terrance knocked. He tried again. Nothing.
If she’s not here, she must be at the hospital.
He hopped into his hybrid car and headed for Mercy.
Just before arriving at the NICU, Terrance saw and recognized a couple leaving the ward. The husband supported the wife, who was crying and nearly hysterical. “Baldeep,” she croaked between gasps. “Why?”
A pained look drew Baldeep’s large black eyes together as he wrapped his arms around the young woman. “He was too small, Arpita. Too young.”
Her lively colored sari seemed sadly out of place as he led her away.
Terrance clenched his jaw and his stomach knotted. He knew what they were going through all too well.
He entered the unit and found Jaynie sitting and rocking, looking stunned. Her hand rested carefully on Tara’s isolette for support.
A cascade of tears ran down her flushed cheeks.
He rushed to her and knelt, but didn’t need to ask what was wrong.
She stared straight ahead, devastated. “Manish died in surgery.” Jaynie removed her glasses, covered her face with the crumpled tissue she clutched in her hands and wept.
Lifting her to stand, Terrance guided her to the R.T. blood gas room for privacy. After closing the door, he drew her to his chest. She hugged her arms to her heart and buried her head in his shoulder. Rocking to and fro, he stroked her soft curls with one hand and smoothed her back with the other.
He inhaled the fresh scent of her hair and skin, and wanted more than anything to take away her pain. He kissed the crown of her head and squeezed her tighter, feeling her tremble beneath his grasp. The depth of her sadness took his breath away. He knew this pain—pain that ripped the air from your lungs, strangled your heart and took your will to live away. He fought a wave of nausea and concentrated on Jaynie.
She turned her head and tucked herself under his chin, easing her arms around his back.
God, he loved how she felt. An intense desire to comfort her helped him focus solely on the lady in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Jaynie. I’m sure they did everything they could to save him.”
Jaynie gulped and wiped at her tears. “He was so precious and helpless.”
…and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
Terrance recalled the last night he’d put Emily to bed. His ex-wife had had a headache, and he’d volunteered for the job. Her precious gurgles and sparkling elfin eyes had looked at him with all the trust in the world. She’d been teething, and had needed some baby medicine.
He’d played with her chubby toes while he changed her diaper, and his ex-wife had scolded him from the other room. “Don’t get her all riled up.”
He’d looked at Emily and poked her belly button. “I’m not getting you all riled up, am I?”
She’d let out an ecstatic squeal, and he’d shushed her, just before he’d kissed her goodnight…
He kissed Jaynie’s forehead and she looked into his eyes, saying, “I don’t think I could survive if Tara died.”
Biting back the pain that squeezed his chest, he grazed her smooth cheek with his own and whispered into her ear, “Then we’ll just have to make sure that Tara will always be fine.”
She turned her face ever so slightly, as if she meant to say something. The move brought their lips together. Tentative, as though it was a mistake, he waited for Jaynie to withdraw. She didn’t. Then in a rush, their mouths merged, warm, soft and open, like lovers.
Like parents, united by tragedy.
Hesitant to overstep his bounds, he held back, soon realizing she didn’t seem to mind. Terrance tested the velvet-smooth warmth of Jaynie’s mouth. His gentle kisses turned intense and deep. He found her tongue and explored with his own, savoring the sweet taste. His body flushed with fire when he nibbled the soft pads of her lips and tasted the salt from her tears.
In a flare of excitement she kissed him back, moving her arms from around his waist to his neck. Her warm hands drew him downward and pressed his face closer to hers. Pulling her flush to his chest, he sensed the heat of her breasts, running his hands up her sides, then turning his head to delve deeper into her luscious mouth. The tip of her tongue pressed firmly against his, she brushed and swirled, and he heard himself groan in response. They’d crossed over the line from comfort kiss to raw passion.
Desire ran deep, but, remembering where they were, he regrettably tore himself away.
Breathless, and stunned by what had just happened, he found it hard to focus. Jaynie rested her head on his chest again, this time more relaxed. Perhaps the kiss was exactly what she’d needed. He forced his racing pulse to slow down and embraced her for several more moments, memorizing every tantalizing second of their encounter. He inhaled her sweet fragrance, and when she had had enough he pressed his lips to the crown of her head one last time.
She looked up and smiled at him with wide brown eyes. “Thank you for being here for me,” she said.
“What are friends for?”
They both chuckled at his misstatement.
He grew serious, and tried again. “I can’t think of any place else I’d rather be.”
He saw the look of deep appreciation in her gaze, and longed for something more. He longed to tell her the truth about the situation. But things were too complicated, and he had too many secrets. And one of them—I’m the donor—could blow their friendship off the planet for good.
They held hands and went back inside the NICU. They watched Tara’s perfection for several more minutes, which gave Terrance a chance to digest what had just happened.
“Look,” she said, “her little extra fingers are gone.”
He nodded, and thoughtlessly rubbed the faint scars on his own hands. Evidence of the gene he had given her.
When Jaynie’s stomach growled, he gently bumped her with his shoulder. “Let’s go eat.”
She didn’t argue.
*
*
Later, when he walked her to her door, he didn’t press his luck with another kiss. But one thing was for sure: his feelings for Jaynie went beyond infatuation, and he intended to explore their depth. He owed that much to himself.
They had avoided the subject of the kiss over dinner, and spent most of the evening talking about Manish, and Arpita and Baldeep’s grief. And, of course, they’d talked about Tara.
Just before Jaynie unlocked her door and prepared to go inside, he noticed a large box on the doorstep. “What’s this?”
“Call me crazy, but I bought a satellite dish so I can watch the baby channel. Tomorrow I’m planning to call a handyman to set it up. Or maybe I’ll save the money and do it myself. It comes with instructions.”
“I’m off tomorrow.” He’d postpone his plans to write up his latest biochem lab results and study for the upcoming test. “Just say the word, and I’m all yours.”
She narrowed her eyes and half smiled. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“Why not? Do you think I’d let you climb on the roof and risk breaking your neck so Tara can be an orphan?”
“So I should let you risk breaking your neck?” she said, incredulously.
“I’m a guy. I was born to climb roofs, sweetheart.” He gave a lopsided grin and hopped onto the porch railing, then hung from the eave, swinging and showing off like a cocky teenager. The silly things she brought out in him.
Gimlet-eyed, she beamed, and Terrance thought he detected a spark he’d never seen before. He hoped it had something to do with their kiss.
After dangling awhile, giving Jaynie a chance to think, he swung down, landing directly in front of her. She took a tiny step back. Her glance darted to her toes.
“What time do you want me?”
“I’ll be home from Tara’s bath by ten,” she said, lifting her head.
“I’ll be here.” He winked, and darn if she didn’t blush. He liked that.
Jaynie ran her hand along her neck and looked flustered. A moth piloted past her head on its way toward the porch light. Jaynie’s smile made Terrance want to grab her and start kissing her all over again, but he swatted at the moth instead.
“Okay, then,” she said.
He had no intention of moving until she closed the door. “Okay.” He grinned back like a kid, cupping the moth in his fist, resisting the tickle in his palm, savoring the look on her face.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. “Okiedokey,” she stuttered. “G-goodnight.” And she closed the door.
He stood his ground for several seconds, saw her turn around and lean against her hands on the thick beveled glass door, and when he listened carefully he thought he heard her sigh.
Then he released the captured moth into the night, and followed it home.
*
Promptly at ten a.m. on a bright and crisp spring morning, Terrance showed up wearing a sleeveless tee
shirt and jeans with rips in both knees. A utility belt with an assortment of tools graced his narrow hips. Instead of being pulled back in a tight, low ponytail, his hair hung loose.
Jaynie caught her breath at the sight. She’d been reeling over their passionate kiss all night, and wondered how she could have acted so wantonly in a hospital, after her friend’s baby had just died. Confusion over Terrance and what he did to her didn’t even scratch the surface of the emotions battling inside her head.
Tanned, muscular arms and hands lifted the satellite dish out of the box with ease. A long leg and strong thigh used the veranda rail as leverage to boost both him and the equipment onto the roof.
He didn’t even need a ladder.
Jaynie ignored the flutter of dueling hummingbirds in her chest, and fought off a sigh and a good old-fashioned breast-heave. “Holler if you need anything.”
“Sure will,” he said.
She closed the screen, but left the door open, and went to the kitchen to make him pancakes. The least she could do was feed him.
Forty-five minutes later he tapped on her screen door. Two lines of sweat streaked both temples. All man. She caught a whiff of his pheromones, and almost felt her milk let down.
He wolfed down the buckwheat pancakes she’d made for him, gulped the fresh-squeezed OJ and grinned. “Thanks. That was fantastic. Now, let’s check out your new TV channels,” he said, and slid back the kitchen chair.
Following his lead, she joined him in the other room. And over the next several minutes they watched a woman demonstrate how to make homemade baby food, using some fancy steaming tray, a hand-cranked gizmo that cost $19.99 and fresh vegetables.
Interrupting her thoughts about making baby food, the message from her chest came loud and clear. Time to pump.
Realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, Jaynie hesitated. “I’m…um…going to have to pay a visit to my…thingie.” She waved her hand toward her bedroom and felt her cheeks flame up.
Clueless, he studied her like a partner in charades, waiting for the next clue. “Your ‘thingie’?”
HER BABY'S SECRET FATHER Page 7
