She was going to have to face her former fiancé sooner rather than later.
* * *
WHAT HAD JAN BEEN DOING at school this morning? As far as Zack knew, she’d never married and he’d heard nothing about children.
He speculated about her reasons as he prepped for surgery later that morning. Giving up a child for adoption might sound easy in the abstract, but Zack had seen patients suffer stress and self-blame years after relinquishing a baby. He’d experienced some of the same pangs himself. The fact that Rima was a single parent with a daughter had been part of the initial attraction, a way to atone at least partially for his mistakes.
And he’d made big ones.
It wouldn’t surprise him if Jan had eventually adopted a child, perhaps a preschooler from a troubled home. Which gives us even more in common than a shared passion for the egg-donor program. And a painful past he’d like to put behind them.
Earlier, her stunned expression when their gazes met had reverberated through him. Regardless of the public setting, he’d nearly gone over to talk to her.
To apologize, again, more thoroughly than the brief conversation they’d had over the phone when he’d tracked her down months after their breakup, late in her pregnancy. It had taken Zack much too long to learn the truth about the allegations against her, which had led to their parting, and to realize how wrong he’d been. By then her anger toward him had hardened into an impenetrable wall. And he’d made commitments to someone else who needed him badly.
All the same, the sight of Jan today had punched him in the gut. He’d forgotten how vibrant she was. That rich dark hair, those teasing eyes...
Zack brought himself up sharply. They had to establish a new relationship as fellow professionals, able to discuss medical issues without distractions.
“Is everything all right, Doctor?” Surgical nurse Stacy Raditch was already scrubbed in for the operation.
“First day of school,” he said. “It’s hard to see my little girl growing up.”
“Berry’s such a darling!” The young nurse always made a point of chatting with his daughter at staff events. “What grade is she in?”
“Third.” Glad for the change of subject, Zack kept up a desultory conversation as they went into the operating room. He then spoke with the patient, who was undergoing a microsurgical procedure called a tubal anastomosis to reverse a tubal ligation that had rendered her sterile. After her previous marriage to a man who didn’t want children, she and her new husband were eager to restore her fertility.
Using a surgical microscope and other specialized tools, Zack would reopen her fallopian tubes to allow fertilization. “As I told you, there’s a high rate of success with this procedure,” he assured the woman. “You may even be able to become pregnant naturally, without in vitro.”
“That would be wonderful.” Her hair hidden beneath a cap, she smiled up at him weakly. “Our insurance doesn’t cover those high-tech infertility treatments, so...”
Zack touched her shoulder reassuringly. Her situation wasn’t unusual. The miracles accomplished by modern technology came at a price. That was why he was pushing to establish a grant program for infertile patients. If he or one of the other obstetricians who agreed with him managed to win the hospital’s promotional Hope Challenge, they’d have a $100,000 charitable donation to start their fund.
Only three months to go. The physician achieving the highest pregnancy rate with infertile patients could choose where to donate the prize money. Zack was only in fourth place so far, in part because he devoted a lot of his time to learning new surgical and implantation techniques rather than scheduling additional patients. Of the three doctors ahead of him, only one—Dr. Paige Brennan—openly backed his plan.
He resolutely cleared all other considerations from his mind. He faced a delicate surgery requiring precision to reconnect tissues by stitching them together.
Right now, this patient was the only one that mattered.
* * *
JAN SPENT THE MORNING settling into her office on the hospital’s ground floor and meeting some of the fertility-clinic staff. Originally, she’d planned to arrive months earlier, but she’d been held up by contractual obligations at her Houston job. Now she had to play catch-up.
She’d gotten in touch ahead of time with Melissa Everhart, who as coordinator for in vitro fertilization—IVF—would play a major role in working with the hospital’s future roster of egg donors. Finally, today, they would meet face-to-face. Jan also was introduced to Dr. Cole Rattigan, the new head of the men’s fertility program, who had the office next to hers, and Karen Wiggins, the financial counselor for infertile patients.
How ironic she’d become pregnant by accident, Jan reflected while eating a sandwich at her desk. Still, having a child gave her a powerful connection with the women and couples she served.
How was Kimmie faring at school? Was she making new friends? When Jan initially learned she was pregnant, she’d been eager to give up the baby and reclaim her life. Somewhere during the pregnancy, though, she’d ceased to be a separate person and had become part of a pair so interwoven she had a hard time thinking of herself without Kimmie.
Still, her daughter was growing up. Second grade already.
Jan turned her attention to preparing notes for tomorrow’s organizational staff meeting. No two egg-donor programs were exactly alike. A lot of decisions had to be made before their official launch next spring.
The doctors would continue to rely on other egg banks until then. Luckily, there were quite a few in Southern California.
Jan’s job was to establish an in-house donor program. In addition to soliciting and screening women as potential donors, she planned to implement a method called shared cycles that eased the financial burden for some patients while increasing the supply of available eggs. Sometimes a woman produced viable eggs but still needed to have them fertilized in the laboratory and then implanted, perhaps because of blocked fallopian tubes. If she chose to share her cycle, the patient donated half of her retrieved eggs—usually far more than could be safely implanted in her own womb—to another woman who couldn’t produce any. The term shared cycles derived from the fact that both donor and recipient took hormones on the same schedule to prepare for simultaneous implantation. The recipient paid for the eggs, enough to cover a significant portion of the donor mom’s expenses.
There were drawbacks, of course. The woman producing the eggs might prefer to have them frozen for her own use later. Plus, not everyone felt comfortable with the idea of someone else carrying and raising her genetic child, especially since there was no guarantee she herself would become pregnant. Still, for those short of money, it made dreams affordable.
A tap at her half-open door broke Jan’s concentration. “Yes?”
A deep green gaze met hers. Sensitive mouth, questioning expression, powerful shoulders she’d clung to when they made love... Why did she have to remember that now?
“Zack.” Her mouth was too dry to say more.
“Hi.” He tilted his head invitingly. “Jan, we need to talk. I’m grabbing lunch in the cafeteria. Care to join me?”
No point in making excuses. “I could use a coffee.” And some divine intervention.
With what she hoped passed for a smile, Jan got to her feet.
Chapter Two
Now that he’d started the ball rolling, Zack wished he’d planned what to say. He’d stopped in to see Jan because he wanted to talk
privately before tomorrow’s meeting. As professionals, they needed to establish a good working relationship.
He also wanted to find out why she’d been at the school this morning.
In the cafeteria, Zack chose a sandwich plate with fruit while Jan poured herself a coffee. He paid for both orders and glanced around the busy dining room. Although there were a few free tables, his three years here had given Zack a healthy respect for the grapevine. Gossip spread rapidly, fed by certain nosy individuals. You never knew who might be listening.
“Let’s try the patio,” he said.
“Sure.” Jan’s expression betrayed nothing.
Eight years ago, when he’d met her at the hospital where they’d both worked in Los Angeles, she’d been an open-faced twenty-two-year-old with a newly minted nursing degree and a joyful aura he’d warmed to instantly.
Now her long lashes hid her gaze and she kept her full lips clamped shut. Well, what had he expected?
Outside, Zack was relieved to see the patio empty. Surrounded by a flowering hedge and a few squatty palm trees, its handful of tables offered privacy.
He set his tray on one. “I suppose you’ve heard we’ll be working together.”
Coffee sloshed onto the table. “What do you mean?”
Although there was no official designation, Zack had assumed Dr. Tartikoff would tell her of his interest. “I’m eager to help get the egg-donor program off the ground,” he said, mopping her spilled coffee with a paper napkin. “I’ve been learning new techniques from Dr. T and brushing up on my embryology with Alec Denny’s help. You’ll need a physician to work with you closely. I’ve arranged my schedule so I’ll be available.”
Still on her feet, she glared at him. “Why are you doing this?”
Zack could see he’d gone about this the wrong way. “I was excited about the project before I had any idea who the director would be. Please, sit down. Unless there’s coffee on your chair.”
Jan ran her hand over the seat. “All clear.” She edged onto it as if ready to bolt. Collar-length hair fell forward, shielding her face. A man didn’t have to be psychic to read that body language.
“I came to Safe Harbor to be part of something cutting-edge. When I heard Dr. Tartikoff had been hired, I was over the moon.” Helping women and couples have babies had become a passion for Zack, perhaps because he’d had to give up his own child all those years ago.
Don’t mention that. She’s tense enough already.
Jan released a long breath. “You’ll be at tomorrow’s meeting? Dr. T hasn’t sent me a complete list of who he invited. He doesn’t seem as organized as he used to be.”
“I guess you know he got married and has young twins,” Zack said. “He may be a powerhouse, but those late nights take their toll.”
“Does he run roughshod over his wife? I understand she’s a nurse.”
Obviously, Jan hadn’t met Bailey. Still, Zack understood the question. He’d heard the brilliant but abrasive Dr. T had terrified his staff in Boston even while inspiring them. “She’s as tough as he is, in her own charming way.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Zack took a moment to eat while weighing his next move. They’d broken the ice, so he’d accomplished that much. Despite the curiosity nagging at him, he’d better stay on neutral ground for now.
“You’ve heard about the Hope Challenge?” She couldn’t participate, since she wasn’t a doctor, but the results might affect her program.
“Owen’s been raving about it.” She’d relaxed enough to refer to Dr. T by his first name. A good sign. “I gather there’s been positive feedback in blogs and from the press. I presume the point is to promote the hospital and the fertility program.”
“It helps establish our name recognition with the public,” Zack agreed. “Not that we’re short of patients.”
“This contest—how does it work?” She, too, was sticking to neutral topics, thank goodness. “Does it count conceptions, live births or total number of babies born?”
“Confirmed conceptions,” Zack said. “Each pregnancy counts once, no matter how many babies a woman is carrying. We don’t want to encourage multiple births.” Those were dangerous, as Zack frequently explained to his patients. Having triplets or quads might sound like heaven when a couple had been struggling to achieve a pregnancy, but the results could be devastating if the babies were premature or had birth defects.
“There’s a hundred-thousand-dollar prize for this contest, right?” Jan said. “That’s very generous of the hospital corporation.”
“The winning doctor gets to designate the charity. I’m pushing for whoever wins to establish a grant program for fertility patients.”
“That’s a great idea!” Jan’s face lit with interest. “How would you choose the recipients? Strictly by financial need?”
Zack had given this a lot of thought. “I’d like us to consider the woman’s age as well, and whether she already has children. If this is her only chance, that would weigh on her side. We might also look at her medical and psychological history, although I’d hate to be in the position of passing judgment.”
“Still, having a program in place would help at least some patients.” Jan frowned. “Isn’t there a competing proposal? Something to do with a counseling center?”
“You’ve met our administrator, Dr. Mark Rayburn?” Seeing her nod, Zack continued. “His wife, pediatrician Samantha Forrest, set up an informal program a few years ago to offer peer counseling. The idea was to reach families, teen moms and others who might shy away from a formal environment with a lot of paperwork. It’s done some good, thanks to volunteers, but it’s never established an endowment and always seems to be on the verge of failing. The last I heard, it may lose its quarters at the city’s community center.”
“Well-intentioned,” Jan murmured. “Not likely to become self-sustaining, if it hasn’t done so already. I like your idea better.”
He felt a glimmer of their old connection. What a pleasure it had been, after growing up with cold, critical parents, to bat ideas back and forth freely with Jan.
Things had been different with Rima. Her health issues and Berry’s care had dominated their relationship, as Zack had expected from the start.
His thoughts returned to Jan. While he could play it safe and leave the conversation on a high note, eventually they’d have to discuss the elephant in the room. Might as well do that now.
He decided to edge into the subject. “In case you’re looking for an after-school sitter, did Kate Franco mention that her sister Mary Beth Ellroy runs a home day care center? They pick up my daughter Berry at school, and usually they’re willing to let her sleep over when I’m on call.”
He’d employed two nannies when Berry was younger. Although they’d both worked well for a while, parting had been an emotional wrench. Also, Zack had slipped into a routine of relying on the nannies when he should have been clearing as much time as possible for his daughter. Since Berry had started school, he’d relied on Mary Beth, who offered a home environment that included her own three children.
“Kate didn’t say anything.” Jan fiddled with her empty cup.
“I’m not prying.” Oh, the hell he wasn’t. “Yes, I am. I saw you at school today. You have a child there?”
“My mother lives fifteen minutes away.”
What did that have to do with anything? Oh, right, day care. “She watches your—is it a son or daughter?”
She leaned back, eyes
averted. “Daughter.”
Eight years ago she’d been pregnant with a girl. His daughter. A speck of suspicion he’d been unwilling to acknowledge swelled in his gut. “I hadn’t heard that you’d married. I thought maybe you’d adopted.”
“Adopted?”
For heaven’s sake, enough beating around the bush. “What’s going on, Jan?”
Deep breath. Long pause.
This can’t be what I think it is. All these years, Zack had imagined his daughter adopted by a married couple. He’d worried whether he’d done the right thing by waiving his rights and tried to convince himself he had. Jan hadn’t mentioned any particular family or adoption center when she thrust the relinquishment papers in front of him, and matters had been so tense he hadn’t pressed her. Still, it had never occurred to him she might betray his trust completely.
In fairness, by the time he’d learned she’d been wrongly accused of harming a patient, and realized how badly he’d let her down, he’d been engaged to Rima. When Jan brushed off his apology and insisted her family was helping her through the pregnancy, Zack had rationalized away his uneasiness and left matters in her hands.
Now he waited apprehensively for her explanation.
“Well,” Jan began. Just then the patio door opened and two nurses came out.
Zack struggled to hide his annoyance. One of the nurses was Stacy, who eyed them wearing a troubled expression. She’d made no secret of liking Zack, although he’d never given her any reason to think he returned her interest. While she seemed both pleasant and skilled as a scrub nurse, he’d never felt so much as a quiver of excitement around her.
The other woman, Erica Vaughn, assisted Dr. T in surgery. She’d moved here from Boston a little over a year ago to join his team, at his request. As she swooped toward them, Zack remembered with chagrin that she and Jan must be old acquaintances.
“Jan! It’s great to see you.” Erica paused, lunch tray in hand. “Are we interrupting?”
SH Medical 09 - The M.D.'s Secret Daughter Page 2