Expecting the Doctor's Baby

by Teresa Southwick

  His mom chewed on a piece of white meat for a moment, then swallowed. “Is it a Ryan family rule that I can’t be thankful for my son?”

  “Of course you can,” Sam answered warmly. “My brother was just kidding.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” he chimed in. “That’s too easy.”

  “There’s nothing easy about family,” Mitch said, meeting his mother’s gaze around the tall candle between them.

  “There’s nothing more precious, either,” Sam said.

  Ellen sent her a measuring look. “I agree. Those of us who have lost a loved one appreciate things just a little more.”

  “Isn’t that an occupational hazard?” Arnold Ryan asked.

  “On the police force there’s always a higher level of awareness,” Ellen agreed. “It’s a blessing and a curse. Detectives not so much. But the men and women on patrol, they’re called peace officers for a reason, live with the threat every time they come to work. We always hope nothing happens.”

  “But if it does, we’re grateful for Mitch in the E.R.,” Sam said, looking at him.

  Leave it to her to find a silver lining at the same time she pulled him into the conversation and told her father he was wrong. Anyone looking at the expression on her face would believe he was a hero. But he knew better.

  He also knew she was pushing the food around her plate but not much was going into her mouth. When her father monopolized the conversation at the other end of the table he leaned over and asked her, “Are you okay?”

  “Of course,” she said. “Why?”

  “You’re not eating.”

  She looked down, then back at him. “Did you see the way my plate was piled? No way could I eat it all.”

  “It’s delicious. You’re a pretty good cook, Sunshine.”

  “Thanks.” She took a bite of mashed potatoes, then cut a piece of turkey and ate it.

  When second helpings were downed and everyone declared themselves completely stuffed, Sam asked, “Anyone for pie?”

  The groans were answer enough and she directed that plates be passed down to her. When that was accomplished, she stood to carry them into the kitchen.

  Mitch put his hand on her arm. “I’ll get that.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “You cooked. I’ll fetch and carry.” He stood and picked up the pile, then walked around her.

  She followed him and started to stack the empty plates in the dishwasher. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He folded his arms over his chest. “What I would like you to mention is what’s wrong. And don’t tell me nothing. This is me.”

  She looked up quickly. “I—I guess I’m just tired. Maybe a little stressed about this gathering.”

  “I understand that. But it’s going well. You’re sure there’s nothing else?”

  She looked away. “Don’t worry about me.”

  But that was just it. He did worry about her. About her health. About how the rest of her family treated her. Whether or not she was happy. The whole nine yards was fodder for his worry, he realized. That wasn’t supposed to happen to him. From worry it was a hop, skip and jump to caring. After that was commitment. The thought didn’t make him happy, because that was not something a short-term guy like himself could ever be thankful for.

  Mitch leaned back against Sam’s kitchen counter as he hand-dried a crystal wineglass. After everyone else went home he’d stayed behind to help clean up, and she was glad. Cooking holiday dinner had never taken so much energy before and she was tired to the bone. On top of that, she just liked having him around. It was going to come back and bite her big time, but of all the things she was thankful for this year, he was at the top of her list.

  Sam rinsed another glass and set it out on the dish towel beside the sink. “So tell me why you didn’t find it necessary to see your mother safely home.”

  “She’s a cop.” He held the glass up to the light, checking for spots, then set it with the others on the table before grabbing another one.

  “That doesn’t alter the fact she’s a woman.”

  “With a black belt in self-defense.”

  “What if she was attacked by a guy with a black belt?” She rested her wrists on the sink, letting her wet soapy hands drip. “It seems to me that in an altercation with opponents who have equal abilities the stronger person wins.”

  “This is hypothetical, right? Because my mom can take care of herself.”

  “How do you know?”

  “She’s packing.”

  “A gun?”

  He nodded. “Besides, you did all the work and I thought you could use a little help cleaning up.”

  “That’s very sweet.” Although what she’d really wanted to hear was that he’d stayed just to be with her. That was so sappy, but didn’t make it any less true.

  “Was this a typical Ryan family gathering?” he asked.

  “Usually it’s just the four of us. I think Dad was on his best behavior because your mother was here. He probably knew she was packing and figured if he wasn’t nice to you she’d shoot him.”

  “Maybe,” he said, chuckling.

  He had a nice laugh, Sam thought and laughter chased the tension lines and stress from his face, making him look younger, more carefree. She liked making him laugh.

  “What did you do last Thanksgiving?”

  Just like that the amusement disappeared. “I was working in the E.R.”

  “And?”

  He started on another glass, rubbing so hard the delicate crystal was in serious jeopardy.

  After drying her hands on a towel, she gently took it from him. “What’s wrong, Mitch?”

  “There wasn’t anything to be thankful for that year.”

  He slapped the towel into his palm, then met her gaze.

  “Because your brother died?”

  “A few months before,” he confirmed. “I knew his addiction was getting worse. When he was doing okay there was no communication. Then he’d get into trouble, either with the cops or he’d wind up in the E.R. That year he was calling all the time.” He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes dark and unfocused, brooding. “I tried to get him to go into rehab and he said he would. He always thanked me for taking care of him. But I didn’t.”

  “You couldn’t,” she amended. “You didn’t abandon him, but he was the only one who could help himself.” That was something Mitch had to come to terms with. But since she’d opened this can of worms, maybe it would help to dump it all out. “You said that was part of why there was nothing to be thankful for that year. I can’t imagine what else—”

  “It was a bad time,” he said, folding his arms over his chest. “Another time in a whole lot of very bad times.”

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  “My wife and I separated the Friday after Thanksgiving.”

  “After your brother died?” When he nodded, she asked, “What happened?”

  “It would be easier to say what didn’t happen. I was so wrapped up in taking care of Robbie that I didn’t even do routine maintenance on my marriage.”

  “I don’t understand. You weren’t being pulled in a different direction at that point. Wasn’t there time to reconnect and work on the relationship?”

  He shook his head. “It was over.”

  “But why?”

  “She did something that I just couldn’t forgive.” He met her gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. That I’m not taking responsibility for my part in the mess. I freely admit I wasn’t there for her. She felt neglected and abandoned. My work came first, then Robbie. I have no doubt that she got tired of coming in a distant third. I’m willing to admit that almost certainly that’s what drove her to it.”

  The woman had cheated on him. She wasn’t getting the attention she needed and turned to someone else to meet her needs. It happened all the time. But Sam couldn’t understand. Instead of trying to help the man she’d taken a vow to love, she’d made an already overworked, emotionally spent, overburd
ened man responsible for her happiness. That level of selfish, self-centered insensitivity was unbelievable to her.

  “It’s not your fault, Mitch.”

  His look was wry. “Aren’t you the one who always says it takes two to make or break a conflict?”

  “Yes. But I wouldn’t expect you to follow the three-step plan for conflict resolution when you’re seeing a patient whose heart has stopped. When the trauma eases you reprioritize. Your brother was in crisis and you tried to help. That doesn’t mean you weren’t willing to make changes.”

  “I appreciate you taking my side, but it’s not necessary. It’s over. No longer an issue.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. The tug of war in his relationship had left him unable, or unwilling to commit again. He’d become a loner who believed it was every man for himself.

  She put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry I made you think of bad stuff.”

  “It’s okay.” He looked down at her. “How about we have some pumpkin pie now?”

  Sam’s stomach instantly rebelled at the mere mention of food. “Oh, please. I’m too stuffed.”

  One of Mitch’s dark eyebrows rose. “How? You hardly ate a thing.”

  “What are you? The food police?”

  He held up his hands. “Okay. No pie for you.”

  She blew out a breath. “I didn’t mean to snap. I guess it’s post-Ryan family meltdown. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m glad you feel like you can let your guard down with me.”

  Not so much.

  Sam knew her extreme fatigue, aversion to food and a period still missing in action were all symptoms of what happens when you have unprotected sex even just one time. It all added up to the very real probability that she was pregnant. She hadn’t done the over-the-counter test yet, but she planned to at the same time she hoped and prayed she was wrong.

  She should warn Mitch. Tell him of her suspicions. She might have if he hadn’t just shared why the last thing he wanted was more responsibility. Next week she had a doctor’s appointment.

  If and when she found out she was pregnant, she would tell him. He had a right to know if she was carrying his child. Right now all she had were symptoms and a strong hunch. Without confirmation, she wouldn’t say anything and spoil yet another Thanksgiving for him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sam was proof that you could get pregnant having sex just once without protection. Dr. Rebecca Hamilton had just confirmed what the pregnancy test and her symptoms had been telling her. It was validation that Mitch Tenney had made her want him so badly all she’d been able to think about was the pleasure she’d find in his arms. The memory was still so vivid and the feelings so strong she wondered if they’d ever fade. Probably not.

  She would always remember. And if she didn’t…She’d have the baby to remind her, which was something because there hadn’t been any promises. Mitch wasn’t a promise kind of guy.

  Sam wasn’t sure that finding out she’d be a single mom was a bombshell that should be dropped while her feet were in metal stirrups and her knees in the air. But that’s the way it went down.

  “All finished.” The doctor held out a hand and helped her to a sitting position on the exam table.

  “Thanks, Doctor—”

  “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other for the next few months. You might as well call me Rebecca.”

  Rebecca Hamilton was a beautiful brown-eyed blonde who looked too young to be doing what she was doing. Before making the appointment, Sam had done some research and checked out Dr. Hamilton, finding out only good things. Not only that, the office was on Horizon Ridge Parkway in the same building as her own. She’d figured if she were pregnant, she wouldn’t have far to go for her prenatal appointments.

  Rebecca slipped off her plastic gloves, then toed open the metal trash can and dropped them inside, letting the lid drop shut. “Everything looks good, Samantha—”

  “Call me Sam.”

  “Okay, Sam.” The doctor studied her and frowned. “From the look on your face I’m going out on a limb here and take a guess. This pregnancy wasn’t planned.”

  “Not even a little bit.”

  Rebecca slid her hands into the pockets of her white lab coat. On the breast pocket her name was embroidered in navy letters, along with her specialty—OB/GYN. It was the obstetrics part that had butterflies jumping in Sam’s stomach. Now she knew a little person was growing inside her. She definitely had not planned this.

  “Why don’t you get dressed and meet me in my office? We’ll talk,” the doctor said.

  “Okay.”

  The answer was automatic and Sam was about to say there wasn’t anything to discuss when the door closed. She scooted off the table and slipped on her clothes and low-heeled black shoes. After collecting her coat and purse, she left the room and walked down the hall lined with exam room doors. Rebecca’s office was close to the reception area and Sam walked inside, noting all the impressive-looking diplomas on the wall.

  The desk held a neat stack of patient charts along with a computer and the typical in/out box. Several metal file cabinets filled one wall.

  “Have a seat,” Rebecca said, walking in behind her. She sat in the high-backed office chair on the other side of the desk.

  Sam noted the two chairs in front and picked the one on the right. “Thanks.”

  “So, you’re going to have a baby.” Rebecca smiled.

  “I swear it was just once. Without protection,” she amended, her cheeks growing warm.

  Funny how talking about sex embarrassed her after the intensely personal physical exam she’d just been through. But she felt so incredibly stupid, totally scared.

  “I’m not judging you, Sam.”

  That made one of them. “I guess it comes under the heading ‘didn’t think it through.’”

  “Sometimes that happens. So you regroup and figure things out.” Rebecca folded her hands and rested them on the stack of papers in front of her.

  “Okay. Right. Figure things out,” she repeated like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

  “Does the father know?”

  Sam shook her head. “I wanted to wait until I knew for sure before saying anything to him.”

  “So he wouldn’t be disappointed?” Rebecca suggested.

  “That would only happen if he were happy about having a baby.”

  “Yeah. I was trying to be positive.”

  “I appreciate that.” Sam sighed as she dropped her arm and let her purse slide to the floor beside her. “But, no. He will definitely not be doing the dance of joy when I tell him about this baby.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “How do you feel about having a baby?” Rebecca asked gently.

  “That’s a good question. I think I’m still in shock. When it wears off you might want to duck.”

  “Do you want children?”

  Sam thought about that for a moment. “Probably. Yeah. Up until now, I haven’t given it a lot of consideration what with working on my career goals.”

  “There are options—”

  “No.” Sam shook her head. She knew what the doctor was getting at and it was something she wouldn’t even consider. She was still in shock, but the life growing inside her suddenly became incredibly real and the need to protect it of paramount importance. “I plan to have this baby.”

  “Adoption is also a choice.”

  Let someone else raise her child? She’d been adopted and look how well that turned out. She wasn’t completely ungrateful and appreciated that her stepfather hadn’t abandoned her. But Mitch had made her face the fact that Arnold Ryan had an agenda that didn’t include unselfish motivation. If her mother had lived, things might have been different. Tears burned in her eyes and if it was pregnancy hormones running rampant the months until her baby was born would be very emotional.

  But she couldn’t help being sad that her mother wasn’t here now to confide in about the fact that she was preg
nant and alone.

  Sam brushed a knuckle beneath her eye as she shook her head. “Let me rephrase and make this very clear. I’m going to have this baby and I will raise it. By myself.”

  “Okay. But can I give you a piece of advice?” Rebecca asked.

  “Of course. You’re a healthcare professional and it wouldn’t be especially bright not to listen to what you have to say.”

  “This comes under the personal heading.”

  Sam nodded. “I see.”

  “About your baby’s father—” Rebecca’s gaze slid to a framed photo on her desk. “Give him a chance to screw up before judging him.”

  From where she was sitting Sam could see that Rebecca was in the picture with a very good-looking man. Without commenting, she asked, “Who’s the guy?”

  “Gabriel Thorne. My fiancé.”

  “He’s cute.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me about that.” Rebecca actually blushed and sighed.

  “He’s also a lucky man,” Sam said.

  “Thanks for saying so. We’re really both lucky to have found each other. It wasn’t easy. We had a lot to work through.” There was a glimmer of radiance shining through the clouds in Rebecca’s expression. “Relationships aren’t easy. They’re messy and complicated. But so worth it when you take a chance.”

  “That’s doctor-speak for I should give him the benefit of the doubt because he might want this baby?”

  “I’m saying give him a chance. He just might surprise you.”

  It had never occurred to Sam not to tell Mitch that he was going to be a father. He’d been through so much and she didn’t want to pile on. Still, he had a right to know about his child. But that didn’t mean she was looking forward to the conversation. He’d flat-out told her that responsibility wasn’t his thing and nothing tied you down, both financially and emotionally, more than a baby.

  She studied Rebecca, who suddenly looked older and wiser than when they’d first met in the exam room. She was a woman and a doctor whose specialty was women. She’d probably seen this situation. Sam wasn’t the first patient to have an unplanned pregnancy with a man who wasn’t eager to commit. Maybe she wasn’t being fair to Mitch and assuming the worst. He’d said he wasn’t a long-term kind of guy.