The Brooding Surgeon's Baby Bombshell

by Susan Carlisle

  His child. Somehow that sounded weird and right at the same time.

  Regardless of the time, he needed to talk to Zoe, even if just to make plans for the weekend.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello.” The word was said quietly as if he had woken her.

  He remembered her voice sounding like that the night they had spent together. “It’s Gabe.”

  “I know.”

  Was that because of caller ID or because she recognized his voice? He hoped the latter. Now that he was actually speaking to her, he was a little unsure. “I’m sorry I’m late calling. I didn’t think you’d be asleep yet. There was an emergency and time got away from me. How’re you doing?” he finally asked.

  “Fair, all things considered.”

  “Has something happened to the baby?” Gabe’s middle clinched at the thought. He was surprised at how quickly his mind had gone that direction.

  “No. The baby is fine. The doctor said today it measures just right. Heartbeat is strong.”

  An odd feeling washed over him. He was relieved to hear it. “Was everything all right with your mom after last night?”

  “Yeah, she was just confused. She gets more anxious and demanding these days. She’s asleep now.”

  “That must be stressful.” He couldn’t imagine what he’d do with his job demands if his mother required his attention like Zoe’s did.

  “I don’t wish this disease on anyone.”

  Gabe had heard Alzheimer’s was difficult to deal with, but this was the first time he’d known someone facing it daily. “Do you have any help?”

  “Not really. My sister lives about four hours away and travels for work, so she can’t come often.” There was a pause, and then she asked, “Do you happen to know how the boy from Chicago is doing? His mother was beside herself.”

  “She was, but she was much better after she knew Bobby was going to be all right and they had a place to stay for the night. I spoke to her the other day and Bobby is doing just great.”

  “You called her?”

  Gabe grinned. “Don’t sound so surprised. I did. I like to keep track of my patients. She said if it weren’t for the stitches in his head she wouldn’t even know anything had happened.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it. You were good with him. Both as a doctor and a person.”

  “Thanks. I like to see that my patients get complete care. You weren’t half-bad yourself. Using the diaper to stop the blood flow was quick thinking.”

  “It’s my turn to say thanks.”

  The self-assured Zoe had returned. Smiling to himself, he got down to business. “I wanted to let you know I’ll be in town this weekend, looking for a place to live. I’d like to see you. Discuss things without being interrupted.”

  “Look, Gabe, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, really I do. But you don’t need to feel obligated. I’m fine. I can take care of the baby.”

  His blood ran hot. Why did she keep pushing him away when he was offering to help? Did she expect he’d be satisfied with a phone call here and there and a few school pictures? It was time to make himself clear. “Zoe, I have every intention of being an active parent in my child’s life. You’re not going to push me out of it. I’ll gladly handle my share of the expenses. I not only want to be involved, I will be involved. Let’s try to keep this between us and not drag others into the situation.”

  Silence lay heavy between them.

  She must have gotten his less-than-subtle hint about hiring a lawyer. He didn’t want to go there but he would if he had to. Growing up without a father hadn’t been fun. At baseball games there hadn’t been a man in the stands cheering him on or coaching on the sidelines. When he’d liked his first girl and she had wanted nothing to do with him, there had been no man to listen and offer advice based on experience. His mother had tried but it just hadn’t been the same. Those memories only made him all the more determined to be a present father to his child. It was his child, his responsibility.

  After his and Zoe’s night together, he’d like to believe they had parted friends, albeit uncomfortable ones, but civil nonetheless. He wanted to build on that. He had no interest in angering Zoe, so he volunteered in a conciliatory tone, “I’ll be looking at houses most of the day on Saturday, so how about having dinner with me that evening?”

  “I can’t. I don’t have anyone to watch Mother.”

  “Then I’ll pick up something and bring it to your place. I’d really like for us to talk about this.” He wasn’t letting Zoe run from him forever. He saw another call was coming in. He’d have to get it. “The floor is paging me. I’ll be in touch on Saturday.”

  * * *

  By Wednesday, Zoe had red-rimmed eyes, a runny nose and was sneezing.

  “Of all the times to get a head cold,” she murmured as she headed down the hall of one of the local hospitals to see a patient. She already had her hands full with life and her job, and to feel awful was almost more than she could take. Since Gabe’s call, she was still trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings.

  The reality of him moving to the area, of seeing him on a regular basis was slowly seeping in. Against her better judgment she looked forward to seeing him again. That was a road she needed to close but how could she when their lives were becoming more intertwined, both personally and professionally? Her life was changing so fast she was racing to catch up. What more could happen?

  She sanitized her hands using the liquid in the container by the patient’s door and pulled out a mask from the box on the shelf nearby. Mr. Luther was her most difficult patient but one her heart went out to. Why, she didn’t know. He didn’t make it easy. It could be Mr. Luther was the father figure she was missing in her life or that he just didn’t have anyone else. He reminded her of a bad-tempered grandfather who hid his huge soft spot well. For some reason she was the one person he would listen to. Maybe he sensed she liked him despite his rough outer shell. Regardless, she was determined to do whatever she could to help him.

  Knocking on the hospital door, she waited until she heard the gruff “Yeah.”

  She took a deep breath to fortify herself for what was coming. Pushing the door open, Zoe entered the dark room where the TV was blaring. The sixty-four-year-old man who sat in a chair beside the bed didn’t even look her way as she entered.

  He’d been in and out of the hospital for months with advancing inflammation of the liver caused by hepatitis C. Because of it he had a yellow tint to his skin and eyes and ongoing nausea and fatigue. It didn’t look like he would have any improvement without a transplant. She hoped that Gabe might help her there. When the time was right she’d ask him. With any luck, Mr. Luther would be transferred to Gabe’s care at National Hospital and listed for a transplant.

  “Hello, Mr. Luther. How’re you doing this morning?”

  “You know as well as I do how I’m doing.”

  She might but she wouldn’t let him get away with ignoring her. “Do you mind if we turn the TV down?”

  “I do but I guess you’ll do it anyway.”

  Zoe grinned as she found the remote and lowered the volume. She’d learned long ago that his bark was worse than his bite. “I need to give you a listen and have you sign a couple of forms so I have permission to look at your chart.”

  “The others here have already listened to me today.”

  “You know how this works by now. I have to do my own listening and looking at lab results if I’m going to help you get better. I’m your advocate. I don’t work for the hospital. I work for you. I’m here to help you.”

  “Aw, go ahead. You will anyway.”

  Zoe stepped to him. Pulling her stethoscope out of her pocket and placing the ends in her ears, she proceeded to listen to his heart. It sounded steady and strong, which pleased her. She then listened to his lungs and checked his pulse rate. Removing her small p
enlight from her lab coat pocket, she said, “I need to look in your eyes.”

  “I was afraid of that.” Mr. Luther lifted his face to her.

  She pointed the light in his eyes. What she found there she wasn’t as happy with. The whites still weren’t clear.

  “Well? Will I be getting out of here soon?”

  “That’s not for me to say. Your doctor here makes those decisions. But I will be in touch. If I don’t see you here next week, I’ll be calling you at home to check on you.” She didn’t have to keep such close tabs on him, but as far as she knew, there was no one else to do it. Zoe placed her hand on his shoulder. “Please do what they say, Mr. Luther.”

  He grunted. “Always do.”

  She looked back at him as she went out the door. He was going to need a liver transplant much sooner than the doctors had originally estimated.

  As she traveled to different hospitals to check on other patients and completed paperwork in her office over the next few days, she continued to search for reasons not to see Gabe while he was in town. The longer she could put him off, the better. Dealing with him was the last thing she needed at this point in her emotionally and physically overloaded life.

  Preparing for her baby’s birth, dealing with her mother’s rapidly deteriorating condition and now the urgent need to get Mr. Luther on the fast track for a liver transplant... If only Gabe would stop pressuring her to make decisions about her baby’s future, decisions that could wait until closer to the due date. If Gabe sincerely wanted to help her, maybe she could convince him to give her those precious three months before her baby was born to deal with her other problems by priority. Would he understand her genuine need for time and distance? Or would he be self-centered, accusing her of trying to push him out of the baby’s life?

  * * *

  On Saturday afternoon, her mother had gone to her room for a nap and Zoe was trying to get some much-needed rest on the sofa. The cold was taking its toll on her. She’d just closed her eyes when the phone rang. Anticipation zinged through her. Would it be Gabe?

  “Hey,” he said when she answered, not giving his name. It wasn’t necessary. Zoe would have known his voice anywhere. “Have you changed your mind about going out to dinner?”

  “No.” Even to her own ears she didn’t sound welcoming, yet blood whipped through her veins at the mere fact she was speaking to Gabe.

  “You sound awful. What’s wrong?”

  “I woke with a cold the other morning.”

  “Are you taking care of it? Getting enough rest?” His concern somehow made her feel better. She liked knowing Gabe cared about her, even if it was just because of the baby.

  “Yes. I’m just tired.”

  “Then I’ll pick up dinner. Bring it to you. What’s your address?”

  She gave it to him.

  “I’ll see you in about an hour and a half. ’Bye.”

  Knowing she was about to see Gabe again caused her stomach to flutter. Despite feeling bad, she still rushed around, putting her apartment in order in anticipation of his visit. Her life was already a tightrope and Gabe was tying complicated knots in it as well. With one more tiny twist she might snap.

  Zoe finally settled on the sofa to wait for him. She hadn’t missed his poorly veiled threat about getting a lawyer involved if she didn’t talk to him. The nervous waves in her stomach crashed harder, despite him brushing off his threat with a dinner offer. He’d made it plain he didn’t want a wife and children the night they had been together. His declaration of lifelong bachelorhood over five months ago contradicted his current insistence on being involved with their child. How long would his sense of obligation last? Until “his” child started making demands on his time? Would he still be sharing parental duties when they started to interfere with his career? Maybe he didn’t mind being a father as much as he hated the thought of being a husband. If that was the case, she was left with the conclusion he would never marry her.

  That hurt. It shouldn’t, but it did.

  She had no doubt Gabe wouldn’t consider marriage as a practical solution to their situation. In the unlikely event he did, she would say no. Being wanted because she was the mother of his child wasn’t good enough. When she married it would be for love. Her hand went to her middle. Right now, her focus would be on the baby. She wasn’t going to let Gabe continue making immediate demands that would needlessly confuse her life further.

  The door buzzer woke Zoe. Panic filled her. She’d had every intention of having time to apply some makeup and fix her hair before Gabe arrived. She stopped in front of a mirror on the way to the door and pushed at her hair, creating some order, before she checked the peephole, getting a distorted view of Gabe. Even then he looked amazing. Why couldn’t he be everything she didn’t want in a man?

  Zoe unlocked and opened the door. Gabe had two large white bags in his hands and one small brown one. She’d never seen him casually dressed. The white-collared shirt he wore rolled up his forearms set off his dark hair and California tan. Jeans hugged his slim hips and loafers covered his feet. He could be a model for a men’s cologne ad. He took her breath away.

  For seconds, they just looked at each other. He broke the silence. “May I come in?”

  “Yes.” Zoe pushed the door wider.

  Gabe entered, looked around, then headed toward the kitchen table, where he set the bags down. “You sit down and rest. I’ll get things on the table. Just tell me where they are.”

  Zoe closed the door and followed more slowly. Her apartment went from small to tiny with Gabe in it. She needed to get a grip on her attraction to him or she would lose control of the situation.

  Her mother joined them, looking from Gabe and back to her, perplexed.

  Zoe put a reassuring hand on her mother’s arm. “Mom, I want you to meet a friend of mine, Gabe Marks.”

  “Friend” might be stretching their actual relationship, but she didn’t want to explain more.

  Gabe came around the table with a smile on his face. “Mrs. Avery, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Her mother smiled. “Hello.”

  “I brought you some dinner. I hope you’re hungry.” He pulled a chair out from under the table and held it for her.

  “Thank you. I am.” Her smile broadened as she sat.

  Zoe sank into a chair.

  Gabe returned to the bags, continuing to remove cartons. “Zoe, I hate it, but I forgot drinks.”

  How like him to take control and look comfortable doing it. “I have iced tea made.”

  “Sounds great.” He looked at her mother and smiled. “That work for you too, Mrs. Avery?”

  Her mother grinned, an endearing expression Zoe hadn’t seen in some time, and nodded to Gabe. The devil was charming her mother out of her fog.

  Zoe stood.

  “I said I’d get things.” He waved her down and headed into the kitchen. “Just tell me where they are. Plates? Silverware?”

  “I don’t feel that bad.” Zoe joined him. Gabe took her by the arm and gently led her back to her chair.

  Her body trembled at his touch. She sat, forcing him to release her. If he had noticed her hypersensitive reaction to him, he didn’t show it, much to her relief. She had to somehow smother her physical desire for him. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life fighting it and hiding it from him.

  “You may not feel very bad at the moment, but you don’t need to exert yourself any more than absolutely necessary. You don’t want to get worse.” His tone said he’d accept no argument.

  Zoe huffed then gave him directions to which cabinet and drawer he needed. He soon had the table set and was heading into the kitchen again.

  “Glasses?”

  “Cabinet next to the refrigerator.”

  After the chinking of ice dropping into glasses, Gabe brought two drinks to the table and returned to get the o
ther. He took the seat at the head of the table. For some reason that held significance. As if he was taking on more importance in her life than she wanted.

  “Who are you?” her mother asked. In a different situation Zoe might have thought it was funny. Her mother might be as overwhelmed by Gabe as Zoe was, but in this instance she was afraid her mother just didn’t remember.

  Gabe answered before Zoe had a chance to. “I’m Gabe.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right.”

  He didn’t miss a beat and started opening containers. “Would you like a piece of fried chicken, Mrs. Avery?”

  “Yes, that would be nice.”

  Gabe picked up her plate and placed a piece on it. “How about potatoes, green beans and a roll?”

  “Please.”

  Gabe finished serving her plate and put it in front of her. “Mrs. Avery, did Zoe tell you that I’m moving to the area?”

  She looked at Zoe. “No, she didn’t. You’ll like it here. Henry and I moved here when we were newlyweds.”

  “So you’ve lived around here for a long time,” Gabe said as he scooped food onto another plate.

  Zoe watched her mother become dreamy-eyed as memories surfaced. “We had the best time together.”

  That was until Zoe’s father had left and never returned. In her mother’s illness she only remembered the good times, but Zoe clearly recalled the hurt and devastation her father had left behind. She never wanted to live through that again.

  “I’m sure you did.” Gabe smiled at her then opened the brown bag. He looked at Zoe. “I forgot. I made a special stop for you.” He pulled out a plastic container of liquid. “Chicken soup. Let me get you a bowl and spoon.” Before she could say anything, he was on his way back to the kitchen. When he returned, he poured the soup in the bowl and placed it and the spoon in front of her.

  He’d made a stop just for her? When had someone last made her feel so special? The soup smelled heavenly. She met Gabe’s expectant expression. “Thanks. This hits the spot.”