"That's another problem," Sam said. "He's in the children's wing. He might need another transfusion. Man, I don't know whether I can take much more of this." He lowered himself into a chair, shoulders slumped, and drew in a long, ragged breath.
Jack crouched in front of Sam and looked at him. The past few months had taken its toll. Eyes shadowed by dark circles. Lines of worry around his mouth and between his brows. Even a dusting of gray hair appeared at his temples. He'd also lost weight. Jack noted it earlier in the week from the way his clothes hung on him. But Sam's problems weren't confined to the issues with Ricky and his failing health, coupled with an unwanted baby. The marriage was in serious trouble. Things hadn't been good between Sam and Susan for years, but the current problems added weight to an already bad situation.
"What can I do?" he asked.
Sam shook his head. "Hell, I don't know. Maybe go sit with Ricky. I have to get back to the labor room. Susan was pretty unstable going into this and now with little hope for Ricky." He paused and drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly, his shoulders seeming to slump further as he exhaled. "We're still planning on sending the baby's cord blood in for testing," he added, "but that's pretty much a dead end. So I guess Ricky goes back on the bone marrow list."
Jack looked at Grace with Adam, who'd just been fed and was sleeping comfortably in his mother's arms. How blessed could a man be? A healthy son, perfect in every way, and Grace, the kind of mother he could only have dreamed about for his son, and she was his wife now. But while he was blessed, Sam was going through hell.
Sam looked at him intently, and before he even asked, Jack shook his head, and said, "I won't do it again. I was willing to donate the first time, but Susan can't handle another child. She's having one right now she doesn't—"
"Just stop right there!" Sam cut Jack off short. "Susan said some pretty disturbing things a few days ago, but she's gradually becoming resigned to things. She actually wants the baby."
"Did she say that?" Jack asked, dubious. For years, Sam had been defending Susan's actions and rationalizing her behavior. Suddenly becoming maternal for the child of a stranger was not likely at this late date.
"Well, she didn't say it in so many words," Sam admitted, "but she's talking about how to introduce him to Ricky, since Ricky's been the complete focus of our attention for three years. She's adjusting to it. Hell, look what I'm going through, and I'm not having the baby. Sure she's unsettled right now, but things will change when we're back home."
Jack glanced over and saw Grace glaring at him.
Talk to Sam. Tell him we'll take the baby.
Grace might as well be yelling the words it was so clear from the look on her face.
Still, Jack couldn't bring himself to ask Sam if they could adopt the baby. All he wanted was to take Adam and Grace home and start building a life with them. Just them. He wanted to put all his energy into his son, and make sure Grace didn't get overwhelmed with things when she got home. She'd need time to adjust to being a mother, and to being a wife again. But in the meantime, Susan was giving birth to a child she didn't want, and she and Sam could lose the only child they had, and if Ricky didn't get a bone marrow transplant his only hope was another savior sibling. And that was something he wouldn't do. Not again.
He stood, gave Sam a pat on the shoulder, and motioned for him to join him in the hallway. Once outside the room, he said to Sam, "When you get home, help her with the baby and get Mom to help too, at least with watching Ricky so Susan isn't overwhelmed. But she'll adjust. Look how she adjusted to all the problems with Ricky. She'll come around with this baby too. If she starts to show signs of depression—" Jack stopped. He still couldn't bring himself to say, Grace and I will take the baby. "—you can look into having a doctor put her on an antipsychotic medication. Postpartum depression's a chemical imbalance," he said, parroting what Lauren told him. But he didn't believe postpartum depression would be the issue with Susan. Wanting nothing to interfere with her life was more likely. "Let's just wait and see what happens when the baby's born. He'll be a healthy, happy baby."
"He's also the son of a dead man," Sam said. "Susan can't seem to put that aside. This lab mix-up really screwed her up. And I need to get back to the labor room now."
"I'll sit with Ricky," Jack said. "Hang in there, bro. Things will turn out."
But as he watched his twin walking away, head down, shoulders slumped, Jack saw a defeated man.
***
Two hours later, Sam, looking even more strung out than before, came to Grace's room and announced to Jack and Grace in a sober voice, "He was born a few minutes ago, weighing in at eight pounds, four ounces, twenty one inches long, and bald. But he's healthy and alert, and has blue-gray eyes. The doctor prepared the cord blood for the lab."
"That's great news," Jack said. "And Susan?"
"Not so good," Sam replied. "When they gave her the baby to nurse she told the nurse to put him on formula, that she was too tired to nurse him." Sam slouched into the chair. "She didn't even hold him... just said she would later, that she wanted to see Ricky. So the nurse took the baby to the nursery and they wheeled Susan to Ricky's room. She's still there."
Grace said to Sam, "What did you name him?"
"That's another problem," Sam said. "We didn't come up with anything, and Susan just told me to name him whatever I wanted."
"Then how about Marcus Allen Hansen?" Grace suggested. "He was supposed to be Jack's child, and he ended up being Marc's, so Allen would give him Jack's middle name." She looked at Jack, who she knew wasn't fooled by her ploy of giving the baby his middle name in preparation for the baby becoming his legal son. But when Jack drew in a long breath and said nothing, she knew he wasn't going to challenge her.
Sam shrugged. "That's fine. I'll tell the nurse. She was wanting to put something other than Baby Boy Hansen on the birth certificate."
"What about circumcision?" Grace asked.
Sam shrugged. "We hadn't thought about that."
"Then don't. There's plenty of time," Grace told him. "And don't put him on formula. I have way too much milk and he needs first milk. I'll nurse him along with Adam. I want to do this for my husband's baby." She caught the dark look on Jack's face and realized what she'd said. Marc was no longer her husband. Jack was, and it was clear that Jack felt as if he'd been shoved aside.
"I didn't mean that the way it sounded," she said to Jack. "You're my husband now, but Marc was my husband and I still have to think of him that way because he was never my ex-husband. It's kind of complicated, but he doesn't replace you now." That still didn't come out the way she intended, other than it was complicated.
"It doesn't matter," Jack said, in a morose tone, which made Grace realize it did matter.
It mattered because... maybe Jack was beginning to love her...
Sam squeezed Grace's shoulder. "Thank you," he said. "When Susan's feeling better I know she'll want to take over, but for now the baby needs to be held. I'll have the nurse bring him in."
"And his crib," Grace added. "He needs to be with us."
A few minutes later, a nurse rolled in the crib and handed the baby to Grace, who opened her gown. When she pinched her nipple and put it in the baby's mouth, he clamped down and started sucking. Grace looked at his face, features so unlike Adam's, but not really Marc's features either. And his eyes, though not a true color yet, would not be brown. But they didn't appear to be clear blue like Marc's. Maybe gray, or a combination of muted colors… like Susan's, Grace realized with a little twist in her stomach, and shoved that thought away. And his hair... Typical Templeton baby. Bald. But when he did get hair, she hoped it would be closer to Jack's.
Jack stood looking at her for the longest time before dragging a chair close to the bed, and saying, while watching Marc suckle, "Just don't get too attached to him. If Susan wants him back, there's nothing you can do."
Grace said nothing, but after a while, as she watched the babies nursing, she said in a reflecti
ve voice, "All I ever wanted when I was growing up was to be a wife and mother and have six children. Having Marc would give me two, so I'd only have to go through this four more times." She looked at Jack and added, "Unless you can give me twins. But next time you will not get me pregnant by depositing sperm in a cup." Subtlety had never been her strong suit.
But from the look on Jack's face, it was obvious he had misgivings about that too, and she knew exactly why. So when the time would finally come that they'd consummate their marriage, she'd make it absolutely clear to Jack that he was not lacking in any way. But looking at him now, so handsome, so virile, and imagining that big husky body wrapped around her in the most intimate way, brought her to a level of sexual anticipation that pretty much guaranteed complete and total satisfaction.
***
The following morning, after the doctor checked Grace and signed her release from the hospital, and the pediatrician checked both babies, Grace and Jack stopped in to see how Ricky was doing before leaving the hospital. Sam had stopped by the day before to thank Grace for taking care of Marc, and to ask if she and Jack could look after him for another couple of days until Ricky would be released from the hospital. He'd had another transfusion and was being held for observation. They were also waiting for word from the laboratory, but held little hope that little Marc's cord blood would be a match.
When Grace and Jack entered Ricky's room, and Grace saw the toddler lying in a child-size bed with railings, he looked small, and very ill. His eyes were closed, and there were dark circles under them, and his face and lips looked deathly pale. Sam sat on one side of the bed, forearms resting on his knees, fingers laced together, and Susan sat on the other side, her arm stretched between the rails, her hand rubbing Ricky's chest.
Grace, with Marc in her arms, walked over to Susan, and said, "How is he doing?"
Susan shrugged. "He'll be better after the transfusion kicks in. I'm anxious to get him home where everything's familiar, his own doctors, his own room, my folks."
For the first time, Grace saw Susan as a caring mother sitting by her critically ill son's bedside, stroking his chest, worry on her face. But she was devoted to only one son. It was still inconceivable that she felt nothing for the baby she'd carried for nine months, and which Grace held in her arms, just inches from his mother.
As if sensing Grace's misgiving, Susan turned and looked at Marc, then reached out and touched his cheek, a little brush of her finger, and said, "It's good you have enough milk for him. I was so upset about Ricky, my milk never came in. He'll have to go on formula when we get home, which is good, because Sam can feed him then."
And Susan wouldn't have to, Grace interpreted the underlying message.
Odd that Sam and Jack had married women who were alike in so many ways. Both self-possessed, both beautiful, neither feeling a bond with their infants. She could also imagine Susan smothering Marc in a blind rage if he were colicky and crying and Susan was exasperated because he wouldn't stop. Still, she had to bite her lip to keep from asking Susan why she couldn't be the one to give Marc his formula, just to hear what Susan would say.
Jack, who until now had been standing behind Grace while holding Adam in his arms, said to Susan, "I called Mom this morning and she said she'd reschedule her trip to visit her cousin and will be at the ranch to help with the baby and Ricky for a couple of months."
Grace glared at Jack. She was perfectly capable of looking after both babies, but Jack wanted to make sure she only looked after the one he was holding. "That's not necessary," she told him. "We can move the nursery furniture Susan and Sam have into Adam's room. It's a big bedroom, and since the babies are on the same schedule, it won't be any problem."
"There's no need," Jack said. "Mom plans to be there."
"She didn't need to cancel her trip," Grace insisted.
The muscles in Jack's jaws bunched. "Yeah, but she did, and that's that."
No. That was not that, Grace decided. Turning to Sam, she said, "When do you expect to hear from the lab?"
"Any time now," Sam replied in a glum voice. "I imagine they'll call." To let them know the baby wasn't a match, were the words Sam didn't say, but everyone was thinking.
Grace looked at Adam, nestled in the crook of Jack's arm, and at Marc, who was cuddled in hers while looking up at her, and wondered what she'd do if she learned that one of these precious babies had to be placed on a waiting list in hopes of finding a cure for a blood disorder. A sobering thought that brought a little more understanding of what Sam and Susan were going through. Not an excuse for Susan not wanting her second son, but just a little more clarity.
Wanting to feel Jack's solid strength—a kind of assurance that nothing would ever happen to either of the babies—she moved to stand beside him and looked up at him. Jack held her gaze for a moment, then adjusted his big palm around Adam, curved his other arm around her and Marc, and pulled them against him. And Grace sensed he was finally beginning to accept the fact that Marc might be joining their family. But she didn't want Marc to be just hers. She wanted him to be every bit as much Jack's as Adam was, but that could only come from Jack.
A few minutes later the man from the lab showed up in the doorway, the same man who'd delivered the news about Adam, although his face was not that of someone bringing bad news. It wasn't exactly good either. They waited for him to speak.
He gave them a kind of half smile. "We don't have a complete HLA match," he said, "but we think we can still restore bone marrow function in your son by using a new process that's been tried with success, and that's with the use of expanded cord blood cells. There's a 64-fold increase in the number of hematopoietic cells when cord blood is expanded, so donated cells don't have to be perfectly matched to the patient."
"Wait a minute," Sam said. "You're telling us there's a chance."
The man nodded. "A typical unit of cord blood contains less than 200,000 stem cells per kilogram of body weight of the recipient, in contrast to six million cells when expanded. Using expanded cells also decreases the risk of death in the recipient because they give rise to white blood cells and other components of the blood more quickly."
"Then we'll do it," Sam said. "What do we have to sign?"
"That's another issue." They all waited. "The cost," the man said. "Because it's considered experimental, it's not covered by insurance, and the out-of-pocket cost is usually more than most families can afford."
"My brother and I will cover the cost," Jack said. "Where do we sign?"
The man placed the folder he'd been holding on the bedside stand and opened it. Removing a bundle of papers, he said, "Read the documents so you understand the risks involved, and there's a financial statement. I'll run credit checks on both of you and add your name to the financial statement," he said to Jack. "As soon as you drop the signed documents off at the lab our technicians will start preparing the blood and you can start your son on chemotherapy to get him ready for transplant," he said to Sam.
"How long until we know if it works?" Sam asked.
The man smiled. "That's the good part. On average it takes two weeks for expanded cells to begin to engraft as compared to four weeks for non-expanded units, which means less chance for infection. The survival rate's similar to bone marrow transplants."
"So, two weeks after our son's finished chemo, he could start to build new bone marrow?" Sam asked.
The man nodded. "Cord blood cells haven't specialized so they're able to become whatever cells the body needs—red cells to carry oxygen, white cells to fight disease, platelets to help blood clot. Expanded cells just give more to get the job done quicker."
"Why didn't you suggest this with the other baby?" Sam asked, glancing at Adam.
"We found no HLA match at all. Not a trace," the man said to Sam. "The fact that we found them with your son is a miracle. Somehow the father of that baby had the markers that matched. A one-in-a-million occurrence."
Grace looked at the baby in her arms. Marc's baby. His lega
cy. A legacy not only to Ricky, who now had a chance to lead a normal life, but to her, a little bit of Marc for her to love and care for and hopefully raise as her own.
"May I hold my baby?" Susan asked.
Grace looked at Susan who had, until now, wanted nothing to do with her newborn infant, and saw a look of possessiveness on her face. And all Grace could do was pass Marc's baby into Susan's outstretched arms.
***
Hours after they'd delivered the signed papers to the laboratory and settled into the Hilton, with both babies sleeping in hotel cribs after being nursed, Grace found herself tearing up at odd moments. She'd tried to keep it from Jack, but this time she couldn't.
"You just don't understand," she said. "Susan only wants Marc because he's of use to Ricky, but he should have been my baby from the start."
"Just like Adam should have been hers," Jack reminded her.
Which made Grace mad. "That's entirely different," she snapped. "I love Adam. He's mine too. Susan never wanted him either. He was only a means to an end, just like Marc is now." She plucked a tissue from the box beside the bed and dabbed her eyes. "You've got to talk to Sam. At least tell him we want to adopt Marc. Once they get home and Susan's focused on Ricky and Marc starts crying and demanding her time, she could hurt him. She could kill him!" Tears started flowing again.
"Honey, stop." Jack pulled Grace into his arms and held her. "There's nothing we can do right now. We'll just have to wait and see what happens."
"You said we," Grace said into Jack's broad chest. She raised her head and looked at him through a blur of tears. "Are you with me in this now?"
Jack looked at her long and hard, then crooked a finger beneath her chin, and said, "If you think you can handle both babies, yes, I'm willing to raise Marc along with Adam."
"But can you love him too?" Grace asked, her voice wavering. "Maybe not love him as much as you love Adam, since he's not your son. Well, he's actually the son of a man I once loved. But at least love him like you would an adopted son."
"Honey, if we take Marc he'll be every bit as much my son as Adam. The little guy's already getting to me." Jack looked into the crib at Marc, who was staring at Jack, as if he understood what Jack had said, which made Grace and Jack laugh in ironic acknowledgement. Then Jack carefully lifted Marc out of his crib, supporting his wobbly head with his hand, and held him against his chest, and said, while looking down at him, "Yeah, I can love him too."
Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 17