Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe

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Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe Page 11

by Jacqueline Diamond


  “Kids get sick and caretakers can be unreliable,” Heather said. “If it helps, we can transfer you to a position where it won’t matter so much if you’re late. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure there’s no decrease in salary.”

  Cynthia’s eyes misted. “Please don’t do that! I love working with you.”

  “I feel the same way,” Heather admitted. “It’s the new clinic I’m worried about. Dr. Carmichael has exacting standards. I’m not sure you’ve fully come to terms with what it’s going to mean, being the parent of twins.”

  “I’ll discuss it with Mrs. Ladd.” Cynthia was in counseling with Amy. “Please don’t make any changes until I talk to her.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t. My main concern is for you,” Heather said. And I wish I could give that jerk of an ex-boyfriend a piece of my mind.

  At times like this, she was tempted to think ill of the entire masculine gender, until she pictured her son-in-law in uniform, his face suffused with joy as he escorted Olive up the aisle. What a terrific man!

  She recalled her mental image of Jason as a groom. Would he ever be ready to devote himself to a woman and a home? Not likely, when he couldn’t even bear the thought of planting flowers!

  Cynthia tapped her watch. “I can’t take up any more of your time.”

  “Yes, you can. But not necessarily right now,” Heather agreed.

  A full complement of patients kept her so busy she didn’t come up for air until midday. Coral, who always seemed to appear around noon, stopped by to ask if she could spare a few minutes to talk to Dr. Carmichael.

  “He wants to do some planning.” The secretary wore her usual anxious expression. “That’s all he told me.”

  “Sure, I can come.” She might as well be accommodating, Heather decided. Keeping the department head in a good mood was in everyone’s best interest.

  Maybe if he saw plenty of her at the office, he’d be less inclined to haunt her health club and wake her up with phone calls. She wouldn’t bet on it, though.

  Relief showed on Coral’s face. “That would be great.”

  They crossed the courtyard beneath a lowering sky. When Heather entered Jason’s office, he clicked off his computer. “Thanks for coming.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “I heard you’re doing some kind of planning.”

  Before replying, he studied her as if she had data digitally encoded in her freckles. Meeting his gaze frankly, Heather took a chair.

  There was something different about him today, she thought. There was a gentler light in his green eyes, an easier line to his jaw. He must be pleased with the way the clinic was taking shape.

  “I’m planning a retreat for the new doctors.” Jason came around and sat on the front of his desk. “It’ll be an opportunity for all of us to get to know each other away from the office, to share ideas and make sure we’re on the same wavelength.”

  “A retreat?” Although she hadn’t expected this, Heather didn’t object. She was a bit intimidated about working with such prominent individuals as Alexei Davidoff and Lisa Arcadian. Getting together outside work should help meld them into a more effective team.

  “I’ve arranged to borrow Dr. Barr’s cabin in the mountains. It will give us privacy, and we can throw in some skiing, too,” Jason said.

  Although he wasn’t touching her, she felt the heat of his skin and became acutely aware of the rise and fall of his chest. Thank goodness when he said privacy, he meant for the whole group, not just the two of them.

  “I don’t ski. But the others might enjoy it,” she said. “When did you have in mind?”

  “Next weekend,” Jason said.

  Heather nearly groaned aloud. Ginger would still be staying with her. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’ll still be taking care of my great-niece.” Before he could point out that that was Olive’s responsibility, she added, “Her mother’s already left on a trip and won’t be back till Monday.”

  “Bring the baby along.” Jason made it sound as if carting a baby to a conference, however informal, were the most natural thing in the world.

  “You’re kidding.” Heather wrinkled her nose. “Alexei and Lisa will think I’m a flake.”

  “We’re in the business of making babies,” Jason said. “I don’t see how it can hurt to have one around.”

  Neither of the other doctors was a parent, as far as Heather knew. They weren’t likely to enjoy cries in the night or messes in the morning. “Let’s pick another date.”

  “With everyone moving in, we’ll be overwhelmed getting ready to open in April,” he said. “It’s the only weekend that works for everybody.”

  About to point out tartly that it didn’t work for her, Heather remembered her resolution not to cross Jason unnecessarily. It wasn’t as if Olive, who checked in regularly on Heather’s cell phone, was likely to have any objections. Better to save her arguments for something important, like securing concessions for Cynthia. “You’re sure you don’t mind? Even a sweet child like Ginger can be demanding. You might find her presence irritating.”

  “What kind of man would…” He stopped in midsentence, a muscle jumping in his jaw.

  “Do your teeth hurt?” Heather asked.

  “Do my what?” He stared at her as if she’d just parachuted from a space ship.

  “You grimaced as if your teeth hurt. I know a good dentist if you need one.” She didn’t mean to insult him. “I’m sorry. Go ahead with what you were saying.”

  Unaccustomed confusion showed on Jason’s face. “I lost my train of thought.”

  “I was warning you that babies can interfere with other plans,” Heather said.

  “Oh, yes.” He grinned. “Has she ever seen snow?”

  “Ginger? No.”

  “You should buy her a snow suit so she can play in it,” Jason said.

  “She can’t even stand up yet,” Heather pointed out. “She’d flop facedown in a drift. Maybe I could hold her on my lap and let her poke at it a little.”

  “I’ll help you.” His eagerness startled her. “I mean, when you want to take a break, I can play with the baby. It’s only fair, since I’m the one dragging you away from your routine.”

  Jason had never, ever, struck Heather as the kind of guy who liked to play with babies. As she recalled, he’d barely glanced at Ginger during their encounter at the health club. “Is this some new wrinkle in employee relations?”

  “What? Oh, yes, in a way,” he said. “I know I can be abrupt sometimes.”

  “And you hope to improve your reputation by babysitting my great-niece?”

  “Consider it part of honing my people skills.”

  Heather overcame the temptation to point out that Jason’s people skills needed more honing than he could accomplish in a single weekend. Or possibly a single lifetime. “If you say so.”

  “I’d be happy to give you a ride,” he said. “In case you don’t like driving in the mountains.”

  “I’ll bring my own car, thank you.” Heather didn’t intend to get stuck up there with no means of escape. She wasn’t counting on Jason’s goodwill toward Ginger outlasting one meal with baby food lobbed onto the front of his suit, or whatever he planned to wear.

  Maybe a ski sweater. She could definitely picture him in tight-fitting jeans, or a snug T-shirt and shorts in the heat from the fireplace. She imagined his lazy smile welcoming her as she settled beside him.

  She also imagined it mutating into a scowl as Ginger reached from her lap to poke an exploratory finger into his ear.

  “Fine,” Jason said. “You can leave work early on Friday if you’d prefer to arrive before dark.” He handed her a computerized map with the address and directions.

  “I’ll be there.” As she got to her feet, another thought occurred to her. “Is Eric Wong coming, too?” Although the embryologist had a Ph.D. rather than an M.D., he was one of the most important players in the department.

  “I’m afraid he already
had plans.” Jason walked her to the door as if she were a guest. “I’m glad you can make it. I think this retreat will be beneficial for everyone.”

  “I’m sure it will.” She wished she felt as positive as she sounded, Heather reflected as she walked back to the Ob/Gyn Department.

  Alexei and Lisa weren’t going to be seeing her at her most professional. She wouldn’t get a chance to wear either of her new dresses, either, at such a casual retreat.

  Still, it might work out well. If they proved friendly, she supposed it might be as good a time as any to explain her true relationship to Ginger.

  When Olive had first contacted her, it had brought half-forgotten memories searing to the foreground, including the insults and snubs of her peers. Heather hadn’t been ready to let the gossips at Doctors Circle know about her painful past, or to deal with insensitive comments such as the one Jason had made about her nurse.

  During the past few months, however, she’d grown more comfortable with the situation and discovered that she’d developed enough inner strength to handle whatever came up. In addition, she looked forward to leveling with Cynthia about the fact that she herself had been in a similar situation.

  This weekend might prove to be a watershed in many ways, Heather supposed. At least, with Alexei and Lisa around, she didn’t have to worry about any too-close-for-comfort encounters with Jason.

  She was in the elevator en route to the second floor of her building when she remembered him saying that next weekend was the only one that worked for everyone. What about Eric Wong? It obviously didn’t work for him.

  When the doors opened, a receptionist signaled her urgently. “Dr. Rourke! They need you in Labor and Delivery, right away!” One of her patients was having an unexpectedly fast labor.

  “I’m on my way,” Heather said, and completely forgot whatever had been on her mind a moment earlier.

  JASON WISHED he’d figured out a more convincing story to explain Eric’s absence. He hadn’t done badly, however, considering he’d had to improvise on the spot.

  Alexei and Lisa would be arriving the following week, so neither of them was likely to give the game away in advance. He knew Heather would eventually see through his claim that they’d both cancelled at the last minute, but he hoped by then she would understand and perhaps even approve of his strategy.

  His motives were pure. His tactics, he supposed, might be questionable. He’d also been purposely vague to Patrick when he arranged to borrow the cabin.

  Jason experienced a twinge of anxiety, or perhaps it was guilt. He’d always done his best to play by the rules until now.

  Yet if Heather hadn’t deceived him, he wouldn’t be in this position. And what was the alternative, insisting on a paternity test and trying to force her into letting him be a father to his daughter? It was much better to use gentle persuasion. Patrick, of all people, should understand when the truth came out.

  It might be a good idea to get his story straight with the embryologist to prevent any crossed signals, Jason decided, and went down the hall to the lab. There he found Eric posing, somewhat uncomfortably, while Loretta snapped photos of him and his equipment.

  She called a series of instructions that kept Eric shifting around for a series of shots. In her role as public relations director, there was no sign about her of the concerned infertility patient.

  Her hormone treatments had begun the previous week. With luck, she might have healthy embryos ready to implant next month.

  Eric spotted Jason. To Loretta, he said, “Don’t you want to take some shots of Dr. Carmichael? He’s more important than I am.”

  “What I’d prefer is both of you together.” Loretta waved him into the scene. “One of you, pick up that petri dish and show it to the other one.”

  “We do that all the time,” Jason joked as he followed her directions. “We’re always handing these things to each other.”

  “They make good Frisbees, except that they tend to break,” Eric said, getting into the spirit.

  Behind Loretta appeared a huge bouquet of orange-and-purple birds of paradise, white and yellow calla lilies and a sprinkling of smaller flowers. “Excuse me, Loretta, can I come through here?” asked a woman’s dry voice.

  The PR director glanced around. “Noreen! Those are perfect! Would you position them behind Dr. Carmichael and Dr. Wong?”

  “Certainly.” The bearer of the flowers turned out to be a sharp-faced woman in her seventies wearing a red-and-white volunteer’s uniform. She plunked the bouquet onto the counter where the petri dish had been sitting before Jason picked it up. “There you go.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Noreen McLanahan. I met you at the reception after your press conference.”

  Her name rang a bell. She was, Jason recalled, a major supporter of Doctors Circle and a member of its board of directors as well as a volunteer. “It’s good to see you again. Who sent the flowers?”

  “They’re from Dr. and Mrs. Barr to welcome Dr. Wong on board.” Noreen scooted out of the frame and Loretta resumed taking photos.

  “It’s a nice gesture.” Jason had appreciated the large bouquet he’d found on his desk soon after he arrived, as well.

  “They’re beautiful.” The embryologist fingered one of the slender birds of paradise. “They make me feel at home. I’m originally from Hawaii.”

  “By way of Boston.” Jason had worked with Eric during his residency, and been so impressed that he’d recruited him for this job.

  “Since you’re standing around anyway,” Noreen said from the sidelines, “I’d like to get your professional opinion on something, Dr. Carmichael.”

  “Go right ahead.” He did his best to maintain a dignified, pleasant expression for the camera and hoped it didn’t look as artificial as it felt.

  “While my husband was alive, we were never able to have children. Things like you’re doing now weren’t available,” Noreen said.

  “The changes in the past twenty years have been amazing,” Jason conceded.

  “Now I find myself in the position of having a new boyfriend,” the elderly woman continued. “I’ve been reading that women can give birth even after they’ve gone through menopause. Since I still have my original equipment, what are my chances, doc?”

  Although Jason didn’t think she was serious, he couldn’t be sure. “How old are you?”

  “Seventy-three,” Noreen announced proudly. “I was thinking, we could make history. Not to mention racking up some splendid publicity for Doctors Circle if I got pregnant at my age, wouldn’t you say, Loretta?”

  The PR director made a choking noise before rallying. “We’d make the National Enquirer, at least.”

  “You’d need an egg donor,” Eric added, joining the conversation.

  “And a lot of hormones,” Jason pointed out. Since he assumed she was joking, he decided not to mention that infertility clinics rarely agreed to treat a woman over fifty.

  “I like hormones,” Noreen said. “They make me feel young again. Do you suppose I could dance the tango? If I took enough of them, I mean?”

  “Before or after you got pregnant?” he asked.

  She chuckled. “On second thought, I’m not so keen on this business of getting knocked up at the doctor’s office. The old-fashioned way was much more fun.”

  “There’s no age limit on that one, either.” Loretta lowered her camera. “I think I’ve got enough, gentlemen. Thank you.”

  “I made them smile for you,” Noreen said.

  “You’re a treasure.” The younger woman put one arm around her. “What would we do without you?”

  “Die of boredom,” said Noreen. The two women exited together.

  “She’s adorable,” Eric said. “She reminds me of my grandmother.”

  “You must have some grandmother.” Jason stuck the petri dish on the counter.

  “She can still perform a mean hula,” he said.

  “That I’d like to see.” On the point of leaving, Jason recalled his purpose in seek
ing out Eric. “By the way, if anyone asks, you’re busy next weekend.”

  “I am?”

  “Go fishing or something,” he said. “Just stay away from the mountains.”

  “The weather service is predicting snow and I love skiing.” Eric had adopted the sport with a vengeance when he lived in Boston. “Seriously, I was thinking of heading up there. Once we start treating patients, it’ll be hard to get away.”

  That might be all right if he went to a different area in the mountains. Unless, of course, he showed up on Monday with his leg in a cast and regaled Heather with the story of his skiing mishap.

  “You’re in Southern California. You should take up boating,” Jason said.

  “I get seasick.”

  “Then try sunbathing.”

  “What’s going on?” Eric had never lacked curiosity, or forthrightness.

  “I have some personal business to attend to with a certain lady,” Jason said.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Heather Rourke.” That was as much as he cared to confide. “I’m arranging a retreat and the other staff members have been mysteriously called away. You had prior plans. And if you repeat this conversation to anyone…”

  “I won’t,” Eric said. “I may need a return favor someday.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Jason left while he was ahead. Matters were coming together so neatly, he would have believed this weekend was destined to succeed, if he’d been the kind of person who believed in destiny.

  ONE PLAYPEN, check.

  One portable high chair, check.

  One diaper bag and a supply of diapers, check.

  A stroller, baby wipes, bottles, formula, jars of baby food, bibs, booties, receiving cloths and umpteen changes of clothing for Ginger.

  What had she forgotten?

  “My suitcase,” Heather said aloud. She unstrapped the baby from the car seat and carried her out of the garage and around the row of town houses. Bright overhead lights kept the early-evening darkness at bay.

  It was hard to imagine how a grown woman could forget her own suitcase, until one saw how much stuff a baby required for a weekend, she thought as she fetched the overlooked valise. Balancing Ginger against her shoulder, she was on her way back to the car when Jason appeared.

 

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