“Say no more.” Jason grabbed his gear and sprang to his feet. “I’m on my way.”
THE TWIN GIRLS came lustily into the world. Fully mature although a bit on the small side, they were as healthy as a mother could wish.
“Congratulations,” Heather said, stitching up the mother while a pediatrician checked the newborns.
“Can I see them?” Cynthia asked from where she lay on the operating table.
“I’ll have the nurse lay them next to you,” Heather said. “As soon as they’ve had their tune-up.”
A few minutes later, the first baby was set next to her mother while the second was being checked. Tears slid down Cynthia’s cheeks, running past her oxygen mask. “She’s so beautiful.”
“You bet,” Heather said. “Have you decided on names yet?”
After a long pause, Cynthia answered, “I’m not going to name them.”
“Why not?” asked a nurse.
“Because…” The new mother stopped to clear her throat. “I’ve made a decision. Ever since you told me about giving up Olive for adoption, Heather, I’ve been thinking about it. I want Loretta Arista to adopt my babies. I know this is an unusual time to bring it up, but that’s how I feel.”
Silence fell over the operating room as everyone digested this unexpected information. “Have you talked to her about it?” Heather asked.
“No,” came the reply. “But she and her husband would be perfect. I might even get to see the girls once in a while, although all I want is to make sure they’re happy. Would you ask her for me?”
“I’ll be glad to.” Heather hoped Cynthia’s decision hadn’t been impulsive. Giving up a child for adoption, or two children in this case, was not a choice to make lightly.
From years of almost daily contact, Cynthia must have been able to follow her thoughts, because she added, “Don’t put it off, thinking I’ll take it back. I’ve talked this over with my counselor and given it a lot of thought. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“I promise to talk to Loretta as soon as I can,” Heather said.
What an unexpected situation, she thought, and what a wonderful opportunity for Loretta. Most would-be adoptive parents went through months or years of searching for a suitable child. But sometimes fate worked in mysterious ways.
Soon Cynthia, sedated to help the healing process, was moved to the recovery room, while the little girls were taken to the nursery. After cleaning up, Heather went to find out how Rita’s delivery was going.
She wished she could have been there for this patient as well, but Cynthia had been prepped first. Besides, there was no one Heather trusted in an operating room more than Jason. She was glad he’d been available to fill in for George.
The delivery of triplets was a major production, requiring a large support team to take care of each child as well as the mother. According to the charge nurse, everything was proceeding well.
Cynthia went out to reassure Rita’s extended family, who filled a large section of the lobby. Among them, she wasn’t surprised to find Loretta and her husband, Mario.
“Could I talk to you both privately for a moment?” she asked after giving a progress report. “It’s not about your sister.”
“Sure.” Wearing a puzzled expression, the public relations director and her husband followed Heather into the cafeteria. It was nearly empty at this hour and they were able to find a secluded table where no one would overhear.
“Maybe this isn’t the best time to spring this, but I promised Cynthia I’d speak with you,” Heather began.
“Oh, that’s right, someone said she delivered her twins. Are they okay?” Loretta ran a hand through her dark hair. When it sprang back, the white streak stood out sharply.
“They’re fine.” Heather decided to get right to the point. “She told me on the operating table that she’s decided to give up the girls for adoption and she wants you to have them.”
Loretta blinked in surprise. Mario, a solidly built man in his mid-thirties with a down-to-earth air, began to smile. “Wow. Two little girls? I’ll bet they’re darling.”
“I didn’t think you cared whether we had children,” his wife said.
“I didn’t want to pressure you,” he said. “But you know, all this business with your sister getting ready for triplets has made me think how much fun it would be to have kids.”
“No one in my family has ever adopted,” Loretta told Heather. “I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with the idea, even though we went through the whole home study process.”
“You’re using the past tense. Does that mean you’ve changed your mind?” she asked.
“After seeing how happy Amy is with Quent’s niece and nephew, I realized that once children belong to you, there’s no difference,” Loretta explained. “You love them the same as if you’d given birth to them.”
Both of them had questions, of course. Over the course of the next half hour, Heather could see their excitement building. They decided to go view the babies at the nursery, then talk to Cynthia tomorrow when she’d be lucid enough for a discussion.
“If she really means it, we’ll talk to an adoption lawyer on Monday,” Mario said.
“You mean you’re not going to leave the whole business to me this time?” teased his wife.
“Hey, I’m going to be a father.” Mario put a companionable arm around Loretta’s shoulders. “I plan to share the responsibility.”
“Does that include learning to change diapers?” she asked.
“You bet.”
A bittersweet sense of nostalgia twisted inside Heather as she watched them leave the cafeteria, talking eagerly together. This was the joy she’d handed to Olive’s adoptive parents, although she hadn’t completely understood it at the time.
She would never forget the pain of giving up her daughter. Mercifully, her emotions had mellowed now to an understanding of how much good she’d done for everyone. Above all, she was grateful that, in her case, life had come full circle and brought her a heaping measure of love.
Yet there was still something missing. Now that Ginger was growing up in Texas, far from her grandmother’s constant attention, Heather missed having the chance to nurture a small child through every stage of development.
And she missed having a man to share the happiness. She still dreamed sometimes of a groom awaiting her at the altar as she strolled up the aisle. Would she ever find him?
In the lobby, Heather spotted Jason arriving to address Rita’s assembled relatives. Although a bit rumpled after the operation, he was beaming.
“The neonatologist says the children are doing extremely well,” he announced. “There are two girls and a boy. They’re large for triplets and in excellent condition. We don’t expect any serious complications, although they’ll need to be watched closely for a while.”
Excited relatives peppered him with inquiries, which he did his best to answer. In his white coat, Jason fit the image of a doctor that Heather had grown up with on television shows: strong, kind and confident.
More than that, he seemed genuinely thrilled as he discussed the children. There was such tenderness on his face that her resistance melted.
Across the lobby, his gaze met hers and he winked as if they were fellow conspirators. In a way, they were: both miracle workers.
Their paths were linked in so many other ways, too. If only their futures could be linked. Reluctantly, Heather admitted to herself that Jason could easily be the man she’d dreamed about since she was young.
She loved him. There it was, clear and not at all simple. And, most likely, hopeless.
No matter how she felt, he would never be standing at the altar welcoming her into his future. He would never have a child with her that they could raise together. He had his own goals and they didn’t include the kind of life she wanted.
To her dismay, Heather spotted him coming toward her. She froze. How on earth was she going to manage to act casually, after realizing that she loved him with a
ll her heart?
Chapter Fifteen
“Is something wrong?” Jason asked. Up close, he looked even handsomer than he had across the lobby, although a bit tired, too, Heather mused.
Behind him, Rita’s family streamed toward the elevators that led to the second-floor nursery. They’d have a field day viewing those three little sweethearts, even though the babies were still too fragile to be handled.
Heather shook her head. “It’s just some old sentiments rising to the surface.” She told him about Cynthia’s decision to relinquish the babies.
Jason considered for a moment before responding. “Adoption may be a good idea for her, but I know it must be difficult. I hope it works out for everyone.”
“You used to be more judgmental,” Heather couldn’t resist pointing out. “I remember you saying that she should have been more careful.”
“That was before I, well, learned a few lessons of my own,” he conceded.
“Such as what?”
“Such as what it’s like to have a daughter. Even though I was mistaken.” He released a long breath. “And let’s face it, we weren’t the least bit careful in the mountains. You were right about people getting carried away, even people who ought to know better.”
“Congratulations,” she teased, “and welcome to the human race.”
“Was I that bad?” Jason’s plaintive expression made Heather long to put her arms around him. She knew better than to do that, especially in the Birthing Center lobby.
“Sometimes,” she said. “I can be prickly, too, though.”
“Who, you?” he joked. “Never!”
“Only when pushed beyond human endurance,” she amended.
They stood for a long moment, studying each other. Thank goodness the lobby was nearly empty on a Saturday night.
“I’m hoping we can continue this discussion at my place,” Jason said. “Or yours.”
A lump formed in Heather’s throat. Now that she knew she loved him, she couldn’t bear to risk her heart any further. “Bad idea.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” He lingered for another moment, perhaps searching for words. What he finally said was, “Then I’ll see you at work Monday.”
“Great.” Heather gave him a pleasant, impersonal nod. She maintained her composure all the way to the parking garage, where she sank into the front seat of her car with her pulse racing.
Had she made a mistake? Dr. Cocteau was arriving on Wednesday. Despite Jason’s disclaimer, she had no doubt the French researcher was coming here with an agenda. And Heather had just made it clear that, as far as she was concerned, Jason could leave.
Well, so what? He wasn’t going to stay in Serene Beach on her account, in any case. One love affair more or less wouldn’t stop the great Dr. Carmichael’s relentless climb to international glory. Nor was Heather the sort of person to tag along with him, even if he asked her.
She’d made the right decision. She only wished the tears would stop rolling down her cheeks so she could put the car in gear and drive home.
ON WEDNESDAY morning, Jason got some terrific news. Eva LoBianco’s home pregnancy test had come up positive. He repeated the test himself and got the same result.
“Congratulations,” he told her and her husband. “Of course, it’s very early but we can certainly be optimistic at this point.”
“Can you tell how many babies I’m carrying?” she asked.
“It’s too soon to tell,” Jason said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to wait about another month to do a sonogram. In the meantime, let’s get you started with prenatal vitamins.…”
After the patient left, he allowed himself a moment’s jubilation. This was the first confirmed pregnancy for the clinic. Especially exciting was the fact that it had resulted from advanced technology.
Jason put in a call to Patrick Barr. The administrator let out a cheer. When he calmed down, he said, “Let’s face it, it doesn’t hurt that the father-to-be is one of Doctors Circle’s benefactors.”
“Good deeds sometimes bring their own reward,” Jason said.
“Do you think it’s too soon for a press release, assuming that they agree?”
“Way too soon,” he said. “Let’s wait until she successfully completes the first trimester.” He had a good feeling about this one, though.
He was still elated when Maurice Cocteau arrived in midday. The physician, whose silver hair added to his distinguished appearance, inspected the premises with keen interest and congratulated Jason after hearing about the success with Mrs. LoBianco. He spoke politely with each other staff member to whom he was introduced, including Heather.
After the informal tour, they repaired for lunch to the Sailor’s Retreat, a seafood restaurant beside the harbor. Through its broad windows, they had an expansive view of sailboats lazing in the sunshine.
“Southern California is very seductive,” said the Frenchman as he perused the wine menu. “You are happy here?”
“Yes, I am.” Jason knew the question hadn’t been asked idly. Heather was right. The man had a proposition to make, although no doubt he intended to take his time about presenting it.
Maurice selected a sauvignon blanc. Jason decide to pass up the wine, since he wasn’t used to drinking at midday.
They discussed new developments in reproductive research as they waited for their food. Jason was excited to learn about some of the work Maurice described at his facility near Paris.
“Your face lights up when we talk of these things,” said his guest after they were served. “Yet you say that you are happy devoting yourself to clinical work.”
“There isn’t always a sharp distinction between clinical work and research,” Jason pointed out. “As you know, often we discover things one step at a time, simply by adapting to circumstances.”
“This is true,” the Frenchman agreed.
They both knew that, unlike the development of new medications, reproductive research was largely unregulated. Although doctors had to be careful for ethical as well as liability reasons, small advances in surgical and laboratory techniques could be made in a setting such as Doctors Circle.
“You have a great aptitude for research.” Dr. Cocteau leaned forward, speaking intently. “Sometimes you must long to devote yourself to it without the pressures of scheduling so many patients and handling administration.”
“No situation is perfect.” Jason waited to hear what else his visitor would say.
“Naturally, I understand that you take your responsibilities here seriously, but surely by next year you can take a sabbatical to hone your skills,” Maurice said. “We are prepared to offer you a three-month research fellowship next summer.”
Jason hadn’t expected this. A three-month stint at the French facility would enable him to keep up with the latest developments in research. He might even be able to make at least a small contribution of his own without requiring that he abandon his work in Serene Beach.
It would also mean temporarily leaving his patients in the hands of others. However, he was building a staff that would provide excellent care, and he’d be able to bring back new ideas that would benefit the whole program.
“It’s certainly worth thinking about,” he said.
“If you are happy with us, perhaps it will lead to other things in the future,” Maurice said. “Who knows?” He downed a bite of his fish before saying, “The food here is very good. Not so good as in Paris, of course, but excellent all the same.”
Paris. Jason, who had visited the city when he was working in England, loved the formal parks, sidewalk cafés and colorful flower stands. He missed the scent of the crisp loaves called baguettes drifting from the bakeries and the cultural offerings from the Louvre to the opera.
He would relish showing the city to Heather. Perhaps she might accept an invitation to visit him during his time away.…
I can’t handle a love-’em-and-leave-’em guy, even if he’s honest about it up front.
But he wasn’t pla
nning to leave. There was nothing wrong with taking a sabbatical. Heather herself had gone on leave for two months last year.
“You’re right about the food,” he told Maurice. “And your offer is quite an honor. May I have a few days to think about it?”
“Of course,” said his guest. “Take your time. Call me when you make a decision.”
“It won’t be long,” Jason promised.
BEING INTRODUCED to Maurice Cocteau had been a memorable but also a deflating experience, Heather reflected that evening as she donned her oldest jeans and sweatshirt to wash her car.
The man radiated importance, not because of an inflated ego but because he was brilliant. She’d admired him for years. Yet, despite his courtesy, it had been evident that his real interest remained fixed on Jason.
Okay, so I’m not the whiz kid on the block, she told herself as she threw rags and a bottle of detergent into a bucket, draped a couple of old towels over her shoulder and picked up a footstool. I never have been. Why should it bother me now?
Heather let herself out of the town house, locked it and tucked the key into her pocket. Normally, she took her car to the local auto spa, which was what she’d done a few days earlier. Within hours afterward, she’d run into some mud generated by an overactive sprinkler, followed the next day by a close encounter with a couple of birds soiling her car. This time, she planned to give the vehicle a quick cleaning herself.
Twilight turned the landscaped walk into a jungle pathway. Perfume from a flowering vine reminded Heather that it was nearly summer.
As she circled the building toward her carport, she wondered what Jason was doing tonight. She’d like to find out what Dr. Cocteau had said. Maybe she should swing by his place.…
If she intended to behave, she shouldn’t seek out temptation, Heather rebuked herself. Besides, she was hardly dressed for socializing.
When she reached her car, she backed it out and drove a few dozen feet to where the manager left a hose coiled for the use of residents. In the gathering dusk, Heather set to work beneath a pole light while her mind resumed its earlier train of thought.
Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe Page 18