“Will I be meeting the surrogate?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Melissa replied gently. “I realize that’s a letdown, after you’ve psyched yourself up, but I did tell you that your experience might differ from Stacy’s.”
Harper struggled to adjust to the notion that she’d be undergoing this process alone, except for the staff’s support. After three to six weeks of preparation, her eggs—hopefully a dozen or more—would be harvested. There’d be no mom or dad to witness the thrilling event. After the eggs were fertilized, healthy embryos would be implanted in the surrogate.
The process loomed as cold and impersonal, not what Harper had imagined. But while she had the right to change her mind, that didn’t seem fair. She’d agreed to this. Also, how would she explain a change of heart to Mia, after all the buildup about giving the gift of life to a family?
Onto her mental landscape flashed an image of two little boys romping in a field, giggling and playing catch with a blurry figure. Their father.
This wasn’t about Harper. It was about her sons. No, his sons.
“I take it the father has been carefully screened?” Despite knowing the answer, she craved reassurance.
“He’s a widower,” Melissa told her. “He works with children professionally. That’s all I can reveal, but we’ve run a background check and a psychological profile, as with all our parents, and he’ll make a wonderful dad.”
A widower who worked with children. For some reason, Peter came to mind. But he’d never mentioned trying to have kids and, besides, that description must fit a lot of men.
He was in her thoughts because she’d seen him this morning when she dropped off her daughter. Harper could have sworn Peter’s expression had brightened when he greeted her, although that might be wishful thinking.
In that case, what was she wishing for?
She returned her attention to the phone. “When do we start?”
“Dr. Sargent can see you this afternoon, if Dr. Franco will spare you for a little while.” Obstetrician Zack Sargent, husband of program director Jan Garcia, would be supervising Harper’s care and harvesting the eggs.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. No one promised you’d be able to bond with the children’s parents.
Concentrating on the afternoon’s schedule, she did some quick calculations. Nora’s partner, Dr. Paige Brennan, took off Friday afternoons to spend with her five-month-old daughter. Paige’s nurse, Keely Randolph, stayed a few hours afterward to order supplies and catch up on other tasks. She might be willing to fill in for Harper. “I’ll see if I can duck out. Can I call you right back?”
“Absolutely,” Melissa assured her.
A few minutes later, Harper had coordinated the plans. After a bite of her sandwich, she was on her way to Dr. Sargent’s office, on the same floor as Nora’s.
* * *
BETWEEN WORKING AND moving ahead with his plans, Peter’s week flew by. He designated Harper as the egg donor, signed legal papers and transferred into his checking account the money to pay out in the coming month.
The wheels were turning. If all went well, in less than a year, he’d become a father. On Saturday night, sitting in his living room surrounded by Angela’s cabinets and curios, Peter found himself talking to her.
“We were supposed to go on this journey together.” He addressed an angel figurine that reminded him of his wife. About seven inches high with wings ornamented by flower designs, the girl clutched an armful of daisies to her chest. “You told me to use your life insurance to have children, so you’re part of this, too. I’m not leaving you behind, honey. I will never do that.”
He didn’t care if someone else might consider him foolish. He wanted to reassure Angela, and himself, that they were in this together.
In the quiet room, he listened to the hum of electricity and the distant murmur of cars. The figurine’s expression remained serene.
“If it’s a little girl, I’ll name her after you,” he promised. “If it’s a boy, well, all bets are off.” Her father’s name had been Cecil, and Peter was not going to burden his son with that.
Something nagged at the back of his mind. It had to do with Harper.
Although he’d made a rational decision not to reveal his involvement, Peter wasn’t entirely satisfied with that. He had no desire to take advantage of her.
On the other hand, as much as he valued Harper’s contribution and as much as he liked and respected her, this wasn’t their journey as a couple. Each of them had a separate path in life.
Perhaps it would be a mistake to attend her daughter’s party tomorrow. He didn’t mean to give the impression that he was an intimate part of their world. But how could he disappoint Mia? On Friday afternoon, she’d been jumping up and down with excitement, reminding him to arrive at two o’clock.
Cutting them off would be cruel. It might also raise questions in Harper’s mind. Peter knew he ran a risk of having her discover the truth, since she worked next door to the hospital.
He’d attend tomorrow. But after that, Peter needed to ease out of her life. It was the best course for everyone.
* * *
HARPER DIDN’T RUSH TO spread the news to her friends. She’d rather not explain over the phone or by email that she’d been selected by a single dad, that he didn’t want to meet her and that she was beginning the process already. Better to wait and tell them in person.
On Saturday, she’d been too busy preparing for the party to see anyone. Now, on Sunday, she felt a twist of bittersweet longing as she welcomed Stacy and Cole, who’d come early to help.
Two days ago, she’d enjoyed seeing Stacy and Una’s shared happiness at the ultrasound. Now she struggled to absorb her own very different reality.
You have to tell her. And she would. Later.
On Friday, after a checkup to confirm she remained in good health, Zack Sargent had provided her with the birth control pills to start synchronizing her cycle and the surrogate’s. Although Harper expected to see him today when he and Jan dropped off their daughters, they certainly wouldn’t be discussing her medical treatment.
For now, she concentrated on organizing the refreshments. Attempting to help, Mia chattered and jumped about until she knocked over a stack of plastic cups.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.” She scooped them up.
“No harm done.”
It was a relief when Adrienne arrived with Reggie and the children exploded out the door. He and Mia chased each other around the patio, batting at the green balloons and streamers that were supposed to resemble vines. They put on antenna headbands Harper had made and hopped about shaking the black pipe cleaners and white pompoms. Po retreated, meowing in distress, until Harper carted him to the safety of the laundry room.
She emerged to see Adrienne, her long blond hair clipped back, pacing off the length of a competition course in the backyard. She’d agreed to organize outdoor games to intersperse with the bug hunt.
Harper went outside to welcome her friend. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”
“As if you didn’t help me whenever I need it.” Adrienne displayed a bag filled with plastic bugs. “I brought these as prizes. Everybody can take home a handful.”
“Those are darling.” Taking a closer look, Harper couldn’t help murmuring, “And creepy, too.”
“Vicki and I used to sneak toy spiders into each other’s beds.” As always at the mention of her late sister, a shadow crossed Adrienne’s face. “Sometimes months would go by. Just when I’d almost forgotten them, she’d scare the heck out of me. Or I’d do it to her. It was fun.”
“I miss her, too.” Harper and Stacy had been close to Vicki since junior high, sharing youthful crushes, playing computer games and helping one another with homework. When Harper’s father died, it was Vicki and
Stacy who’d stood by her, just as much as Sean.
When Vicki developed bipolar disorder, they’d rallied around her. But as she reached her twenties, her condition had deteriorated, especially after Reggie was born. Abandoned by the little boy’s father, Vicki had begun abusing alcohol.
Last New Year’s Eve, their friend had gone out drinking and crashed her car into a telephone pole. She’d died at the scene. It was lucky that Adrienne had already moved into the family’s home and taken on much of the responsibility for Reggie.
The doorbell rang, summoning Harper into the house. It was seven-year-old Fiona Denny with her stepmother, Patty. With barely a “Hi, Harper,” the little girl raced outside to join Mia and Reggie.
“She loves anything to do with science, just like her dad,” Patty said. An embryologist, Alec Denny was director of laboratories for the fertility program. “Watch out or she’ll start dissecting insects with a kitchen knife.”
“She does that?” Harper asked.
“Not yet, but we’ve had to stitch all her stuffed animals back together.” Patty shook her head. “Her dad thinks she ready to start doing experiments for real. I’m glad he’s willing to help. My reaction to bugs is to step on them.”
Harper remembered what Peter had said. “You’re lucky she doesn’t bring home snakes.”
“Oh, I’d shoot those.” A former police officer, Patty now worked as a private detective.
“You still carry a gun?” Harper had never seen her armed.
“No, but I practice at the gun range.” Patty spotted a family approaching the open door. “Oh, hey, folks!”
Dr. Zack Sargent and his wife, Jan Garcia, had brought their daughters, Kimmie and Berry. When she invited them to the party, Harper hadn’t imagined that she’d be working with Zack so soon. But naturally they kept private and work lives separate.
There was no time to talk, with more children showing up. While Stacy and Cole were mixing the punch and setting out snacks, Harper distributed antenna headbands and magnifying lenses.
Gifts piled up on a side table. Outside, kids ran laughing and giggling under Adrienne and Patty’s supervision. Declining their offer of help, she sent Zack and Jan to enjoy a rare child-free day. The parents of the other kids, Mia’s school friends, didn’t stick around, which was fine with Harper.
Where was Peter? It was nearly two-thirty, and no sign of him yet.
Hesitant to launch the bug hunt without him, Harper suggested Adrienne start the grasshopper jumping contest. Each child leaped in turn, with Patty marking the spot. The goal was to beat their own best distance. Those who succeeded could pick a plastic creepy-crawly from the bag.
With matters well in hand, Harper headed for the kitchen. Stacy and Cole appeared to be squabbling over the birthday cake. When they saw her, a guilty expression flashed over Cole’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Harper asked.
Stacy pointed at the frosted carrot cake, baked in a flat sheet. Cole had methodically traced a grid pattern over the surface—preparing to cut it into squares—and messed up the words Happy Seventh Birthday, Mia.
“I forgot about the candle thing,” the surgeon said.
“How could you do that?” his fiancée scolded. “The kids haven’t even seen it yet.”
“My mother wasn’t the birthday party type,” Cole reminded her.
“No harm done.” Harper thought fast. “We’ll tell the kids you prepared it for surgery. A lot of them have parents in the medical field. They’ll understand.”
“Brilliant,” Stacy said.
“This way they can eat sooner, too,” her husband observed.
Kimmie Sargent wandered inside. “I need to go to the bathroom.” When Harper pointed her in the right direction, she hurried off.
Stacy watched her with a motherly expression. “I can’t wait to find out if we’re having a little girl. I mean, out of three, the odds are pretty good, wouldn’t you say?”
“It isn’t hard to calculate,” Cole told her. “Each child has a one-in-two chance of being a girl or a boy. You multiply that―”
His wife raised her hands. “It isn’t all probabilities. Harper’s certain she’s got two little boys waiting to be born.”
Cole merely looked confused.
“I hope someone picks you soon,” Stacy said.
It was the perfect opening, so Harper jumped in. “As a matter of fact, I found out yesterday that I’ve been chosen.”
“Fantastic!”
She summarized the events: Melissa’s phone call, the revelation about a single dad and her decision to proceed.
Stacy listened wide-eyed. Cole’s expression was detached, as if he’d shifted into physician mode. Second nature for him, Harper supposed.
“I’m going to be a mom, but I won’t be part of the pregnancy or the birth,” she concluded wistfully.
“You must be disappointed,” Stacy said.
“As an egg donor, this is what I signed up for. Still, I’m sorry I can’t be more involved. I’ll never even know if it’s a girl or a boy. Or if there’s more than one.”
From the living room doorway came a rustling sound. Startled, Harper turned to see Peter, a wrapped gift in one hand, a pie in the other and a furrow between his eyebrows. How much had he heard?
“I didn’t mean to intrude.” He stepped aside to let Kimmie dodge past. Out she went via the patio slider. “That little girl let me in.”
Harper’s cheeks flamed. What was the last thing she’d said? If he’d learned that she was an egg donor, what did he think of it?
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Peter added. “My parents dropped by unexpectedly. They had some information about my sister’s upcoming wedding and they brought me a pie. I can’t eat it all myself, so please accept this as a peace offering.”
“No apology necessary.” As Harper transferred the pie to the counter, the aroma of apples and cinnamon teased her senses. “Cole’s happy to exercise his surgical skills on any and all desserts. Peter, I’d like you to meet my friends Cole and Stacy.”
When the men shook hands, she saw a glint of recognition pass between them. If Peter was Cole’s patient, it was none of her business, she thought. Still, why not just acknowledge that they knew each other?
“Gifts go on that table, I see.” As Peter squared his shoulders, it drew Harper’s attention to the slogan on his navy T-shirt: When Life Gives You Mold, Make Penicillin. How appropriate for a biologist.
“I think the grasshopper games are winding down,” she said. “Come on out and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
She resolved not to worry about what he might have heard. She and Peter were friends, nothing more. If the relationship developed later, there’d be plenty of time to discuss her decision to donate. As a scientist, surely he’d understand.
And if not, too bad. Harper wasn’t living her life subject to a man’s approval.
Chapter Six
That had been uncomfortable, Peter reflected—accidentally eavesdropping on Harper, and then shaking hands with Cole as if they were strangers. Neither he nor his doctor had figured out a better way to react on the spur of the moment.
That, however, was unimportant compared to the insight he’d gained into Harper’s feelings. He was sorry she felt let down about the donation process. Peter had to admit that, while he’d given much thought to how she might relate to any future children, he hadn’t realized she looked forward to being involved with the pregnancy.
Although it was minor by comparison, he hadn’t meant to disappoint her by arriving late, either, but his parents had put in an unexpected appearance. They’d tried to call first, but Peter had accidentally left his phone off. Unable to reach him, Rod and Kerry had taken the chance of dropping by on their way to join friends for a barbecue.
They’d only meant to leave the pie, one of several his mother had baked that morning, but then they’d asked about the latest developments in his quest for fatherhood. Before he knew it, half an hour had passed.
Now, after giving Mia and Reggie a hug, he gathered the children for the hunt. They responded with enthusiasm when he explained that they were all scientists today—that they’d be observing insect and spider activity, taking pictures and jotting notes on pads that he’d brought in his knapsack.
“When you get home, you can write about what you’ve seen, then combine your comments with your photos on pages so they look like books.” That idea had struck him this morning, and he’d spent an hour researching and printing directions on how to lay out the pages so they could be printed, folded and stapled to give to parents and grandparents. This would reinforce their writing skills as well as encourage them to do more research on their computers. “I’ll give you each an instruction sheet to take home. It’ll be a fun project. I’m sure your parents will be glad to help you.”
“We can make our own little books!” Mia cried.
“Exactly.” The comment reminded Peter of his idea to write a children’s book. But while it was easy to visualize the type of photos he’d like to include, he lacked the patience and the artistic eye to capture them. Speaking of photos... “Okay, who brought cameras and who needs one?”
“Mommy gave me one for my birthday.” Mia waved a small camera.
Other children showed theirs or accepted the disposable ones Peter offered. With the aid of Harper’s outdoor team—Reggie’s aunt Adrienne, whom he’d met at sports camp, and a sturdy woman named Patty—he set to work.
Hard as he tried to put Harper’s disappointment out of his mind, though, her words lingered. “I’ll never even know if it’s a girl or a boy.”
Occasionally, Peter sneaked a glance at Harper. If she was unhappy, you’d never guess it from the way she kept up with the kids. Her face alight, she teased the youngsters out of their squeamishness and assisted them with framing their shots.
His Baby Dream (Safe Harbor Medical) Page 6