Mother's Day Babies (Holiday Babies Series)

by Risk, Mona

  “How did you meet them? Who was your contact?”

  Bless you, Barbara, for shooting the right questions. All professional now, Lou waited for the information his lawyer might need.

  “I was looking for a job after Jennifer’s death and saw this ad in the paper. An agency organizing meetings between couples who couldn’t have children and women ready to be surrogates. Honestly, I had no idea what it was, but the pay was so unbelievable, I was intrigued and called for more explanation.”

  “Why did you need the money, Monica?” Barbara asked with a gentle tone.

  The young woman shuddered. “I was all alone with no job, no education, no future. I realized I should go to college if I wanted to be independent. The sum they promised would certainly cover the college tuition.”

  Lou took a step forward, ready to protest. Damn it, he’d paid for that college.

  “I thought your father already paid for your college.” Barbara arched her eyebrows, but kept rubbing Monica’s hands. The soothing gesture seemed to work.

  “I had to drop out from college and withdraw the money to pay for Jennifer’s treatment. She had no insurance.”

  Lou’s gasp echoed Barbara’s. Her eyes filled with tears. “You spent all of it on your mother, sweetheart? Her friends couldn’t take care of her?”

  A snort escaped from Monica’s pursed lips. “What friends? The men who lived with her over the years were a bunch of sleazeballs. I had enough trouble keeping their hands off me when I was a teenager.” The young woman lowered her head.

  Barbara threw Lou a frantic look. “And your mom—”

  Guilt stabbed him. Why hadn’t Monica said something? How could Jennifer let this abomination happen?

  “Jennifer got upset when I complained and ordered me to stop enticing her men with miniskirts and tight tops.” Monica shrugged. “I couldn’t wait to go away to college. But then she got sick and accused me of letting her die alone. I felt guilty and used the tuition money to help her.”

  Barbara reached and hugged her. “You did the right thing, sweetie.”

  “You think so? What was the use, she died anyway?” Such bitterness blasted from her voice, his knees wobbled. Lou clasped his phone in a tight grip and leaned on the windowsill, afraid he might drop it.

  “So you went to this agency. Do you remember its name and address?”

  Monica spelled them and Lou typed on his smart phone.

  “Then what happened, Monica?” Barbara gently continued her interrogation.

  “I met a couple, an engineer and a teacher in their late thirties. They said I was exactly what they wanted. A woman at the agency had me signed papers and explained I would be impregnated with the man…” Monica cast a glance toward the window where Lou stood and her voice died.

  “We understand,” Barbara clarified. “So it was his sperm and your ovule producing the fetuses. Not an unknown donor.”

  Lou exhaled in relief. Better than he expected, if that awful situation could be called an improvement. At least the father was what Lou called a normal, sane and healthy man, not an unknown donor with who knows-what-kind of past or disease, eager to collect a few bucks to buy drugs.

  “Were they nice to you?” Barbara’s voice sounded calm and interested, as she held Monica’s gaze. He mentally thanked her for extracting the full story out of Monica without an outburst of anger or a torrent of tears as he usually received when he probed the young woman.

  “Oh yes, very nice, at the beginning. With the money I received I rented an apartment, and they furnished it for me. They brought me food and gifts almost daily. By the fourth month, they were delighted to know I was expecting twins. But then they started fighting, even in front of me. They stopped coming for a few weeks. I was relieved not to have them on my back all the time.” Monica bit her lip and hesitated.

  “So they just disappeared?”

  “One day, Ian showed up alone. He said Sharon was a bitch, jealous of me. She gave him hell for looking at me and didn’t want my kids. I panicked and cried. What was I going to do with their twins?”

  “What did he say?”

  “He asked if he could stay in my apartment. I couldn’t say no after all they did for me.”

  Engrossed in her story, Lou had stopped typing. Unfortunately for her, Monica was her mother’s daughter. He could guess the rest of her tale, but he’d let her finish for Barbara’s benefit.

  “Why would he stay with you in particular?” Naive Barbara. This woman was a treasure who’d never met the likes of Jennifer and her daughter.

  “Sharon wanted a divorce and he’d left her. He was so nice to me.” Monica’s eyes gleamed and her voice perked. “A real gentleman, smart and generous, and a good-looking one, difficult to resist.” She jerked a shoulder and pouted. “I thought he’d marry me. And we’d raise our babies like a real family.”

  “Monica, you didn’t…” Barbara jumped to her feet.

  “Well, I’m only twenty-two. I had beautiful dreams for the future. I’m not a saint like you, Mrs. Ramsay. Are you going to abandon me now like my father?”

  Abandon her like her father. What about all the gifts, and money he’d sent her over the years? Fuming with repressed anger, Lou narrowed his eyes, ready to give her a piece of his mind. How like Monica to throw back a stone at those who helped her. The little shrew knew how to manipulate Barbara’s feelings.

  “Calm down, Monica. I didn’t expect you to be a saint. I have five daughters. The youngest is your age. They all had problems at one time or another. Continue with your story,” she coaxed. “If Ian was so nice, why were you calling for help?”

  “Because he left me after only three months. When I grew big and tired, the jerk disappeared for days. Then he came back one time and explained he reconciled with his wife, but she didn’t want these babies, not after he slept with me. He took off and left me on my own. I called Lou when I felt cramps. I thought I was going to die all alone. And my babies were going to die too.” Tears rolled on her pale cheeks.

  “Monica sweetie, I’m glad you shared your sad story with us. We’re going to do everything possible to help you. Now, it’s late. You should go to sleep.” Barbara hugged her. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Ramsay. Thank you so much.”

  Barbara turned toward him and crossed her arms. Her eyes flitted from him to Monica with a crystal clear order. His lips thinned at the smirk on his daughter’s face. But for the woman who’d become so dear to his heart, he approached the bed and placed a quick kiss on Monica’s forehead.

  A lump blocked his throat and he couldn’t utter a word.

  He straightened and studied the pretty face on the pillow. Pity invaded his heart. Poor little girl who’d never had a wonderful mother like Barbara.

  He was to blame too for letting Jennifer block his way. He could have given Monica so much if only she’d kept a civil tongue in her mouth and offered him a smile. Too late now, he’d learned not to expect anything from her. He turned and reached the door.

  “Lou,” Monica called.

  He froze in his tracks and spun.

  “Thank you for coming and for bringing Mrs. Ramsay.”

  Befuddled, he stared at her and nodded. It was the first time in her life that she’d thanked him and he didn’t know how to answer.

  Chapter Eight

  After a difficult night, where sleep eluded her for hours, Barbara woke up at dawn and headed to the bathroom. A hot shower would relax her stiff back and help her organize her thoughts in a rational way. She’d bet Lou hadn’t fared better with his sleep. He’d hardly said two words after they left the hospital and immediately retired to his room. Yesterday had been a long day with the flight from Paris, Monica’s delivery, and the emotional recount of her pregnancy.

  Barbara had to admit that her five daughters put together hadn’t given her as many headaches as Monica was serving her dad, or maybe her well-educated daughters were better equipped to cope with their problems
. Anyway, Barbara had always lent a supportive shoulder, wiped tears, and patiently listened while brewing a coffee and serving cookies. More recently, her daughters had benefitted from an excellent support system, with husbands or boyfriends taking active roles.

  Poor Monica had no one. Always generous, Lou signed checks without hesitation, not realizing that his daughter was in fact begging for his time and affection. How could Barbara encourage him to be more involved in Monica’s life when Lou considered himself a victim too—the father rejected and deprived of his child for years?

  Last night in Monica’s hospital room, Barbara heard his heavy breathing and gasps of outrage as his daughter blatantly accused him of neglect.

  Rejuvenated by the sting of hot water on her back, Barbara dressed and debated whether to order coffee or go to the hotel cafeteria. The phone ring chimed in the silence. She glanced at the digital clock. Only 6:15.

  “Lou, you’re already awake?”

  “I haven’t slept much. I’ve just ordered a breakfast for both of us. Can you come?”

  Hmm, did he take it for granted that she wouldn’t mind going to his room? Or was he so dazed by his sleepless night that he didn’t even consider the implication of his request?

  Oh bugger, why make a big deal out of his invitation? Monica’s problems had surely bonded them more tightly than a few kisses.

  “A strong coffee would be heaven. We have a lot to discuss.”

  “I’m waiting for you.”

  He did. The door swung open at her fist rap. Lou closed it behind her, enfolded her in his arms, and pressed her against him in a strong hug. The mingled aroma of freshly brewed coffee and Lou’s aftershave greeted her. “My dear Barbara, I don’t know what I’d have done without you yesterday. I’m sure…”

  The warmth of his body enveloped her as snugly as his arms. Although she knew he was thanking her for her help with Monica, she lost track of his words and focused on the firmness of his chest, the softness of his fingers along her throat, the longing and fervor of his lips on her cheek.

  As if the time elapsed between their last kiss in Paris and now had suddenly abated. Her eyebrows rose and she held his gaze. “Lou, I was glad to be at your side, to—”

  His mouth crushed on hers. She parted her lips and welcomed him, wanting him to know she shared his feelings. When he deepened his kiss, she linked her fingers behind his neck and responded with equal ardor, not caring if she could hardly breathe. His mouth trailed to her jaw, to her cheek and her temples and lingered on her closed eyelids. Her head tilted and his lips skated along the length of her throat. Tingles prickled her neck, arms, and chest.

  His hands massaged her back and slid to her sides. If they kept up their treacherous motion to her front, she’d soon melt in his arms and lose control of her senses. She jerked back, cupped his cheeks, and kissed him on the mouth. He indulged her with a searing kiss but continued his arousing caress, his fingers moving ever so slowly to her breasts.

  Unable to accept the challenge to her senses, she snatched her mouth away. “No. Bad timing, Lou.” She dropped her head in the hollow of his neck. “We need to discuss some problems,” she muttered with effort.

  His heavy breathing fanned her hair and he loosely wrapped his arms around her back. “Yes, bad timing. As if I could forget about Monica and her problems.”

  As if there would ever be a good time for her with so many kids and continuous problems around her. “I could use a strong coffee.” She smoothed her shirt and combed her hair with her fingers.

  “Me too.” He straightened, strode to the countertop, and poured two cups.

  Bending over the cocktail table, she prepared a plate of bagel and cheese and handed it to him. They settled in the comfortable chairs and sipped their morning coffee.

  “So what’s the schedule of the day?” She realized the stupidity of her question and laughed. “Other than going to the hospital, is there anything else we need to do?”

  “I already left a message for my lawyer. He’ll call soon. I want him to get me information about the Morevs, their financial status, jobs, etc… If they don’t want the babies, I’ll ask them to sign a release to avoid later complications in case they change their minds in a few years.”

  “Oh I didn’t think of that. You’re right.” Barbara appreciated his keen mind. Lou would take care of the legal and financial details.

  “The question is, can Monica keep her babies and raise them, or would it better for the sake of the children to put them into an adoption program?” He raked a hand through his hair and mussed it.

  “Well, Roxanne did—”

  “Your daughter is a responsible person. Besides, she had a good job, a great pay, and plenty of support.”

  “I know, Lou. Monica will need a huge amount of support. Not just your money.”

  “Be realistic. She’ll need twenty-four-seven help. Not a simple nanny but someone with experience to compensate for her own lack of experience. Her only role model has been her lousy mother who gallivanted from one lover to another. I don’t want these babies to end up being neglected the way she was with Jennifer. Here we’re talking about two kids, not one.”

  Barbara pinched her lips but held his gaze. He had a point. Could his daughter sacrifice her freedom to stay home with babies? Wouldn’t she get bored and frustrated after a while? Roxanne had met Greg and he considered her children his own.

  “We’ll have to explain that to her and ask her to think hard before making a decision.”

  “I count on you to talk to her. I failed big time at forming a good rapport with her.”

  “But she’s your daughter, not mine. You should—”

  “Please, Barbara. You raised five daughters. You’re good at talking to girls of all ages.” He gave a puppy-soft look so not like him she burst out laughing.

  “Drop this act, Lou. You know I won’t let you down.”

  He shrugged. “What can I say? I don’t know the abc of raising kids and I’ve never been able to convince Monica of anything. In one hour, you’ve established a better relationship with her than I did in twenty years.”

  “Okay, I’ll explain things to her and let her reach her own decision.”

  “It’d be better for everyone if you convince her to put them up for adoption. She’d be free to go to college and get an education.” Lou threw his hands in the air. “Heck, she, herself, needs to grow up before raising kids.”

  “I agree in principle, but I need to think about all that before going to the hospital.” No way on Earth, would she advice Monica to give up her babies. But then Lou was right. On her own, Monica would be doomed. “Another bagel, Lou?”

  He chuckled. “You know what I like about you? You never forget to be the gracious hostess. It’s second nature to you.” He straightened and bent to put a kiss on her nose. “Too bad you’re such a strict one,” he said with a wink. “I don’t need more food now, but we could have both used a quickie to unwind.”

  “Lou!”

  “Okay I’m sorry I hurt your chaste ears. Hmm, after thirty years of marriage and a whole week in my company your pretty ears shouldn’t be choked by depravity. More like tickled.” He tilted his head with a wicked glance. She shared his laughter. The man was impossible to resist. Yet she would resist. At least until they solved his daughter’s problems.

  Her cell phone rang. Barbara glanced at the id. “It’s Madelyn,” she told Lou.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart?”

  “Mom, where are you? Roxy told me you cut short your vacation and left for New York.”

  “I’m with Lou.” Barbara ignored Madelyn’s gasp. Since Lou had never revealed his daughter’s existence, Barbara decided to be vague. “We came to New York to help a relative of his who’s not feeling well. She was toxemic and just delivered twins at eight months.”

  “Are the babies okay?” Madelyn’s professional tone took over.

  “They were born 5.3 lbs and 4.2 lbs.”

  “Good for twins an
d an eight month delivery. The mother should be okay after the delivery. I’m sure they gave her a blood pressure medication, maybe magnesium.”

  “She has an IV line in her arm.”

  “She should be feeling better in a couple of days and discharged.”

  “A couple of days? Ah, that’s reassuring. I’ll tell Lou.” Good God, only two days to decide and organize so many things for Monica. “Sweetie, everything is going well. Call your sisters and update them. I’m too busy. Bye, now.”

  Barbara rubbed her chin with shaky fingers. “Lou, in two days—”

  “I heard. We don’t have much time, do we?”

  His phone chimed. “My lawyer.” Lou issued a summary of the situation and a few orders. “Give it top priority.”

  Had Lou ever classified any project as not-top-priority?

  “Let’s go to the hospital,” she suggested when he shut his phone.

  ****

  Monica was dozing when they arrived. They tiptoed and sat on the chairs next to the bed. Lou checked his email and read the report of his junior writer about surrogate procedures. A thorough piece of work that taught Lou everything he needed to learn about surrogates. The young journalist had a future at KNR TV.

  An aid entered rolling a cart and deposited a breakfast tray on the overbed table. Monica opened her eyes and scanned her surroundings. A big smile brightened her face. “Mrs. Ramsay, you’re back.”

  “Good morning, Monica. Your father is here too.” Barbara’s pointed look sent a clear message to his daughter.

  Monica acknowledged his presence with a nod. “Good morning, Lou.”

  Barbara turned to him with the same look and the same message. She seemed determined to instruct both him and Monica on father-daughter’s relationship. He repressed a smile and approached the bed to place a quick kiss on Monica’s forehead. A smile from Barbara rewarded their good behavior.

  “Sweetie, let me help you.” Barbara propped up the pillow and helped Monica sit. After uncovering a dish, she added cream and sugar to the coffee. “How was your night?”

  “Great. They gave me a pill to help me sleep. I just woke up now. I haven’t seen my babies yet.” Monica heartily ate her scrambled eggs while he quietly observed both women. Barbara definitely had a good influence on their patient.