Chairs slid back on the carpet, a few knees cracked as they rose and several hands were shaken. Still irked that they’d been found out, Nick headed for the door. Just who had tipped off Marshall and the others?
His cousin was close behind. “All’s well that ends well, eh?” Marshall said as they exited into the corridor.
“Yeah. That could have been ugly,” Nick said sarcastically. “All those surgeons duking it out with their precious hands.”
Marshall responded with a tight smile. “Good thing Zady spoke up.”
Zady. She’d tipped off Marshall about the meeting, and through him, the rest of the brass. Nick’s chest hurt as if he’d been punched. Damn it, he’d trusted her.
“Listen, there’s something else we need to discuss,” Marshall said.
What else had Zady revealed? “Okay. Just let me check my voice mail.” Nick hadn’t responded earlier when the phone had vibrated, and as a father, he couldn’t afford to stay incommunicado for long.
He pressed the number for voice mail. And, still listening, broke into a run.
* * *
ZADY HAD READ that mothers felt guilty even when they had done nothing wrong. Her own mother was a poor example; she’d never shown any remorse for pitting her twin daughters against each other so she could remain the center of attention. However, Zady more than compensated now. Self-blame filled her as she raced from the medical building, past flower beds brimming with pansies and primroses, and through the staff entrance to the hospital.
Knowing how upset Caleb had been, she should have checked on him instead of staying in the break room. Despite an inner voice reminding her that Nick was in charge of his son, she felt responsible.
At the entrance to the day care center, Zady weakened with relief. Ahead, facing a couple of concerned adults, stood the small, sturdy figure of Caleb Davis.
Maureen Arthur, her short dark hair rumpled and her glasses sliding down her nose, peered toward Zady. “We were about to lock down the hospital, when a cafeteria worker brought him over.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Zady issued a quick, silent prayer of thanks before adding, “The smell of food must have drawn him.”
A woman wearing the yellow uniform of cafeteria staff said, “He told me he was looking for his father. Something about wanting to see his grandparents.”
“He’s been missing them,” Zady said. “Caleb, are you okay?”
For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her. Then he addressed Maureen. “Why did you call Auntie Zee? Where’s my dad?”
Zady’s face flushed. Caleb’s rejection hurt, and he’d embarrassed her in front of the others. In their averted gazes, she read doubts about her relationship with the boy. And perhaps those were justified.
Don’t overreact. This isn’t about you.
“Caleb?” Nick’s voice, thick with anxiety, rumbled from behind Zady. “Hey, little guy, you scared me. Don’t ever do that again!” When his son raced forward, Nick scooped him up. “What’s going on, kid? You know better than to run off.”
From his position high in his father’s arms, Caleb glared at Zady. “It’s her fault! I had to get away from her.”
Zady stood frozen. That wasn’t what he’d told the cafeteria worker. But it hardly mattered, did it?
When Nick swung around, she looked to him for reassurance. Instead, his glare shocked her.
“Auntie Zee may mean well, but she isn’t a very trustworthy person,” he said.
What? The insult stung, badly. She had no idea where it had sprung from, but they shouldn’t have this discussion in front of others.
As if things weren’t bad enough, Maureen replied, “I can remove Nurse Moore as an emergency contact if you wish, Dr. Davis.”
Nick blinked, perhaps recalling that he relied on Zady for overnight care. “No, that isn’t necessary.”
Maybe not in his view, Zady thought. But hers was changing rapidly.
Another male voice broke into her daze. “Is everything okay?” It was Marshall, from the hallway. He didn’t appear to have heard the humiliating exchange, or at least, Zady hoped not.
“Fine, now,” Nick said.
“Hi, Dr. Marsh!” The knife inside Zady twisted. The boy was delighted to see everyone except her.
She eased away. “I’ll go finish my lunch,” she muttered, and hurried off. Every muscle in her body ached, as if she’d been pummeled from all sides. And in a sense, she had been.
* * *
HE SHOULDN’T HAVE snapped at Zady in public, Nick conceded as the slim figure in the blue-flowered uniform disappeared around a corner. But she had a lot to apologize for, too.
Her betrayal had shaken him. Her spilling his confidences to Marshall had not only broken his trust in her, it had potentially harmed his colleagues. Nick hadn’t decided how to explain that he was the source of the leak, but when he did, he doubted they’d ever look at him the same way again.
Meanwhile, he had a decision to make regarding Caleb. As the day care director waited, he wondered whether to sign the boy out for the rest of the day. He didn’t like the idea of rewarding misbehavior, however.
Marshall resolved the matter by saying in a low, urgent voice, “I need to speak with you, Nicholas.”
About the Porvamm business? Well, whatever it was, Marshall was being very insistent.
“Okay.” Setting Caleb on the floor, Nick asked him, “Have you eaten?”
His son shook his head.
“I’ll make sure he does,” Maureen said.
“Thank you. And to everyone who was inconvenienced, I’m sorry to have put you through this,” Nick said.
“I assure you, we’ll review our practices so that we never lose track of a child again,” the director told him.
“Good.” After taking leave of his son, Nick accompanied his cousin into the hallway. “What’s up?”
Marshall’s stance shifted uneasily. “I’d appreciate if you’d accompany me to the next building. There’s... Well, it’s easier to show you.”
That was odd, but Nick strode beside his cousin to the staff exit. “Don’t you have patients?”
“They’ve been rescheduled.”
Marshall must have planned ahead. Was this something else Zady had conspired in?
In the office building, they took the elevator to the sixth floor. During the short ride, Marshall uttered a few random remarks about the truce regarding office space, to which Nick responded with nods. Polite chitchat had never been his cousin’s strength, and Nick was too puzzled to try to converse.
On the top floor, Marshall hastened along a hallway, clearly eager to get on with whatever he had in mind. Curiouser and curiouser.
He paused at a door marked Conference Room. Not another ambush! Nick gritted his teeth.
Inside, the room was empty, save for a single man. Behind the long table, a lanky figure paced by the window, hands jammed in his pockets.
With a quick intake of breath, Nick noted the graying brown hair and the slight stoop of the shoulders. Quentin Davis had aged markedly in the decades since he’d abandoned his family, but he wore a familiar wary expression. Well, he’d always been on the cusp of an excuse.
This was an ambush. “What the hell?” Nick asked his cousin.
Marshall spread his hands. “He begged me to arrange a meeting because you wouldn’t meet him otherwise. You’re free to leave, but I hope you’ll let him say whatever’s on his mind. It seems important to him.”
“I don’t appreciate the interference,” Nick said flatly. How terrific—first Zady, then Marshall had let him down today.
“Ten minutes, that’s all I ask.” Quentin didn’t attempt to draw closer.
Nick shrugged. “Might as well.”
“I’ll give you guys your privacy.”
Marshall stepped back through the open door.
“Wait!” Quentin cried. “This concerns both of you.”
That appeared to surprise Marshall. “Why?”
Nick’s dad clenched his hands. What on earth was such a big deal after all these years?”
“Because,” he said shakily, “I’m your father, too.”
Chapter Eighteen
Was this another of his father’s lies or psychosis-induced delusions? But as Quentin laid out his story, there was no hint of hyperactivity about the man, and no telltale embellishments. Just simple statements that, to Nick, sounded credible.
Quentin and Adina Davis had had two sons, eleven months apart. Barely scraping up enough money for food, and living in their SUV, they hadn’t planned on a second child.
Quentin’s older brother, Upton, and his wife, Mildred, had had the opposite problem. Although wealthy from Upton’s inventions and business, they were unable to bear children. At the encouragement of the grandparents, they proposed to adopt the older baby, Marshall.
“I’m not proud of this.” Seated facing the younger men, Quentin twisted his hands atop the table. They were blue-veined and marked by age spots, although he was only in his fifties. “Upton offered to rent us an apartment and help with other expenses. In return, he and Mildred swore us to silence. No one, including you boys, was ever to know. Once the adoption went through, they arranged a new birth certificate for Marshall.”
Nick’s cousin held himself stiffly. He isn’t my cousin—he’s my brother. How weird was that? The guy who’d sneered at him growing up, with snide remarks about his unstable parents, had the same genetic heritage he did.
Yet Nick felt no satisfaction, only sympathy for Marshall. This disclosure might be jarring for Nick, but his entire identity hadn’t just been thrown into question. “It’s illegal to buy a baby,” he pointed out.
His father dipped his head in acknowledgment. “That was another reason for keeping quiet.”
“Why tell us now?” Marshall asked quietly.
“I’ve been undergoing treatment for bipolar disorder,” Quentin said. “As part of my treatment, I’ve had to face what I’d done to you both. Marshall, I know our decision sounds selfish, but it wasn’t only for our sakes. Upton and Mildred could provide you with a good home, financial support and a superior education.”
“You must be aware that I’ll ask my mother about this.” Marshall’s irregular breathing implied he had to remind himself to inhale.
“She’ll be furious, but it’s too late for her to try to get even.” The creases deepened in Quentin’s weathered face. “I haven’t received money from my brother or his wife since Nick was ten.”
“Since you dumped me and Mom,” Nick said.
“Everything I did was for your own good, both you and Marshall,” Quentin insisted. “Surely you can see that.”
“Secrets and lies,” Marshall retorted bitterly. “And you’re springing it on us now to make yourself feel better.”
The older man’s shoulders slumped. “That’s not my intent.”
Nick tried to be fair. “I suppose you figured you were sparing Mom and me by not inflicting your troubles on us any longer when you left.”
“Was I wrong?”
“And me?” Marshall demanded. “Yes, I did live a wealthier lifestyle, but because of your actions, I had no idea Aunt Adina was my birth mother. I’m not sure I ever had a private conversation with her. You took away my chance to know my real mom, and that can’t be undone.”
“I’m sorry,” their father said. “I didn’t dare speak out while Adina was alive because Mildred continued sending her money. Since her death, well, I guess it’s taken me two years to work up my nerve.”
Marshall had a lot of emotional sorting-out ahead, Nick thought. By contrast, he found the revelation oddly comforting. His dad had put his sons first, or tried to.
Marshall pushed back his chair. “Typically, you maneuvered me into setting up this meeting.”
Nick rose also. “It’ll take us a while to process this, Dad.” He hadn’t meant to use that term of endearment, but noticing the flicker of relief in his father’s eyes, he didn’t regret it.
“You both have my phone number,” Quentin said. “I’ll be driving back to Bakersfield today. But if you have any desire to talk or—whatever—I’m available.”
With brief, identical nods, the doctors Davis left the room.
“I’m sorry I dragged you to this,” Marshall said. “I felt sorry for Uncle Quent and...well, I should have been honest with you. As he should have been with me.” When they reached the elevator, he jabbed the button.
“Dad’s good at playing on people’s sympathy.” Nick studied the man beside him, the cousin he’d resented for too long. In the past months, he’d gained an appreciation of Marshall’s good qualities, as well as of how much they had in common. Just as Zady urged.
“I wish we could have been closer,” Marshall said. “I was pretty snobbish toward you.”
Nick had a confession to share. “Frankly, it was a good thing. Our competition inspired me to apply to medical school.”
“It did?” Judging by his startled expression, Marshall was receiving his second shock of the day.
“To prove that if you could do it, so could I,” Nick admitted. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
A faint smile appeared. “Glad to hear I was of some use.”
When the doors opened on an empty elevator, Nick seized the chance to pose another question troubling him. “If you don’t mind my asking, when did Zady tip you off about our plan to ambush Dr. Rayburn today?”
Marshall’s forehead furrowed. “She didn’t. Mark and Owen heard it from other sources. This hospital’s like a sieve.”
Had Nick misunderstood the man’s earlier statement? “You said it was a good thing Zady spoke up.”
“Oh, that,” Marshall said. “Last week, when she suggested we examine the logistics objectively, I realized I’d been overly territorial about office space.”
Zady had simply tried to help, and Nick had leaped to the conclusion that she’d been a traitor. How rude he’d been to her, and in front of Caleb! He should accompany Marshall to his office right now and apologize to her.
In fact, he had more than that to apologize for, he conceded as his anger toward her yielded to remorse. He’d piled an unfair amount of responsibility on Zady for disciplining his son, then blamed her for Caleb’s resentment. She deserved better—a lot better. But as he exited the elevator, his cell rang. If anything further had happened to Caleb...but the ID said Grandma Elaine. What did she want?
“I’d better take this.” As Marshall strode away, Nick moved into an alcove for privacy. “Hello, Elaine.”
“Actually, it’s Bennie.” The man hurried on. “We need to talk.”
“Sure.” Concern prompted Nick to ask, “How’s your health?”
“Better,” the older man said. “Listen, can you bring Caleb over? I’ve missed him and it’s wrong, what’s been going on.”
“Be glad to. What exactly is the situation?”
“It’s complicated and—” Bennie broke off. “Can’t talk now. Just come over, will you?”
“You bet.”
If there was trouble, perhaps Nick should leave Caleb in day care. But his son was desperate to see his grandparents.
Since Bennie had invited him, Nick decided to collect his son and head over there now. Urgent though it was, his apology to Zady would have to wait.
* * *
WHATEVER MEETING MARSHALL had attended left him unusually preoccupied that afternoon. Zady was always careful at work, but she made sure to be doubly prepared for each patient. To her boss’s credit, he treated everyone without errors or omissions, but she knew him well enough to observe that, in
spare moments, his mind drifted.
Meanwhile, her earlier interaction with Caleb and Nick festered. What had she done other than be the wrong person at the wrong time?
In a spare moment, Zady reviewed the list she’d jotted of essential qualities in a man. “Fresh start—no stepkids or ex-wives.” Too bad she’d ignored that one.
Number 2. Never mistreated or abandoned a girlfriend. Okay, she couldn’t fault Nick for whatever had gone wrong with Bethany, and as for Number 3, financial stability, he more or less qualified.
Number 4 hit her full-on. Doesn’t put me in the middle of family feuds. That crack describing her as untrustworthy must have resulted from something involving Marshall, Caleb or Elaine, although she had no idea what.
If only Zady had heeded her own cautions. Instead, she’d fallen heart-first in love with both the man and his son. They were the family she longed for—not some vague theoretical guy and future child but real individuals. Nick and Caleb Davis.
Into her mind flashed the scene at the day care center, the father holding the boy to his shoulder, their dark hair mingling. Both had been united in one wish: that Zady go away.
She hadn’t meant to upset the child, but as with Dwayne’s children, her presence had become destructive, good intentions notwithstanding. Caleb would be happier with a different sitter. Under other circumstances, Nick Davis might have been her Mr. Right, Zady thought sadly, and deleted the list. No sense saving warnings that had already failed to prevent the deepest sorrow of her life.
* * *
IN HIS BOOSTER SEAT behind Nick, Caleb vibrated with excitement as they passed the carriage-shaped mailbox. “Grandma! Grandpa!” he called as if they could hear him.
Had Nick been wrong to remove his son from the Carrigans’ home? But much of the boy’s distress was due to Elaine’s behavior, he reminded himself, and wondered again what Bennie had been implying.
Nick halted the car in front of the portico. A couple of potted plants, possibly suggested by the Realtor to brighten the exterior, drooped from lack of watering. Not the greatest way to impress would-be buyers, he reflected as he released his son’s seat belt.
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