The Baby Doctor

by Bobby Hutchinson

  When Luke and Sophie first walked through the front door, Morgan felt a burst of total panic. It was obvious from Sophie’s sullen face and Luke’s set jaw that father and daughter weren’t on the best of terms, and India had managed to make Tessa furious by criticizing the noodle casserole the girl was so proud of. It looked as if the evening was going to be a disaster, and Morgan’s fears intensified when Luke introduced his daughter.

  “I’m delighted to meet you, Sophie.” Morgan took the girl’s hand in both her own and smiled in welcome.

  Sophie gave her a suspicious, narrow eyed look and jerked her hand away.

  With the animals, however, she was entirely different. She got down on her hands and knees on the rug and greeted each dog with a hug as Tess gave her a rundown on their personalities and peculiar traits. She actually giggled when Skippy lay down on his back and waved his legs in the air in a fit of his usual dementia.

  Once the initial awkwardness was over, Luke was soon smiling, as well. In fact, Morgan was amazed to hear him laugh aloud several times at things India said to him. Morgan had forgotten the way her mother turned on her charm the moment a handsome male was around.

  India had complained nonstop since the moment Morgan walked in the door a scant hour ago. Now, she was suddenly smiling and full of gracious compliments and flirtatious glances as she allowed Luke to pour her a glass of wine from the bottle he’d brought.

  The two of them settled on the sofa while Morgan went out to the kitchen to help put the finishing touches on the simple meal Tessa had prepared.

  “Can I help you, Tess?” Sophie had followed Tessa to the kitchen and was studiously ignoring Morgan.

  “Sure. You can wash the lettuce for the salad. You like to cook, Soph?” Tessa was removing her noodle casserole from the oven, oven mitts on her hands and a concentrated expression on her face.

  “I’ve never tried, really. Eileen, that’s Daddy’s housekeeper, doesn’t like for me to be in the kitchen.” There was no mistaking the antipathy in Sophie’s tone when she said Eileen’s name. “She says I make too much of a mess.”

  “Morgan says messes are just part of cooking, right, Morgan?” Tessa was clearly showing off, arranging snips of parsley as decoration on the top of the noodles with all the finesse of a master chef. “You should taste these chocolate-chip cookies I make from Morgan’s secret recipe. You put in candy and it melts and goes all gooey. I was gonna make ’em tonight but I didn’t have time.”

  Morgan knew why. Tess had told her the moment she came home from school she’d been railroaded by India into taking all her luggage up to her room, helping her unpack, finding her extra hangers, even clearing shelves in both bathrooms for India’s copious cosmetics. On top of that, India had tried to force Tess to trade bedrooms with her.

  “She thinks I’m a maid or something,” Tess had whispered with tears of anger and frustration in her eyes, and Morgan had wanted to strangle her mother before she’d even said ten words to her.

  “I’ll set her straight,” Morgan had promised, embarrassed and furious.

  “Why don’t the two of you make up a batch of those cookies after supper,” Morgan suggested now to the girls. “They don’t take long.”

  Sophie forgot to be aloof. “All right. Could we really?”

  “Sure.” Tessa grinned at her. “We got all the stuff, it’ll be fun.”

  “Super,” Sophie breathed, as if making cookies was a major event in her life. “I used to do that with my mom before she died,” She glanced at Morgan. “She was such a great cook, my mom. She used to make this apple pie you cook in a paper bag. It was awesome! My dad used to say she was the best cook in the world. And birthday cakes, she made me one once that had a castle on top, with a princess in a tower and all these turrets and things. And she was really tall and pretty, my mom. She could play the piano.”

  Morgan listened, nodded and smiled, and it dawned on her that Sophie was listing her mother’s talents for her benefit. The girl obviously knew there was something between Morgan and her father and was making it plain she wasn’t happy about it, Morgan deduced.

  So for the rest of the evening, Morgan used every ounce of her warmth and charm in an all out effort to win Sophie’s trust and friendship.

  If she could avoid it, she wasn’t going to be the source of any more conflict between Luke and his daughter.

  Chapter Twelve

  “That was a pleasant evening.” Luke pulled the car to a stop at a light and glanced at his daughter. She hadn’t said anything since they’d left Morgan’s a few moments before, but she seemed less guarded than usual. “You and Tessa get on very well.”

  “Yeah. She’s okay.” Sophie’s tone was neutral and cool, but at least they were having some semblance of a conversation, and Luke was grateful not to have his head bitten off.

  Privately, he had a lot of reservations about Tessa. He remembered all too clearly the evidence of physical violence on her body when her baby was born and Morgan’s disturbing assessment of Dylan, the baby’s father. The last thing Luke wanted was his daughter involved with members of a street gang, but he had enough sense to know that this wasn’t the time for cautionary lectures.

  “I liked those cookies you girls made. Maybe you could make us a batch at home.”

  “Humph. That’d be the day.” Tessa’s voice was scathing. “Eileen would never let me. You know what she’s like about the kitchen. She thinks it’s a hospital or something.”

  “From what I know of hospitals, Eileen’s way off base if she figures they’re a standard for cleanliness.” It was a lame joke at best, but it felt good when she smiled. It encouraged Luke to say something he’d been thinking of broaching with her. “You don’t like Eileen much, do you, Soph?”

  She was silent but she shook her head from side to side with vehemence, and her expression said more than words would have.

  “Well, maybe we ought to let her go and find a housekeeper we both get along with,” he ventured. It had been on his mind ever since Morgan had suggested it.

  Sophie’s head pivoted toward him. “Oh, Daddy, could we really?” Her voice was filled with such longing that Luke made up his mind then and there.

  “I’ll give her notice tomorrow morning. But this time I want you to do the interviewing and the hiring.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Oh, Daddy, thank you.” Sophie reached over and touched his arm, and he silently sent Morgan a huge thank you. Then he took a deep breath and dared to add, “And if you still are determined to have your baby, you ought to think of hiring someone who’s a bit more flexible than Eileen, someone you feel comfortable talking with.”

  “I will, because I’m keeping it.” Sophie’s voice was both fervent and defiant, but when Luke didn’t object, she added in a shy tone that made his heart swell, “I think babies are pretty messy, so we’ll need somebody really easy going. And, Daddy?”

  “What, Soph?” It was the best conversation they’d had in months, and he felt warm inside and eager for it to continue.

  “I’m changing doctors.” Again there was defiance in her voice. “That lady you sent me to is okay, I guess, but I decided tonight I want Morgan to deliver my baby. I really like Morgan."

  He did, too, far more than Sophie knew, but the thought of her becoming so intimately involved with his daughter was disconcerting. He’d planned to keep Morgan as separate as possible from the rest of his life, and somehow it wasn’t working. Dinner tonight had been pleasant, but it had brought complications, just as he’d feared it might.

  “If that’s what you want. I’ll speak to her about it”

  “I’m perfectly capable of speaking to her about it myself, Daddy.” The frostiness was back in Sophie’s voice. Luke sighed and they made the rest of the trip in silence, but for the first time in weeks he didn’t have the painful feeling that his daughter totally despised him, even though she was still deeply angry with him.

  He thought a
bout what Morgan had said about anger, that it was often a cover for sadness.

  If that was so, then Sophie had good reason for her anger. She wasn’t having a carefree adolescence by any means, poor kid. He vowed he’d somehow learn how to be a better father to her.

  And what about his own anger, the rage he felt toward Jason, the cold fury that came over him whenever he thought about Deborah?

  Strangely enough, the intensity of those emotions wasn’t constant anymore. There had even been moments tonight when he’d felt light hearted and happy.

  He didn’t admit that those moments had a lot to do with Morgan.

  When India and Tessa were in bed that night and the kitchen was more or less tidy, Morgan sat down in front of the fireplace with the lights out, Major at her feet and the kitten in a warm, furry mound on her lap. For some inexplicable reason, Skippy had followed India upstairs.

  Morgan stared into the flames and wondered why the evening had left her feeling so grumpy. It had actually gone much better than it might have, she reminded herself. Tessa had glowed when Luke complimented her on the casserole. India had outdone herself in her role of femme fatale. The girls had enjoyed making cookies, and Sophie had actually giggled with pleasure when Luke bit into one and pretended to swoon. Then she’d chatted with Morgan, and when they were alone in the kitchen, confided that her baby had moved for the first time.

  Everyone laughed when Major, for some obscure reason of his own, tried to climb into Luke’s lap. Luke and Sophie had seemed much more relaxed with each other by the time they left, and Luke had given Morgan a secret, lewd wink that made her heart hammer just before he followed Sophie out to his car.

  Apart from that one gesture, there hadn’t been a single other opportunity for a private word or an intimate moment between them, but Morgan hadn’t expected one anyway, not with the girls and India present.

  India. Morgan scowled and banged her empty cup down on the arm of the chair, sloshing coffee grounds on the already stained upholstery. India drove her nuts. Her mother was the sore spot, Morgan admitted, the reason she felt cranky and out of sorts.

  It was embarrassing to have to admit even to herself, but she was a little jealous of the courtly attention Luke had paid India tonight, disgruntled by the way the two of them seemed to get along so well and find things to talk about. She and her mother had never had anything in common, apart from the accident of birth, so it was disconcerting for Morgan to acknowledge that Luke seemed to have found India entertaining and interesting.

  The simple fact was, Morgan resented having her mother intrude in her life this way. Her life was her creation, she mused bitterly. It had taken enormous dedication and backbreaking work to get to where she was, with a steady job she adored, earning her a good income, a home of her own, beloved pets, a foster daughter she cherished. For the first time in her life, she had a measure of self-confidence, a sense of her own worth. Even, miraculously, a man she cared for, and although she reminded herself that was only temporary, she wanted to enjoy every minute with Luke while it lasted.

  Until now, India had never once made an effort to be part of Morgan’s life. Her own life had always been much too important to her. In all the years Morgan had been in Canada, India had never before made the effort to come and visit, even missing Morgan’s graduation from med school. Her mother had been holidaying with a friend in Mexico.

  So the big question was, why on earth had she turned up here now? And why the heck was she being so vague about the length of her stay? Morgan knew her mother well enough to know that India never did anything unless there was an advantage in it for her.

  Well, there was no point sitting up half the night worrying about it, because undoubtedly she’d find out sooner or later. Yawning, Morgan made certain the screen was in front of the fire and encouraged Major to go out before bed.

  Tomorrow was going to be another busy day, which she always enjoyed, and there was the added pleasure of knowing she’d talk to Luke.

  Thinking of him and wishing he was there in her bed, she trailed up the stairs.

  “Morgan?” Luke’s voice was warm and intimate in her ear. It was late the following afternoon, and she realized that some tiny part of her had been waiting all day to hear from him.

  “If you’re done seeing patients, how about coming for a ride with me? There’s something I want to show you. I could pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

  She thought of India waiting at home with a list of the day's complaints and expecting someone to make her a meal. There’d be just the two of them, Morgan thought with dread. Tessa was working on the stage set at the church, and she’d called to say she was having a burger with some friends.

  “Fifteen minutes is fine,” she said into the receiver. She’d call her mother and tell her to open a can of soup or something, and she would not feel guilty about it.

  When Luke’s car stopped at the curb outside the clinic, Morgan was waiting on the sidewalk, anticipation swelling inside her. She had a hunch he’d solved their problem.

  “Isn’t it a great afternoon?” Motor running, Luke reached across and opened the passenger door and she got in. The next thing she knew, he’d slid an arm around her and pulled her as close as he could, considering the gear shift. He pressed a quick and urgent kiss on her mouth. His good humor seemed to envelop her in warmth.

  He was smiling when he let her go, and she realized he was dressed more casually than she’d ever seen him, in a pair of jeans that molded his lean hips and powerful thighs, and a navy sweater underneath a brown leather jacket She looked at his hands on the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb. They were large hands, strong and shapely, long fingered and graceful, and all she could think of was how they’d feel on her body.

  Get a grip, Jacobsen. You’re turning into a lecherous woman here.

  Luke stepped hard on the gas, sending the powerful little car shooting into the heavy stream of traffic. He wondered how to tell her his news and then decided to just say it. After all, it had been her idea, in a way.

  “Morgan, I’ve subleased a houseboat. It’s permanently moored in False Creek. I saw it on the electronic bulletin board at the hospital. It belongs to one of the surgeons, but he and his wife are going off to work for UNICEF for two years. They used it as a weekend hideaway, and it’s fully furnished, linens, dishes, everything. He was anxious to get it rented because they’re leaving next week, so we slipped off to the real estate office and signed the papers an hour ago.”

  Feeling elated and very pleased with himself, he slid between a bus and a taxi and then sped up to make it through a yellow light. “I confess I haven’t actually seen it yet myself. I hope it’s as good as advertised.”

  He glanced over at her, and the hunger he felt was urgent. He noted the high color in her cheeks and the way the long green sweater she wore clung to her full breasts. Green was a good color for her.

  His voice dropped to an intimate level. “The truth is, I wanted you with me. I picked up some supplies, and I thought we’d have a picnic onboard.’’

  He took an off-ramp from the bridge and wound rapidly down the streets that led to False Creek, pulling into the parking area with a flourish.

  “The boats are parked just along the quay. We’re number 612.”

  He bolted out of the car and hurried around to open Morgan’s door. The winter sun was just going down over the North Shore mountains, and the air was cold and bracing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so full of excitement and anticipation.

  Morgan was being uncharacteristically quiet, Luke noted as he set the bags of food on the counter in the houseboat’s tiny kitchen and opened the cupboard doors one after the other looking for glasses in which to serve the wine. She’d barely said two words since he’d picked her up.

  She was standing by the windows, staring out at the scene of water and mountains that the wraparound view provided.

  “There’s more space in one of these than you’d think,” she co
mmented as he finally found wineglasses in a cupboard tucked away above the compact refrigerator.

  “Isn’t it fine? I’ve always fantasized about living on a houseboat,” he confessed. He uncorked the wine and poured it, then walked over to her and handed her the glass, but he didn’t relinquish it when she reached for it. He held on, forcing her to look up at him.

  “Morgan,” he said in a quiet voice. “Have I gone too quickly here? Am I making you feel uncomfortable or pressured? Because that wasn’t my intention, my dear. I simply thought we could have a pleasant few hours in a private place. We’re surrounded by people so much of the time, I’d like for us to be alone together for a change.”

  She nodded, and he added in a much lighter tone, “Now, I missed lunch and I’m bloody starving. How about you?”

  It was exactly the right note, deflecting the tension that had sprung up between them. She relaxed all of a sudden and grinned at him. “I’m always starving. What’d you bring?” She moved over to the counter aid poked into the bags. She found plates and bowls and arranged the food, setting it out on the table.

  He liked the way she ate, with gusto and honest hunger and no irritating remarks about fat content or calories or the need for dieting. He thought wistfully of Sophie, wishing she’d eat the way Morgan did.

  Luke thanked her for having him and Sophie over, and he talked about a mystery he was reading, a spy movie he wanted to see, a patient who’d been referred. They finished the lunch, and he found a coffeepot and brewed some of the special blend he’d bought. Then they took cookies and coffee over to the soft, mouse-colored couch.

  “Mmm. This is heaven.” Morgan drew her legs up under her and bit into her cookie with the greedy relish that delighted him. She looked like a sexy elf in her leggings and sweater, and once again the unbridled hunger, the need he felt for her, was urgent and intense, but he didn’t dare draw her into his arms the way he longed to do. He’d decided to go slowly, taking his cues from her, but damn it all, it was difficult. All he could think of was the bed in the back room.