His Hired Baby

by Jacqueline Diamond

  Outraged and embarrassed by Esther’s behavior, Tony struggled for self-control. Much as he might like to vent, the problem with being married to a shrewd attorney was that she could twist any action or statement to her advantage in court. And if he spoke too harshly, Esther might very well choose to rake him over the coals simply to prove that she could.

  What was she after, anyway? She hadn’t just dropped in to wish him a happy Thanksgiving.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked when they were alone. Not off to a fine start, are we?

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “As I recall, your last words to me were, ‘Get that loan, damn it, and don’t drag your feet.’”

  Esther tossed back her golden brown mane. “Do we have to conduct this conversation in the front hall?”

  “Pick any place you like.” How about the nursery, which you didn’t bother to fix up? With an effort, Tony ratcheted down his anger. “You should have let me know you were coming.”

  “I wasn’t sure about the timing. I had dinner with my parents and figured I’d stop by tomorrow. Then I went for a drive and swung by on impulse.” She wrinkled her nose at the dining room with its soiled tablecloth and napkins. “Dare I hope for coffee?”

  “In the kitchen.” He led the way.

  When she hesitated by the center island, her unaccustomed air of uncertainty recalled the young woman Tony had known in law school, before she’d become so full of herself. “I apologize for barging in. It didn’t occur to me you’d be entertaining. Then when I noticed the cars, I had to find out who was in my house.”

  Her house. Well, technically, he supposed it was. “Keep going.”

  “And I guess…” Uncharacteristically, she struggled for words. “When I left, I acted rashly. I was high-handed and arrogant and you have every right to feel betrayed. But I didn’t betray you, Tony. There’s no other man. You know that, right?”

  “Yes. You left me to run your own show, not grab on to someone more important.” He poured them each a cup of coffee from the steaming carafe. Other than that, he refused to fall into his usual pattern of playing diplomat.

  “You’ve certainly gotten cozy with the surrogate,” she added tightly.

  “Someone had to take over the role of birthing coach.” He set the cup in front of her.

  She didn’t respond directly. Instead, she asked, “Who were all those people?”

  “Friends.” Mine, not yours. “Let’s get back to the part about you acting arrogant.”

  She fiddled with a diamond drop earring. “It’s lonely in Washington. I wasn’t kidding when I said I miss you.”

  “There’s nobody staying up to ask how your court case went or whisking you to a resort for the weekend because you’re working so hard.” So much for reining in his resentment.

  “You’re still mad.”

  “Don’t be silly. A thirty-second apology wipes the slate clean.” Sarcasm felt a lot better than it ought to, Tony discovered. “Let me summarize. Once the initial fuss died down, you discovered you’re a small fish in an enormous pond filled with barracudas. You flew back expecting adulation and instead ate the usual bleak holiday meal with parents who can’t understand why you aren’t already running the government. When you stopped by your old house and saw a group of strangers having a terrific time, you couldn’t stand it.”

  “It’s not like that. I’ve been thinking this over for weeks.” Esther blinked rapidly. “I made a terrible mistake. You know me, Tony. I get excited when there’s something new on the horizon. Is that so terrible?”

  “To break your vows and violate my trust? But I guess our marriage wasn’t new and exciting enough.”

  “Hear me out.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “I never appreciated how much I relied on you to talk over cases and give feedback on my ideas. You’re my coach. It’s like that corny song—you’re the wind beneath my wings. It came on the radio the other day and I burst into tears. Me! Can you believe it?”

  The irony of her using the word coach hit hard, considering that she’d abandoned her own commitment to that role. And how doubly ironic that, in her absence he’d come to rely on Kate for feedback and reassurance. Still, his feelings weren’t the issue here—Kate’s were.

  “Some things,” he said with deceptive quiet, “aren’t about you, Esther. Do you have any idea what this pregnancy means to Kate and her family? She did this as a gift. Never mind the money—you can’t buy what she’s giving up. You whipped everyone into a frenzy because you wanted what you couldn’t have, and then you lost interest.”

  “And she’s cute and domestic and thinks you’re wonderful,” Esther finished for him. “She’s balm for your poor sore heart. I’m not angry that you’re a little bit infatuated. But we can start over. We’re good together. And we’re having a daughter. Isn’t that fantastic? What could be better than that?”

  Almost anything, Tony answered silently. When Esther first left, he’d hoped for a reconciliation. Now, after enduring weeks of her disdainful indifference, he no longer felt so much as a glimmer of love for her.

  More than that, he’d experienced how great it was to bounce his ideas off someone and benefit from her insights. To talk and listen and share, instead of always being consigned to the role of backup.

  But he had to be careful how he handled this. Esther’s mood could turn abruptly, and outright rejection might send her storming vengefully into court. He had to appear to consider her offer, even if that meant spending a few days attempting to work things out until, inevitably, she tired of cooperating and reverted to type.

  As for Kate, thank goodness they had a few more weeks before the baby came.

  “I DON’T TRUST those fetal monitors,” Irene told Kate as they watched the pattern of the baby’s heartbeat on the screen. “On TV, a doctor said they sometimes show problems that don’t really exist.”

  “I’d rather take no chances.” Kate swallowed hard, and wished for the umpteenth time that Tony were here.

  When she’d checked into the labor-and-delivery unit, the nurse had explained the policy of attaching a belt for about twenty minutes as a precaution to check on the fetal heart rate and contraction pattern. Usually, she’d told Kate and her mother, everything went fine and the belt came off.

  But everything wasn’t fine. She’d detected an anomaly, whatever that meant, and had ordered an ultrasound.

  Tara had to be okay. How could anything go wrong when the baby had passed every checkup with flying colors?

  If Tony were around, he’d go marching off in search of the doctor. Kate shuddered. Why did she have to go into labor on a holiday? She’d probably get whatever physician was on duty, possibly a resident.

  An aide rolled in an ultrasound device on a cart and left. “Well, guess I won’t be needing a refresher course in labor for Mary Beth’s baby,” Irene commented when they were alone. “Looks like I’m getting my practice today, unless Tony starts answering his phone.” She’d left a couple of messages.

  “You’re supposed to be her coach?”

  “Can’t count on Ray to be off duty, can we?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  A pinch of pain made Kate tense for another contraction, but she got a brief break. All the more time to wonder what Esther and Tony were discussing at such length. Oops. It was a contraction, and a big one. “Mom!”

  “Breathe,” her mother instructed. “Huff huff huff.”

  “It hurts!” She didn’t care if she sounded like an infant. At least she wasn’t screaming, right? On the other hand, the pain hadn’t progressed that far.

  “What have we here?” asked a deep masculine voice. “Didn’t I mention you’re not allowed to go into labor on a holiday?”

  “Dr. Rayburn!” Her straining muscles eased at the sight of the black-haired man with his distinctive thick eyebrows. “How come you’re working today?”

  “I can’t let my favorite patient down.” He positioned the ultrasound clo
ser and prepared the paddle.

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the women,” Irene teased.

  “Ah, this must be your sister,” he observed wryly, drawing a chuckle from his appreciative audience. “Pleased to meet you. Now let’s find out what this baby is up to.”

  He moved the paddle around Kate’s bulge. On the monitor, baby limbs went in and out of focus.

  “She’s okay, isn’t she?” Kate asked anxiously.

  “Lively and impatient to come out,” the obstetrician assured her. “Where’s Tony? That rogue’s supposed to be helping you.”

  “Esther showed up at the last minute,” she told him. “They’re…talking.”

  Instead of responding, he peered at the screen. “We may have a bit of a situation here.”

  Kate tried to form a question, but her throat had gone dry. She’d never imagined anything going wrong with this birth. Somehow, being a surrogate seemed like enough of complication.

  “Don’t keep us in suspense.” Irene’s voice trembled.

  The doctor indicated a ropelike shape. “I don’t like the position of the umbilical cord. There’s no immediate danger, but I’ve seen this turn into what we call a cord prolapse. That’s when the cord gets trapped as the baby tries to come out, and the pressure reduces or cuts off the oxygen and blood supply.”

  “That’s serious, isn’t it?” Kate said. “If the baby lost oxygen for long, the results could be devastating.

  “Some doctors will try to reduce the pressure on the cord and deliver vaginally right away.” Dr. Rayburn moved the paddle to a different angle, but apparently saw nothing to change his opinion. “I consider that an unnecessary risk. I recommend that we proceed with a cesarean section before the need becomes urgent. After all, your baby’s ready to meet the world. What do you say?”

  A C-section. Major surgery. Scary, but she trusted Dr. Rayburn. “Yes, if you recommend it. Mom, would you call Tony again?”

  “I hate leaving you to go all the way to the lobby,” her mother said. Signs warned against using cell phones near monitoring equipment.

  “You can call from the patient lounge on this floor.” The doctor pointed the way.

  After her mother stepped out, Kate blurted the first question that occurred to her. “Am I going to have a big scar across my stomach?”

  Dr. Rayburn wiped gel from her abdomen. “Since this isn’t an emergency, I can make a transverse cut. You might have heard that referred to as a bikini cut. You’ll hardly be able to see it.”

  That was reassuring. “Can my birth coach be there during the operation?”

  “Absolutely. He or she can hold your hand. And you’ll be awake when the baby’s born, so you won’t miss a thing.” She’d have to spend an extra few days in the hospital, he added, and take it easy at home for a couple of weeks.

  Once Kate ran out of questions, Dr. Rayburn repeated that the baby was fine. He asked a nurse to prep her and called for an anesthesiologist.

  Irene returned with the news that she’d left yet another message for Tony. “He’s still not answering.”

  Kate had never considered the possibility of being unable to reach him when she gave birth. “Try again in a few minutes, will you?”

  “Sure will.” Irene patted her hand. “Women have these operations all the time. Aren’t you lucky your own doctor’s available on Thanksgiving?”

  “Yes. Very lucky.”

  The minutes ticked by. Kate signed permission forms, and the anesthesiologist took notes about how much she’d eaten, and the nurses hooked her to an IV.

  Tony failed to answer his phone yet again, and again Irene left a message. Kate found herself on a gurney being wheeled to the operating room, with still no sign of him.

  Tara’s father. The man she loved. Her partner for at least one more precious day.

  Why wasn’t he here when she needed him most?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Esther seemed delighted to be back in the house. With the same energy that had propelled her through sixteen-hour days and back-to-back court cases, she roamed the premises as if reclaiming them.

  “The fireplace is splendid. How come we hardly ever used it?” she asked, picking up a few overlooked plates on the patio.

  “Because we hardly ever entertained.” From inside the house, Tony heard the phone ring. For once, he didn’t care if the hospital required his services. Whoever it was would have to wait.

  “Maybe we could rent out this place instead of selling,” she said. “That way, we could afford a nice apartment in D.C. and still come back here if we ever decided to.”

  “You expect me to move to Washington?” She hadn’t mentioned that.

  Esther marched inside and piled the dishes on the counter. “If a man gets a big break in another city, everyone expects his wife to accompany him.”

  Tony clenched his teeth with an effort. “And had you brought this up in the first place, I’d have been happy to consider it. Instead, you waved goodbye on your way to the airport. Now you return to scoop me up like a piece of luggage you forgot.”

  “Would you stop throwing the past at me? I said I was sorry.” She dusted off her hands. “What have you done with the nursery? I’m dying to see it.”

  “Why? You don’t plan to live here,” he pointed out.

  “We can always ship the pieces east.”

  “Why?” he repeated. “You don’t really want a child.”

  “That’s unfair! I love children.”

  “Do I have to quote what you said about it being my DNA?”

  Esther gave a dismissive wave. “That’s when I believed we were having a boy, but this is much better. I can buy her clothes, and when she grows up, we’ll be best friends.”

  Was the woman hallucinating? “You skipped something. Like her childhood.”

  “Of course I’ll play with her! I deserve a baby.”

  “In your position, when will you find time to play?” he demanded. “And you got it backwards. A mother doesn’t deserve a baby, a baby deserves a mother.”

  “In D.C., everybody has a nanny. We’ll do fine. Anyway, when did you become an expert on child rearing?”

  Tony stared at her in dismay. “Quit trying to score points, Esther. We aren’t arguing a court case. We’re deciding a child’s future.”

  Her foot tapped impatiently against the tile floor. “Come on. Where’s the old Tony? We used to be a team.”

  “That’s what I thought, too.” He couldn’t hold back any longer. “I assumed we were building a future together. It didn’t matter to me which of us led or which followed. I figured that, over a lifetime, we’d swap roles whenever it made sense. But there was no team, except in my imagination.”

  Esther began to pace. “I’ve never been romantic, Tony. For both our sakes, I wish I were. I shouldn’t have walked out. That was stupid. I’m lonely, damn it. There’s no reason a woman can’t have everything. There’s no reason we both can’t have everything. Bring the baby, come back with me and I’ll prove it.”

  Behind her, the remains of the feast littered the kitchen where, long ago, he’d pictured the two of them cooking side by side, creating a home. But it wasn’t his wife who’d shared that dream today. It was Kate.

  The phone rang again. He ignored it. They needed to play this out, here and now.

  He had to call Esther’s bluff. “Here’s the deal. Quit your job, come home and show a commitment to our marriage and our child. Honor your promises. To me, to the baby, to your best friend, who needs your support right now. For once in your life, be there for other people. A year from now, once we’ve established a real marriage, I’ll be willing to consider moving to Washington or wherever you like.”

  Esther regarded him as if she’d never truly seen him before. What was she thinking?

  And what if she said yes?

  IN THE OPERATING ROOM, the nurses set up a screen that prevented Kate from seeing the doctor at work. If she chose to look, a mirror behind him would allow her to see t
he baby come out.

  The anesthetic injected into her spine gave her cold chills. She’d been instructed to hold as still as possible, but she couldn’t stop trembling. At least they’d put something in the IV that stopped the contractions and clapped an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth to ensure she took in enough air for the baby.

  As Dr. Rayburn began his incision, Irene, covered in scrubs and cap, tried to distract Kate by recounting her last phone conversation with Mary Beth. “The boys are all excited. She was careful to tell them that you’re having the baby for Tony, so they won’t expect you to bring her home. They insist on seeing her, though, so Mary Beth plans to sneak them into the hospital tomorrow to look in the nursery. It can’t hurt, can it? They’ll get to see the baby once, anyway.”

  Maybe I can, too, Kate realized with a spurt of hope. All these months, she’d tried to prepare for the moment when the nurses would hand the baby to the Francos. From the first, Esther had suggested it would be best if she didn’t snuggle with the little one, and Kate—not yet pregnant, and thrilled by the idea of sharing a miracle with this nice couple—had agreed.

  She must have been out of her mind.

  What a paradox. She longed to see Tony, and yet a small part of her rejoiced that, in his absence, she might be able to hold Tara. For a few precious moments, she could see the small angel that she’d been carrying.

  Then she heard a familiar male voice say, “No, I’m not her husband, I’m the baby’s father.” Her heart leaped. In spite of everything, she longed for Tony’s strength.

  “Let him in,” Dr. Rayburn instructed whoever was blocking Tony’s path. “I’ll vouch for him.”

  A moment later, brilliant green eyes peered into Kate’s. The cap covering his hair emphasized the strong line of Tony’s jaw, with a hint of late-day stubble. “How’re you doing?” He touched her cheek lightly. “Can’t talk, huh? Guess I can make jokes at your expense, then.”

  “If you make my patient laugh, I’ll throw you out,” the doctor threatened.