The Would-Be Mommy

by Jacqueline Diamond

  From jaded to sentimental. That had been a fast transition.

  Well, Viktor had urged him to follow up the baby story. Easy enough, since Anaheim lay more than halfway between L.A. and Safe Harbor. But he had no intention of encroaching on Jennifer’s privacy.

  He recalled the angle he’d contemplated last night. A giant corporation buys a community hospital and turns it into a moneymaking machine. That’s got to rub somebody the wrong way. That somebody was the chief of pediatrics, unless he missed his guess.

  Perhaps Dr. Forrest was on-site today. Worth a visit. If he didn’t find her, he might luck into another staffer with a beef.

  And if he happened to run into Jennifer, that would be even luckier. Because no matter how many arguments Ian mustered against seeing her again, his spirits leaped at the prospect.

  ON THE FIFTH FLOOR, Jennifer and Samantha found Dr. Rayburn pacing the hall outside the administrative offices. His polo shirt and jeans testified to the fact that he’d rushed to the hospital on his day off.

  “One of the moms is still in Tony Franco’s office, signing paperwork,” he informed them.

  “Where are the babies?” Samantha asked.

  “In the nursery. We’ll keep them for the weekend. The corporation’s not happy about providing unreimbursed services, but what else can we do?” The administrator didn’t seem to expect a response. “Let’s hope this whole thing blows over fast. Most hospitals don’t receive more than one or two safe haven babies a month.”

  “That isn’t the real problem,” the pediatrician snapped. “It’s these young women who didn’t receive proper care in the first place. How many of them even saw a doctor or received any counseling during their pregnancies?”

  “You can’t hold me responsible for that!” Mark growled. “For heaven’s sake, Sam, don’t start on one of your social justice crusades.”

  “What better time?” she retorted.

  Samantha had been grumbling about the hospital’s official reopening for weeks, and Jennifer knew Mark felt pressure from higher-ups to keep everything running smoothly. Still, she’d never before seen them argue openly.

  “The tension’s getting to all of us,” Jennifer said. “Let’s focus on the problem at hand, okay?”

  For a moment, her friend seemed on the verge of disagreeing. Then she shrugged. “You’re right. I’ll go take a look at those newborns.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” Mark watched his fiery critic march down the hall. “I admire her principles, but we have to watch the bottom line. Too many hospitals are closing for lack of money. That doesn’t serve the community, either.”

  Jennifer had no intention of taking sides. “Have you heard from the press?” she asked.

  “The local paper inquired about you and Rosalie. I said you weren’t giving interviews.” Distractedly, the doctor reached up to loosen his tie and then apparently realized he wasn’t wearing one. “As far as I can tell, nobody’s gotten word of today’s relinquishments, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “If it comes up, I think our response should be that almost all hospitals, fire departments and police stations accept these babies,” Jennifer said. “There’s nothing unusual here.”

  “Do you think you should put out a press release?”

  “Let’s not go looking for trouble,” she advised.

  “Good point.”

  Down the corridor, a door opened and Tony emerged with a chubby young woman. As with Mark, his jeans and plaid shirt formed a stark contrast to his usual buttoned-down appearance.

  “Thank you for signing the papers,” he told his companion. “You have fourteen days to change your mind. If you decide you want to keep your baby, please call the number on my card.”

  “I can’t. Sorry. Please find someone to love him.” Head lowered, she hurried away.

  Jennifer’s chest ached. What circumstances had forced the girl into this? she wondered.

  “What about the other two moms?” the administrator asked. “Have they completed the formalities?”

  “Sure did. I gave them a few bucks to buy lunch at the cafeteria,” the attorney said. “Funny thing. They’re cousins. They’d been covering for each other with their relatives and, if you can believe it, delivered each other’s babies less than a day apart.”

  That distressed Jennifer. “Why didn’t they come here to deliver?” The hospital treated indigent patients without charge.

  “Cultural issues, I guess,” Tony said. “They were thinking of leaving the babies on someone’s doorstep until they saw the story about you and Rosalie. Good work.”

  Publicity did have its merits. “That was fortunate.”

  “I hope you referred them to a clinic to get birth control so this doesn’t happen again. Heck, I’d be glad to see them myself.” Mark was still a practicing obstetrician in addition to his administrative duties.

  “Gave them a whole packet of referrals.” Tony didn’t sound optimistic, though.

  Based on her own experiences years ago, Jennifer, too, doubted they’d seek counseling. Telling anyone about her situation had been the furthest thing from her mind. Besides, finding a low-cost or free counselor wasn’t exactly easy these days.

  Mark glanced at her. “Sorry for calling you in. It doesn’t appear that we’ll need your services after all.”

  “I’m glad you did. It’s important to keep me in the loop.” She much preferred staying abreast of developments to learning about them after the fact.

  The attorney lingered in the hallway. “If you don’t mind my asking, who’s minding the baby?”

  “Lori Ross. She was with me when I got the call,” Jennifer said. “Why?”

  He ducked his head. “You may have heard that Esther and I are going to be parents. It’s hard to get my head around it, to tell you the truth. Since a nanny can’t be around 24/7, I wondered how parents cope in emergencies.”

  He was just considering that now? Although Tony had always struck her as likable, clearly he hadn’t taken his responsibilities as a father seriously enough. “You should arrange for backup, perhaps a friend or relative. Besides, once you fall in love with your child, you might not want a nanny around so much, anyway.”

  He blinked in surprise. “It’s a boy. I pictured us playing ball, doing guy stuff like that when he’s older. Hadn’t thought much about the baby stage.”

  Had he assumed Esther would turn into a doting mom? It wasn’t her place to lecture the attorney, however, so Jennifer excused herself and took the elevator downstairs.

  In the lobby, a small family sat huddled silently on a pair of couches, perhaps awaiting the results of a loved one’s surgery. The only other occupants she saw were a couple talking earnestly at one side.

  Her throat clamped as, from this three-quarters angle, she recognized the man as Ian. In a dark blue sweater over an open-collared shirt, he looked appealingly rumpled. As for the woman, wavy blond hair secured in a ponytail identified her immediately as Samantha.

  Surely her friend had better judgment than to expose the hospital and those young mothers to the glare of publicity. But if they weren’t discussing this morning’s relinquishments, why was Ian listening so intently?

  Jennifer struggled to maintain professional composure as she sauntered over. When Ian spotted her, the welcome curve of his mouth warmed her.

  Don’t be a fool. He didn’t come here to see you.

  “Good morning, Mr. Martin.” She narrowed her eyes warningly at Samantha. For heaven’s sake, the pediatrician ought to know how much was at stake. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Dr. Forrest has been explaining about the local shortage of services for poor women.” He didn’t sound terribly keen on the subject. Good.

  “The press always focuses on the sensational,” Samantha complained. “The public ought to pay attention to things that matter.”

  “If they did that, I’d be out of a job.” Ian grinned. “Actually, that’s not true. I prefer gritty stories to—no offense, Jennif
er—fluffy public relations.”

  “Fluffy? Like fertility treatments that create families?” She broke off. No sense in jumping on her bandwagon with Ian. “What brings you here today?”

  “Snooping,” he said flatly. “Speaking of which, where’s Rosalie?”

  “With a friend. An R.N.,” she added, in case he planned to put the information into a story.

  “Heard from her birth mother?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Well, it’s been interesting, ladies.” He clicked off the digital recorder he’d set on a low table.

  “Are you aware that this hospital closed its low-cost family clinic?” Clearly unwilling to let him go, Samantha returned doggedly to her theme. “The community used to depend on us, back when we were designated not-for-profit.”

  Jennifer felt obligated to provide the opposing viewpoint. “Unfortunately, for a lot of hospitals, not-for-profit too often translates as broke.”

  Then, beyond Ian, she spotted two girls emerging from the cafeteria. Loose dresses failed to hide figures still bloated from pregnancy.

  These must be the cousins. If Ian got hold of that item, it was exactly the type of gossipy item to draw tons of attention—the wrong sort.

  Samantha was frowning in the girls’ direction. “Speaking of young women we should be helping, take those—”

  Jennifer had to distract Ian fast. “You came for a follow-up, right?” she blurted.

  He focused on her. “Sure.”

  She rushed on, ignoring Samantha’s blink of annoyance. “How about spending the day observing Rosalie and me?” That would get him out of the hospital, at least.

  He regarded her with a twist of friendly skepticism. “I thought you were concerned about your privacy.”

  She had to answer before Samantha got a word in edgewise. “I’m more concerned about Rosalie’s birth mother and her future adoptive parents, whoever they may be.” She rested a hand lightly on Samantha’s shoulder. “It’s their privacy we need to protect.”

  Her friend’s taut muscles yielded. “That’s true.”

  “I still don’t get why you’re willing to talk to me,” Ian said.

  “I’m offering you the story you came for. That’s my job.”

  He studied her dubiously. “Or you’re trying to distract me. I’d like to hear what Dr. Forrest was about to say.”

  “Dr. Forrest is finished talking.” Samantha rose. “I tend to run at the mouth when I get on my soapbox.”

  Outside Ian’s range of vision, the cousins paused at a gift kiosk to examine a display of teddy bears. Would they never leave?

  “Of course, if you aren’t interested in Rosalie, we’re done here,” Jennifer told him. “Nice seeing you again.”

  “Whoa.” On his feet, he said, “So you simply decided to cooperate with me? Hard to buy, Jennifer.”

  “We’ve had a lot of reporters inquiring about Rosalie.” Slight exaggeration. “One way or the other, we’ll have to satisfy the public’s curiosity, and it’s safer for her to be around a single reporter. You’re the lucky designee.” Gripping her purse strap, she awaited Ian’s response.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “I can stick around all day? Take pictures?”

  “Within reason. I don’t want my every comment splashed across the Web.”

  “I’ll be discreet.”

  Their gazes locked. In Ian’s half-joking expression, she saw both appeal and danger. But at least she’d achieved her goal—the young mothers were disappearing through the front exit.

  “When do we start?” he asked.

  Before she could answer, she noticed Tony and Mark across the room. “We start with me getting my boss’s approval.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  “Great.” Jennifer went to explain the situation. She was careful to avoid laying any blame on Samantha.

  “You’re sure you’re okay having that man hanging around your place?” the administrator asked.

  “We don’t want to put you in any uncomfortable circumstances, being alone with this guy,” Tony added.

  “He seems pleasant enough. We had a nice chat after the opening.” No reason to mention that it had involved a late-night drink at her kitchen table.

  Mark gave his consent and wished her a good weekend. As the men departed, Jennifer braced herself. She’d been so intent on running damage control that she hadn’t fully considered what lay ahead—a whole afternoon of keeping up her guard

  Exactly how discreet could she expect Ian to be? Jennifer had no illusions about how easily a misstep might be magnified in print or in a photo.

  Her phone rang. Please, not more reporters, she thought, and then she saw the display. “Lori? I’m nearly done here,” she answered as she crossed the lobby.

  “It’s the baby,” her friend said breathlessly. “She’s fussy and she feels hot. I’m afraid she’s coming down with something.”

  Everything else vanished from Jennifer’s mind. “Let me grab Samantha.” Praying that the problem wasn’t serious, she hurried to explain and hand over her phone.

  The pediatrician asked Lori a few questions. “We’ll be right there,” she concluded. To Jennifer and Ian, she said, “It doesn’t sound serious, but any elevated temperature in a newborn should be checked.”

  Jennifer folded away the phone. “Let’s get moving.”

  “Shall I follow in my car?” Ian asked.

  Oh, heavens, she’d given him permission to tag along without considering that something might go amiss. Too late to back out now.

  “Whatever,” Jennifer replied. “Let’s go.”

  “You’re really worried.”

  “Of course! She’s my…” She’d almost said “daughter.” “My responsibility. Now, let’s hurry,” she concluded, and led the others on a dash to the parking structure.

  Suddenly, spending a day under Ian’s scrutiny didn’t seem important at all. The only thing that mattered was the baby.

  Chapter Six

  Ian knew when a source was holding out on him. Jennifer had offered herself as a subject because she feared the pediatrician might spill something sensitive. Of course, it might be nothing more than a few uncharitable remarks about the administration, but he’d like to be sure.

  Pleased as he was at the chance to follow up on the baby story, he still meant to keep his eyes open this weekend. His promise to be discreet applied to embarrassing personal stuff, not to revelations regarding the hospital.

  In all honesty, though, his interest wasn’t entirely professional. When he’d glimpsed Jennifer in the lobby, the lilt of her movements had made him forget, just for a second, why he was there.

  Spending the day with her would be a pleasure. And he hoped she might enjoy his company, too.

  In his rented car, Ian followed Jennifer’s sedan to an apartment building half a block past her condo. Cozy, the way these women lived practically on top of one another.

  Ian recalled reading somewhere that cities were a series of interlocking small towns consisting of neighborhoods, extended families, friendship groups and coworkers. Sounded reasonable, although outside his personal experience. Aside from a few friends scattered around the globe, his only meaningful connections were with Anni and Viktor and with his parents. They’d retired to the Indian city of Amritsar, which they’d fallen in love with while visiting the Golden Temple.

  Like them, Ian adapted easily to new locales. Yet as he trailed Jennifer and Samantha up an exterior staircase, he felt as if he were about to be admitted to a truly exotic realm: the private world of a group of women.

  The door opened on a rumpled apartment. A blanket lay spread on the couch, where pillows hedged in the baby. On the floor, clean, folded laundry filled a basket, while the floral scents of household products perfumed the air.

  An irritable cry arose from the sofa. Restless motions threatened to kick aside the baby’s coverings.

  “She’s still hot and you can see that she’s restless,” said the woman who’d ush
ered them in. He recognized her red-brown hair, freckles and no-nonsense expression from the previous night.

  “I’ll take a look.” Carrying a medical kit, Samantha Forrest headed for her little patient.

  The nurse surveyed Ian disapprovingly. “What’s he doing here?”

  “Lori, this is Ian,” Jennifer said in a chiding tone. “Before you called, I invited him to do a story.” Then, as if unable to contain her anxiety, she hurried to the couch, leaving the two of them alone in the doorway.

  “Sorry.” Lori’s expression didn’t strike Ian as particularly regretful, however. “Nothing personal.”

  “I understand.” He swung his attention to the couch, where Samantha had removed the pillows blocking his view of Rosalie.

  “Good heavens, she’s wrapped up like a mummy,” the doctor said.

  “It was cold this morning,” Lori explained.

  “Brisk, I suppose. But it’s comfortable in here.” As the pediatrician began unbundling the baby, Ian took out his camera.

  Lori scowled. “Put that away.”

  He hesitated.

  Hovering fretfully at the doctor’s elbow, Jennifer weighed in. “Hardly appropriate, Ian. What if she’s truly sick?”

  “You’re right.” He put the camera back in its case.

  While he’d conducted plenty of touchy interviews, Ian had never been in a situation where he felt quite like this. Experience had programmed him to treat every occurrence as a story angle and every image as a photo opportunity. Instead, he ached to soothe away the worry on Jennifer’s face. To forget about reporting and become part of the events instead of observing them.

  He couldn’t allow that. Not only would it be unprofessional, but at some level it might prove Viktor right about Ian’s true calling. Damn it, he wasn’t some mushy human-interest writer.

  “Let’s find out what her temperature’s doing.” Samantha rolled the baby onto her tummy. Whoa! She was going to stick the thermometer where?

  “Can’t you take a reading from her ear?” At Ian’s last checkup, that was what the nurse had done. And a good thing, too.