The Surgeon's Baby Bombshell

by Deanne Anders

  “Who’s Melinda?” he asked. He could see only the one doll in the room.

  “Melinda is Dr. Frannie’s doll. She’s going to bring her by tomorrow, so they can have a play date. Melissa has a tube.” She looked over at her mother, sitting in the chair beside her. “A feeding tube like mine. See?”

  Ian looked at the little plastic doll, dressed only in a diaper. He could see where someone had carefully cut a hole through it and inserted the tube.

  “Me and Melissa are going to get some food in our tummies today. She’s not scared, though. I told her it would be okay.”

  “Tell him what Melissa does after she gets the food through her tummy,” said Frannie, who had come to stand beside him.

  He noticed that she was still wearing her lab coat, though this one seemed to fit a little better. Not that it mattered. He had seen what she hid behind those coats. She could cover herself in the ugliest lab coats there was, but he’d still see her sitting on his kitchen worktop with only his shirt and some small slips of silk between them.

  “She pees in her diaper!” Sarah said, before breaking out in giggles.

  He noticed that she winced when she laughed, which told him her surgery site was still sore. He watched as the nurse spoke to Sarah’s mother and then left the room—no doubt going to get some more of the pain medication he’d ordered for the little girl.

  “She’s doing so much better than I thought she would,” Frannie said as the little girl turned to talk to her mother. “After that first conversation we had about her getting the feeding tube I wasn’t sure how she was going to react when she saw it.”

  “Do you do this with your other patients?” he asked.

  “I try to. Children are very visual, and I’ve found they respond well to my visual aids,” she said.

  “It’s certainly worked with Sarah,” he said. “Sarah?” He bent down to her. “Can your mommy hold Melissa for a little bit? I want to check the tube in your tummy.”

  He saw Frannie reach for one of the little girl’s hands while Sarah’s mother held the other one. He noted that the tissue around the inserted feeding tube was free of any sign of infection. He laid his hand on her small stomach and found it soft, as it should be. He took out his stethoscope and listened to her abdomen—and then he did something he normally didn’t think of. He handed the ear tubes of the stethoscope to Sarah.

  “Do you want to listen?” he asked.

  The little girl placed the tubes in her ears.

  “This is called a stethoscope. It helps me listen to what’s going on inside you.”

  Sarah’s eyes grew big and then she giggled.

  “Do you hear that? That’s your tummy gurgling, saying it wants something to eat, so the nurse is going to put some liquid food in there. Is that okay, Sarah?”

  The little girl nodded, then handed back the stethoscope and turned back to her mother.

  “I need a stethoscope, Mommy. Melissa’s too little to talk, and I won’t know if she’s hungry unless I have one and listen like the doctor.”

  Her mother looked at him with a grin.

  He and Frannie said their goodbyes, promising to return the next day to see both Sarah and Melissa.

  “Well, that went better than I thought,” he said, and then looked at his watch. “I’ve got surgeries scheduled for the rest of the day, but I’ll check back on her before I leave tonight, to make sure there are no issues.”

  Frannie stopped in the hall beside him, then laid her hand on his arm. She looked tired. They’d stayed out way too late last night.

  “I need to talk to you. Maybe we could get together later? After your surgeries?” she asked.

  “My last surgery is at four. I should be out of here by six,” he said.

  “I have a group meeting till five-thirty. Could I come by your office when it’s over?” she asked.

  He watched as her smile faltered, but then as if he had imagined it the smile was back. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  “I’ll see you at six,” she said, then turned away from him and rushed down the opposite hallway.

  His phone rang. A nurse in the operating room was letting him know they were ready for him.

  He’d thought the conversation between him and Frannie the night before had cleared the air, but maybe he’d been wrong. Well, whatever it was she needed it would have to wait for now.

  * * *

  Frannie knocked on Ian’s office door and was surprised when he opened the door instead of calling for her to enter. They stood together at the door for a minute, neither moving. She searched his eyes for something that would tell her how he was going to take the news of her pregnancy. He’d been in a good mood earlier in the day, but having a one-time lover show up to tell you she was expecting your baby would definitely change that.

  She took a chair in front of his desk—the one she’d sat in not too long ago while she had tried to get him to understand what her work with his patients was about.

  And somehow now I have to tell the same man that I’m pregnant with his baby.

  She had to admit that he had come a long way from the man she had seen that day, but there was still so much she didn’t know about him. So much they didn’t know about each other.

  She waited while he took a seat, leaving the width of the desk between them.

  How did you say something like this?

  “Ian, I’m pregnant,” she said.

  She started to say she was sorry, then stopped herself. She didn’t owe him an apology. The baby was a consequence of their night together and the two of them would deal with it together.

  She watched as every drop of blood seemed to drain from his face. She wondered if she should tell him to put his head in his lap before he passed out.

  Unable to sit there any longer, waiting for his reaction, she rose from the chair and was surprised to see him rise with her.

  “I don’t regret that night, Ian—nor do I regret the baby,” she said.

  “A baby should never be regretted,” he said. “No matter what the circumstances.”

  His son. He was still grieving for his son. And now he had another child coming—unplanned and possibly unwanted. Could he handle having this child while he still grieved for the other one? She wanted to help him with his grief, but she knew it would be a fight.

  “When did you find out?” he asked.

  “This morning. I woke up feeling off and then I checked the calendar,” she said. “I took a test after I got to work.”

  “Like I told you, I’m not good with relationships—not this type of relationship at least,” he said.

  “What type is that? Relationships with your baby’s mother?” she said, and then smiled at him. “This is a first for me too.”

  He came around the desk to her and leaned back. She stood still as he studied her.

  “I’ve been married and divorced once, so I don’t have the best record, but we could—”

  “I’m not looking for a marriage proposal,” she said, interrupting him. “That’s not why I came here.”

  “So you’re planning on raising the baby by yourself?” he asked as he moved closer to her. “Do I get to be involved at all?”

  “Of course you do—but that doesn’t mean we need to get married, or even be together. It’s the twenty-first century. Times have changed. Single women raise babies and still have the father involved,” she said.

  Her heart was beating fast now. Never had she imagined that he would want to marry her because of the pregnancy. Yes, it would be hard at first. There would be some gossip, and then there would be telling her father—something that she didn’t want even to think about right then—but she’d get through it. No, they would get through it together.

  “I would never think of not involving you, Ian, and I’m not so naïve that I don’t realize I’m going
to need your help, but that doesn’t mean we need to get married. For now I would like to keep this between the two of us.”

  “Frannie, a new baby is a lot of work even for two people. You can’t expect to do it all alone.”

  “I won’t be alone,” she said. “We can do this together but that doesn’t mean we need to get married. This is what I want, Ian.”

  “Okay, for now we’ll do it your way. But you have to promise that if you need anything you’ll come to me,” he said, then looked down at his watch. “It’s getting late. Have you eaten?”

  “I’ll grab something on the way home,” she said.

  The emotions of the day had driven her to the point of exhaustion and she couldn’t wait to get there.

  They walked together out to the parking lot, then went their separate ways. There would be so much to discuss between the two of them, but it would have to wait for another day.

  * * *

  Ian stood in the doorway of baby Micah’s room and froze. Standing in the middle of the room stood Frannie, carefully holding his tiny patient. In a few months she’d be holding their baby.

  After losing his son, Brian, and then his divorce, he’d never considered having another child. What if something happened to it? What if their child was born with a birth defect like Micah?

  Seeing the look of pure joy on Frannie’s face felt like a kick in his stomach. She looked so perfect as she cuddled the baby to her chest. He couldn’t share his fears with her. It wouldn’t be fair to cause her to worry needlessly.

  He saw that both of Micah’s parents were in the room and felt a moment of panic.

  Micah had been born with a diaphragmatic hernia, and when he had met with his parents he’d been surprised to discover that Micah’s father, Jeff, was a nurse he had worked with while at Emory, during his residency, who had recently transferred.

  The fact that not only he but also Lydia had worked with Jeff made him feel uncomfortable. After the death of their child, and then the divorce, Lydia had become very vocal in her claims against Ian, and he was sure Jeff had heard all the gossip. He’d been very careful to keep his relationship with Micah’s parents professional, and not to discuss the time they had worked together. But now Frannie had somehow gotten herself involved with them, and there was no telling what she had been told.

  “Good morning,” he said as he came in and shook hands with Jeff. “I think my patient might be a little young for your services, Dr. Wentworth.”

  “He’s beautiful—and I’m only here as a friend,” Frannie said as she handed the baby back to his mother, Mia. “Now I have to get back to work.”

  Mia laid the baby in his crib and began unbuttoning the small tee shirt he wore that covered a nice clean incision site. Micah was a lucky little baby. He’d come through surgery without any complications, and with his father and mother looking after him Ian had no doubt the baby would do well in the future.

  “He’s looking great, isn’t he?” Mia asked.

  “Yes, he is. I’ve reviewed his newest scans and lab work and he’s doing very well. We’ll keep him for a few more weeks, but if he continues doing well with his feeding we’ll start making plans for when he goes home. Hang in there. We’re on the downward slope now. We’ll have you home as soon as possible.”

  “I was wondering if I could review those labs with you before I head back to the ER,” Jeff said.

  Looking at Jeff, Ian could relate to the young father’s need for the kind of reassurance that only seeing the actual tests himself would give.

  Ian had planned to follow Frannie, so he could check on how she was doing. In the days since he’d learned about her pregnancy he’d made a habit of checking on her daily, and in the last week they’d spent a lot of time together—both at the hospital and then working on the float. She’d told him the last time they’d spoken that she was having some nausea, but besides that she was feeling fine.

  She’d also said she’d made an appointment with an obstetrician, and he was disappointed that she hadn’t invited him to go along with her. But he knew he had no right to complain. If he had asked to go with her he was sure she would have been fine with it, but he hadn’t.

  Frannie had made it plain that it was up to him whether or not he’d be a part of the baby’s life. He just hoped that he would make the right decision for both the baby’s and Frannie’s sake. He didn’t want to let down anyone else who was counting on him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  FRANNIE HAD TRIED to prepare Ian for the krewe ball that they had been invited to by Dr. Guidry and his wife, but she could tell that he was still having a problem taking everything in. The room had been decked out with linen tablecloths of gold, while hundreds of dark purple and green balloons floated against the ceiling.

  “And you’re saying this isn’t one of the big balls? There’s got to be over three hundred people here.”

  He moved in close to her, trying to talk over the music being played by the band that was on stage, while some of the men and women all dressed in their Mardi Gras best circled around the room and others danced.

  “This is just a small one. They have several to earn money for different projects. The big balls won’t start until actual Mardi Gras season. If it was the actual Mardi Gras season you’d have had to wear a tux with tails. Tonight is just for socializing and networking, so merely a tux is permissible.”

  She wanted to tell him how good he looked, all dressed up in formal attire, but didn’t want to yell it across the room.

  They moved back, away from the influx of people coming into the ballroom, and as she began to look for the table listed on their tickets Ian took her arm in his.

  “Darling Frannie, you look beautiful,” Mrs. Guidry said as she came up to them.

  The older woman was wearing a long gown covered in small purple and gold jewels which reminded Frannie of something that might have been worn by a movie star back in the old days of black and white film. Frannie herself had gone for a midnight-blue silk dress that hugged her body. She knew that by the time it was Mardi Gras season she wouldn’t be able to wear it. She was sure there existed formal maternity clothes, but she had no idea where...

  “And Dr. Spencer—it’s so nice to see you. I’ve been meaning to thank you for all your help so far this year with our float. It’s nice to know there’s a doctor who knows his way around a power tool besides the instruments he uses in the operating room.”

  “There you are,” Dr. Guidry said as he came up behind his wife. “And Frannie and Ian—it’s nice to see you here. It’s always great to see our physicians involved in the community.”

  “Of course,” Ian said, and then waited till they had moved away. “Do you think he even remembers that our volunteering wasn’t a choice?”

  “I’m sure he does. He’s just giving us a chance to take credit for it,” said Frannie.

  She watched as her father approached them. She hadn’t been sure he would attend, but had hoped she would get to see him if he did.

  “Good evening, Daddy,” she said, nodding her head toward him.

  The coolness of their relationship now, compared to the way they had been together when she was growing up, broke her heart. She missed her daddy. But things had changed between them after the death of her mother and then later, when she’d informed him that she wouldn’t be following in his footsteps.

  Maybe if she’d had a brother or sister he would have accepted that she had to take her own path. Instead he had tried to pressure her into doing something she knew she couldn’t do.

  She knew she had disappointed him, but she would be happy to move on in their relationship. However, until he gave her and her job the recognition and the respect they deserved they would not be able to. While she might have disappointed him, he had hurt her. She’d made the top of her class all through school, and yet still she couldn’t live up to his expectation
s.

  Hopefully someday they’d come to an understanding. Right now, she was just worried about how he was going to take her pregnancy news.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” her father said.

  “Yes, she does,” Ian said as he put his hand over hers, where it rested on his arm. “You’re a lucky man to have such a beautiful and intelligent daughter.”

  Her face flushed at Ian’s praise—something she hadn’t been prepared for.

  “Her program with our trauma patients is going very well, and their parents are singing her praises about the help she has been to them and their children,” Ian went on.

  Frannie checked to make sure her mouth was closed.

  “That’s high praise, coming from you, Dr. Spencer. The three of us will have to get together soon. Frannie hasn’t shared much of what she’s doing at the hospital with me. Maybe you can join us for our Thanksgiving meal this year? Frannie cooks a great holiday meal,” her father said, and then excused himself to speak with another colleague as he passed.

  “I haven’t shared anything with him because I know he’s not interested,” she said after her father had left. “But thank you for that. It means a lot to me—though you were laying it on a little thick.”

  “There’s also a little bit of other news you haven’t shared with him. Maybe it would be a good idea for the two of us to join him for Thanksgiving, and you can let him know that he’s going to be a grandfather.”

  “And what are you going to say when he asks you if you’re going to make an honest woman of me?” she asked. That would be one conversation she wouldn’t want to miss.

  “The truth. That he’s raised a stubborn daughter who has refused my offer of marriage,” he said.

  “Aside from the fact that you didn’t actually ask me to marry you that evening, I’m not being stubborn. I’m being independent—and I won’t have you and my father ganging up on me,” she said. “Though I think I could take on the two of you without any trouble!”