The Baby Jackpot

Chapter Fourteen



Stacy awoke Saturday morning feeling as if she’d fought ten rounds of a boxing match. All night her brain had hopped from topic to topic, while her hormones demanded sleep.

The result had been a series of disturbing dreams. As the morning sunlight peeked into the bedroom, she recalled wispy fragments. Andrew earnestly presenting her with a jeweler’s box, which she opened to reveal a heap of bronzed baby booties. Zora wielding the ultrasound paddle like a hot iron. Cole talking to her with no words coming out. Why couldn’t she understand him?

Still, she’d received a couple of shocks yesterday. Three babies. Her hand instinctively cupped her stomach. Pregnancy in triplicate. And then there was what Zora had said about Andrew.

He hadn’t simply been overwhelmed by love. A man who adored and cherished a woman didn’t lie to her. Well, not an honorable man, anyway. Of course, an honorable man didn’t cheat on his wife, either.

Yet the man Stacy had fallen in love with in her college days had been golden to her. Larger than life, charismatic, warm, tender. Why and how had he changed?

Restlessly, she went about preparing for the day. The housewarming party started at three o’clock, and although Harper had arranged for a caterer to deliver the main dishes a little later, Stacy had promised to fix hors d’oeuvres to feed early arrivals. She was also making a special dessert: two Boston cream pies. Mia had requested them at the urging of her friend Fiona, who used to live in Boston.

Why on earth did I agree?

Stacy studied the recipe she’d downloaded. This wasn’t a simple cake. It had layers, a cream filling and chocolate sauce.

Better get started.

Off she went to the supermarket to buy the ingredients. All the while, her brain kept kicking up more troubling reflections from the ultrasound session.

She’d be relinquishing not one baby but three. What if she was never able to have more? She’d used up a lot of eggs this cycle, and who could tell what the future might bring? But she couldn’t keep three children. They needed a real home.

And was it possible Andrew really had misunderstood her desire for children? Or had Stacy driven him away with her eagerness to become a mother? He was the one who’d insisted that they save a lot of money first. Perhaps he’d felt overwhelmed by the responsibilities of fatherhood.

If so, why hadn’t he told her?

Pushing her shopping cart distractedly, Stacy smacked into a shelf. She stopped to regain control and replace a couple of cans. There was a question she’d never dared to ask Andrew, and it forced its way to her attention now.

Zora was his high-school sweetheart. What if he never really loved me? What if she was his true love all along?

That still didn’t account for him lying to Zora. And if he never loved Stacy, why had their romance felt so passionate and earnest?

It would explain why he apparently hadn’t wanted to have children with her, however. And that hurt.

By the time she returned to the apartment with her arms full of groceries, Stacy had made two decisions. First, since it was impossible to arrive at any conclusions about Andrew, she had to put him out of her mind. Second, on Monday she’d ask the hospital attorney to refer her to an adoption agency. Once she chose a couple, surely this whole situation with triplets would become less troubling.

Feeling some relief that she’d formulated a plan to lay her demons to rest, Stacy set to work preparing for the party.

* * *

ON SATURDAY MORNING, Cole took a break in the doctors’ lounge between surgeries. The sight of Zack Sargent pouring himself a cup of coffee reminded Cole that here was an excellent potential source of information.

He’d heard a fascinating tale of how Zack got together with his wife. He and Jan had been engaged many years earlier, when she’d become pregnant. Despite some discussion about adoption, Jan had kept their daughter, Kimmie—now school age—after they broke up. Before they met again and reconciled, Zack had been married and widowed, and had a stepdaughter they were also raising. The situation seemed romantic to Cole, so perhaps the obstetrician could offer some pointers.

“May I ask you a question?” Cole asked.

“As long as you promise not to call me Jack.”

“I won’t.” Cole had mixed up the man’s name several times. “I wondered how you persuaded Jan not to give up your daughter for adoption.”

Zack cast him a dubious look. “Are you serious?”

“I am.”

The obstetrician studied him a moment longer, as if to make sure Cole was truly on the level. “I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“She told me she planned to relinquish Kimmie, and I signed the papers.” Zack took a seat on one of the couches. “Six years later, when she accepted the job here, I found out she’d changed her mind and never informed me. Imagine my surprise to learn she was raising our little girl.”

Cole tried, and failed, to imagine the situation. “You must have been thrilled,” he said.

“Thrilled?” The other doctor studied him in astonishment. “I was furious. I’d missed all those years with Kimmie.”

“Then why did you two get married?” Cole persisted. “Was it for your daughter’s sake?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I’m trying to figure out some complicated issues in my life,” Cole admitted.

“Okay.” Zack’s head dipped in acknowledgment. “I got over being angry and realized I still loved Jan. We had quite a few issues to work out, though.”

“Oh?”

“Just when I assumed we were finally on the same wavelength, she pushed me away.” The words came out with a touch of irritation. “She decided I was too controlling.”

“How did you win her back?” Cole waited tensely, hoping for a blinding insight.

“I stopped pushing.” Zack shrugged. “I discovered I had to let her come to me on her own terms.”

“I see.” But he didn’t. If he let Stacy go, Cole might never see her again, outside work. “Well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” The other doctor seemed glad to be done with the conversation. “By the way, I recommend a Christmas wedding. Ours was beautiful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

If Stacy said yes, she could have any type of wedding she wanted, Cole reflected. Of course, if she waited too long, they’d have to wheel her down the aisle with her feet propped up.

That would be just fine with him.

* * *

PULLING THE ROUND CAKE LAYERS from the oven, Stacy couldn’t believe how much work she still had left to do, with only an hour before the party started. By now, the cakes should be sliced in half horizontally and layered with filling, the chocolate topping melted...and what about the three dozen eggs waiting to be shelled, halved and deviled?

Dropping onto a chair, she called Harper. “I’m running late.”

“Are you okay?” her friend responded.

“I hate letting you down. I’m such a screwup.”

“Stacy, you’re the most reliable person I know. If you don’t feel well, I’ll understand.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” She hated to admit she’d fallen asleep while the cakes were baking. “How’s everything there?”

“Chaotic but fun,” her friend responded. “Can you believe a neighbor offered us a kitten this morning? I was planning to wait, but you know how badly Mia wanted one.”

“She must be overjoyed.”

“Yes, and there’s more good news. It looks like I might be accepted as an egg donor!” Harper exclaimed. “I passed the first evaluation and my physical exam went great. I wonder what kind of family will pick me.”

Her excitement reminded Stacy of her own, earlier in the process. She wished she was free to enjoy Una’s pregnancy and give her support, as she’d planned. Instead, Stacy felt waterlogged and dull-witted. The hard-boiled eggs filling a large pot seemed to mock her. She could almost hear them snickering inside their shells.

I must be losing it.

“I better get to work,” she said.

“Oh—the ultrasound!” Harper broke in. “How’d it go?”

Stacy told her.

“Triplets! But you...you haven’t changed your mind about...” Her friend’s voice trailed off.

“Giving them up? That’s still the plan.” She braced for an argument.

Instead, Harper said, “I hate when people question my decision to become an egg donor, so if this is the right thing for you, then hooray.”

“Thanks.” The encouragement felt good.

“Oh, there’s Adrienne and Reggie at the door,” Harper said.

“Go let them in.”

“Mia just did.”

“Well, go start the party. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

After clicking off, Stacy began to peel the eggs. Although Adrienne had requested that she save the shells for a compost heap, she dumped them in the trash. She couldn’t deal with even one more detail.

Before long, shelled and rinsed eggs covered the counter. Another dozen to go, and then there were the cakes to finish.

Stacy stared in dismay. It was ridiculous to get upset about such a small thing, but she felt overwhelmed.

When she heard the front door open, she kept her back toward Cole. Women’s emotions made men uncomfortable. Weeping and wailing, as her father called it, had always irritated him, and Andrew’s response to any moodiness had been to withdraw.

A tear trailed down her cheek.

Cole came into the kitchen. “Can I help?” The smell of antiseptic was especially strong today.

He’d been assigned a scrub nurse named Anya Meeks, Stacy recalled. Young, pretty, lighthearted.

Everything I used to be.

She cleared her throat. “I’ll be done in a minute.”

“Doesn’t the party start at three?” Cole stood there, taking in the piles of food.

“I’m almost finished,” Stacy said.

“No, you aren’t.” From behind, his arms closed around her. “You’re upset.”

“Hormones,” she muttered thickly.

“Tell me what to do.”

No anger. No impatience. Just a matter-of-fact offer to help. It was exactly what Stacy needed. “Okay.”

He’d never peeled eggs before, she learned, but the task posed little problem for a surgeon’s hands. The same was true of the delicate task of slicing the round cakes into two layers each.

Within half an hour, the eggs had been deviled and the cakes assembled with their filling and chocolate sauce. Stacy didn’t mind wiping away the flecks of yellow yolk all over the counter—Cole had been a bit overeager with the beaters—while he filled the dishwasher.

“I have to change clothes.” She draped her arms around him. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Cole murmured.

She lingered, relishing his solid strength and enjoying the way he kissed her hair and massaged her shoulder blades. She felt a stirring deep inside, a longing to be part of him.

“You’re a lifesaver.” She drew away reluctantly. “I’m not sure why I fell apart.”

“My specialty is stitching people together,” Cole responded, studying her. He always seemed to be looking for clues to something.

“Back in a minute.” Stacy went to put on a clean top and pants. When she returned, it was a little past three. Her spirits lifted at the sight of Cole’s finishing touches: he’d packed the Boston cream pies neatly in cake carriers and aligned the deviled eggs inside plastic boxes.

The two of them functioned very well as a team. Not surprising, given that they did that almost daily in the O.R.

They’d planned to drive separately, but why bother? “Let’s take my car. It’s bigger,” Stacy said.

“Good idea.” His eyes were dancing.

As for how fellow staffers might react to the sight of them as a couple, she no longer cared.

* * *

COLE HAD NEVER ENJOYED parties. Usually, he had no idea what to say, and often he offended people by forgetting their names.

However, he’d never before arrived with such a popular companion, nor with an array of enticing food. People hurried to help Stacy and him carry in the containers, and dived into the deviled eggs as soon as they were transferred onto platters. Mia and another little girl hopped up and down with excitement when they saw the Boston cream pies, and their mothers narrowly prevented them from sticking their fingers into the chocolate sauce.

Harper’s ranch-style rental house, set in a neighborhood of similar homes, was rapidly taking on individuality. By the front steps, Adrienne was busy planting flowers in a freshly turned bed. Arriving guests handed her pots of geraniums, miniature roses and blossoming annuals.

“Gardening is my hobby,” she explained when Cole wandered out front to admire her handiwork. “I hired someone to prepare the soil, but I love getting my hands into it. Don’t get much chance these days, with my schedule.”

Having grown up in a condominium, Cole had never taken an interest in gardening. It looked like fun. “What about vegetables? That would be more practical than flowers.”

“They tend to look raggedy in a front yard,” Adrienne said. “One of these days I’ll have you over to my house. It’s got a nice big yard with an herb garden, and I always plant a few tomatoes.”

More people arrived. While Cole didn’t remember all their names, he remembered more than he’d expected. Unlike in Minnesota, where he’d kept his private life and personal ideas separate from work, he chatted with many of these people on a range of topics.

Not everything went smoothly. Ned Norwalk pointedly avoided him, making Cole sorry he’d snapped at the nurse about moving in with Stacy. Not too sorry, though. And he wasn’t pleased when a staffer’s daughter, Tammy, a journalism student at California State University, Fullerton, asked if she could interview Dr. Daddy Crisis for her blog.

“I’d rather let that nonsense die a quiet death,” Cole told her.

At Tammy’s disappointed look, her mother, nurse Eva Rogers, gave her a poke. “I warned you,” she said sternly.

Tammy scrunched her face. “What kind of reporter would I be if I didn’t try?”

Cole hurried away. Yet, despite feeling a bit awkward, he didn’t try to stick to Stacy’s side. These were her friends and she seemed to enjoy circulating freely.

No one mentioned the triplets. As far as he could tell, Stacy wasn’t spreading the news about that yet. He was glad, especially with Miss Would-Be Journalist hanging about.

Standing alone with a glass of punch in hand, Cole noted the way people cast him speculative glances. Wondering about his relationship with Stacy? Well, so was he.

On the rear patio, a handful of guests clustered around a snack table set up with the deviled eggs, as well as chips and dips and a cheese tray. Having eaten more than his share of the eggs while fixing them, Cole wasn’t tempted to join in.

He found a deck chair near Adrienne, who’d finished her gardening duties and stretched out on a lounger for some well-deserved rest. “I’m amazed at the lack of flies in California,” he told her. “All this food and nothing buzzing around.”

“I take it for granted, probably because I grew up here.” The doctor had brushed out the long blond hair she usually wore in a twist. She was an attractive woman, Cole realized, although her loose sweater and casual jeans indicated she didn’t fuss about appearances.

He sat beside her, watching a group of children play catch on the grass. Mia stayed on the sidelines, cradling a kitten and cheering on her friends. “Good throw, Reggie!” she called to a blond boy, who flashed her a grin minus a couple of teeth.

“That’s my nephew.” Adrienne sighed. “He’s growing fast.”

Stacy had mentioned that Adrienne was raising the boy after her sister’s death in a car crash a few months ago. “It must be hard, adjusting to parenthood,” Cole said.

“I’ve had plenty of practice.” The obstetrician stretched her shoulders. “After our mother died three years ago, I took this job at Safe Harbor partly so I could help with Reggie. My sister was bipolar and abused alcohol, like both our parents. Reggie needed stability in his life, and I’m it.”

Although surprised by her frankness about such personal matters, Cole appreciated the confidence. “Your long hours must make it hard to spend time with him.”

“It’s far from ideal, but I do the best I can.” She closed her eyes, and he recalled that she must have been on duty overnight. A moment later, she opened them to glance toward her nephew.

Keeping watch. Must be her maternal instincts.

“You love him a lot,” Cole observed.

She sat up straighter. “Reggie’s a great little guy, a real trooper. I just wish I didn’t have to leave him with sitters so often.”

“You’re adopting him?” Cole asked. “I presume that’s necessary, even with a family relationship.”

“I want him to feel secure that I’ll always be there,” Adrienne noted. “It’s basically a formality. Vicki’s will appointed me guardian. Reggie’s father was one of those hit-and-run jobs.”

Ouch. Cole wondered if that was a dig at him.

Adrienne smiled. “Stop scowling. I didn’t mean you.”

“You sure?”

“You’re obviously pitching in,” she said.

“Doing my best.” He couldn’t resist asking. “Do you think Stacy’s going to regret giving up the triplets for adoption?”

Adrienne raised her hand in a warning. Realizing he’d lost track of who was nearby, Cole scanned the area. Eva’s daughter stood not far off, idly observing the children. Or so it appeared.

“Do you think she heard?”

Adrienne gave a headshake, as if to caution him. She must also suspect the young woman of eavesdropping.

Cole remembered his mother granting interviews to science and medical reporters, who’d always respected her boundaries. He decided to hope for the best. Tammy was Eva’s daughter, after all.

Besides, here came Mia with a squirming black-and-white kitten in her arms. “Hi, Dr. Rattigan. This is Po.”

“How’d you pick the name?”

“Like Kung Fu Panda,” she said. “He’s black-and-white, too.”

“He’s cute.” Cole reached out to pat the soft fur.

Through the rear sliding door, Harper announced, “The caterer’s here! Come eat dinner while it’s hot.”

Cole checked his watch. “It’s only four-thirty.”

“Does eating early break some universal law?” Adrienne teased.

“I guess I should go with the flow, huh?”

His companion patted his arm. “I’m starting to like you.” Then she called, “Wash your hands, Reggie!” and vanished into the interior, along with a rush of children.

Cole followed in their wake, not sure how to take Adrienne’s comment, and concluding that he might as well consider it a compliment.