His Baby Dream (Safe Harbor Medical) (14 page)

Even after Adrienne moved into this family home three years ago, providing stability to Reggie as Vicki’s bipolar disorder worsened, she’d remained an intimidating figure. Then, grief at Vicki’s death had brought them together these past eight months, along with the need to support each other as single parents.

Now, with nearly an hour to spare, they were relaxing in the family room. “How’s the picture book progressing?” Adrienne smoothed her blond hair, which she’d pulled back with a jeweled clip.

“I’m nearly finished with the photos, unless he thinks of anything we’re lacking.” Harper fingered her camera case.

“What’s going on between you two, anyway?”

“You mean me and Peter?”

“Is there anyone else?”

“No, but...” Harper nearly shrugged off the topic. Oh, who was she kidding? Adrienne had seen how they interacted at the birthday party, and probably received an earful from Mia. “We were getting too close.”

“Too close for whom?”

“For him. And me.” She sighed. “We were great pals—until I fell for him.”

“You’re sure he doesn’t feel the same way?” her friend probed.

“There’s only room in his heart for one woman, and that’s Angela.” Harper explained about him weeping over his wife’s grave. “To him, anything beyond friendship is out of the question. I was more vulnerable than I’d expected, so I broke it off. Not that there was much to break off, except in my imagination.”

“Sounds like you miss him.” Adrienne shifted her perch on a well-worn sofa that had been freshened with lacy pillows. Above her, a montage showed photos of her parents, of her and Vicki growing up and of Reggie as an infant.

None included his father, whom Harper only vaguely recalled meeting when he and Vicki were dating. He’d left town soon after his son’s birth and never so much as sent a dime to help his son. Although she and Stacy had urged Vicki to sue for child support, she’d refused.

Peter was nothing like that. If he were, she wouldn’t hurt so intensely. All week, she’d felt as if someone had yanked a rug from beneath her feet. Vanessa’s failure to conceive had contributed to her moodiness, but also to her concern for how Peter might be reacting to the loss.

“Any words of advice?” Harper asked.

“About what?”

“Getting over him,” she said. “I don’t know much about relationships. It’s not as if I dated much before I got married. Sean was the only man I ever cared about.”

“What makes you think I know anything about relationships?” Adrienne asked.

“Well, you’re a doctor,” Harper noted. “And older.” During their teen years, when the five-year age gap seemed enormous, Adrienne had been a font of information about boys.

“I’ve never been married.” The other woman stretched. “I was engaged once, but that fell apart.”

“Why?” Harper ventured. She didn’t mean to be nosy, but she’d opened up about her own problems.

Adrienne shrugged. “It was during my residency. My fiancé was an attending physician who said he didn’t care for kids. Then he got one of the nurses pregnant. Suddenly he couldn’t wait to marry her and play daddy.”

“What a jerk.” Harper’s heart went out to her friend, who wasn’t able to have children. As a teenager, she’d undergone an emergency hysterectomy following a car crash. The driver, her then-boyfriend, had been drunk.

“I’ve been over it for a long time.” Adrienne straightened as a car rolled down the street, stopping nearby. “I’m glad I can be here for Reggie and that I have him. Other than that, I’ve fantasized about finding the right man, but that’s hardly likely, is it?”

“I’m beginning to think men aren’t worth the trouble.”

“Me, too.” Glancing at a cutout set of wedding bells adorning the refreshment table, Adrienne chuckled. “Thank goodness it’s worked out better for Stacy. That’s probably her and her mom now.”

Outside, Harper heard familiar voices, and then the bell rang. Time to break out the party favors and silly games. And to wonder why she, despite having had a happy marriage to Sean, had reached the same conclusion about men as Adrienne.

Chapter Fourteen

Bad luck comes in threes.

Peter didn’t believe in superstitions, but Angela had. Once, after a fender-bender parking lot accident was followed by a twisted ankle at home, she’d deliberately broken a teacup in hopes of forestalling a third mishap. He couldn’t recall now whether it had worked.

He almost hoped the old saying was true, because if so, by now he was due for some good luck, he reflected as he parked outside his parents’ house on a Saturday morning in late September. As he went to the door, Peter averted his gaze from the for-sale sign on the lawn. No sense dwelling on how sad he felt about saying goodbye to this beloved home.

He was still reeling from his recent triple dose of bad luck. Harper’s withdrawal had hit him harder than he’d expected. The emailed photos only reminded him of how much he longed to be sitting beside her, joking and talking.

The second misfortune had been Vanessa’s failure to implant, although there was hope again. This past week, she’d undergone a transfer of the remaining three embryos. As hard as Peter tried not to dwell on what might be happening inside her, fear and longing battled through his heart. This was the last chance with Harper’s eggs. If it didn’t work, then what?

Yet he’d had little time to dwell on that, thanks to his third stroke of bad luck. And how was he going to tell his parents about that?

When he rang the bell, his mother opened it so fast, she must have been watching out the window. “Hi, sweetie!” Kerry gave him a hug. “I don’t know how we let a whole month go by.” They hadn’t met since his sister’s wedding, although they’d talked on the phone.

“It’s not like we aren’t in touch.”

“There’s no substitute for personal contact.” His dad gave him a clap on the shoulder.

Peter rubbed his arm, feigning pain. “Mercifully.” Why were both parents waiting at the door? Eager for word of the babies? “It’s too soon for news from Vanessa.”

“We’re keeping our fingers crossed.” His mom led the way into the dining room. Tablecloth, flowers, holiday china. She’d set a fancy table for a simple brunch.

“This is beautiful,” Peter told her. “What’s the occasion?”

“Having you over is always an occasion,” she said, a little too brightly.

“Mom?”

“Food’s ready.” She ducked into the kitchen.

The aroma of bacon was soon joined by the irresistible sight of pancakes and scrambled eggs. “What a feast.” Peter appreciated all this work. He was the one who’d requested that they eat early, since he planned to attend Cole’s wedding that afternoon.

“We’ve been reading about some belt-tightening in your school district,” Rod said as they passed the serving plates. “I hope that hasn’t affected you.”

Suddenly, the food didn’t look as appetizing. “I’m afraid it has.”

“They can’t lay you off.” Kerry paused with her fork in midair. “The district has to notify you the previous spring if that’s a possibility.” Preliminary layoff notices—usually more than necessary, just in case—had to be sent by March. Budgets were firmed up in May, except when the legislature kept changing its allocations...like this year.

“My job’s safe, in a sense.” Peter had enough seniority to survive the cuts. But not enough to keep his favorite classroom. “However, the principal has reassigned me to teach physical education.”

His parents sat stunned. They knew how much he loved biology. Even though he had his P.E. credentials, that had always been a secondary field for him.

“When?” Rod asked.

“I got the news two weeks after classes started. What a mess.” Peter took a swallow of orange juice before continuing. “The state cut funding, the high school dropped its Japanese language program and that teacher had seniority over me.”

“And a biology credential, I assume,” his father muttered. “I hope he or she has kept up-to-date.”

“She’s been teaching one freshman biology class,” Peter confirmed. “But she doesn’t especially like the subject. How she’s going to do a full slate of the classes, including Advanced Placement, I have no idea.”

“Meanwhile, you’re running around like crazy figuring out new lesson plans,” Kerry summed up.

Peter appreciated that, as retired teachers, his parents understood what he had to deal with. Maybe it was fortunate that, thanks to them, he had only this year before his departure for Maryland. Yet he regretted not being able to put in more time with some of the students he’d been mentoring. The outstanding kids would adjust well; they had their inner drive and usually support at home. His concern was for a group of struggling kids who, last year, had begun to blossom with his encouragement and extra tutoring sessions.

He hated leaving them. He’d been counting on having at least one more year to bring out their potential.

“You must be frustrated,” his father said.

“And exhausted,” Peter admitted. “On the positive side, I put together a proposal for the picture book and sent it to a couple of agents.” When he ran out of patience with lesson plans, he’d found the project a welcome relief. And he felt closer to Harper when he was writing it. “Maybe I can have a second career earning—what do children’s book authors make? A few thousand bucks a year?”

“But I’ll bet it’s fun,” his mother said.

“There’s that.” He returned his attention to the meal. No sense letting his other problems spoil his appetite. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mom.”

“Just something I whipped up.”

“Right.” He grinned.

After they’d cleaned their plates and his father had served the coffee, Kerry gave a little cough. It sounded like a signal to his dad. Now what? With so much on his mind, Peter had forgotten his earlier impression that his parents were hiding something.

It reminded him of the evening they’d revealed his sister’s pregnancy. Now what?

His father spoke up. “We have a little news.”

“It can’t be good, or you’d have told me sooner.” Peter rested his elbows on the table.

“It’s not that bad.” His mother’s frown lines hinted otherwise.

“We have a strong bid on the house,” Rod said. “The sold sign goes up on Monday.”

They’d only had the place on the market for a few weeks. “That was fast.”

“The agent says we priced it right for the market,” his father noted.

“How long...?” He couldn’t finish the question.

“Sixty-day escrow.” His mother watched him closely.

Then this home would belong to someone else. Peter tried to stay positive. “Have you found a place in Maryland?”

“Not yet.” His father went on talking, with his mother adding a detail here and there, as they outlined their plans. Next week, they’d fly there to tour listed properties. If they didn’t find a place right away, they’d rent short-term.

By Thanksgiving, they’d be gone. It was only a few months sooner than expected. Yet despite his decision to relocate, Peter saw, he hadn’t truly prepared emotionally. Now the future was arriving with lightning speed. Should he leave earlier than planned? Betty’s mother-in-law had emailed him not only about preschools but also about the private high school her son had attended, where she served on the board. Just last week she’d mentioned that a biology teacher was leaving midyear, due to her husband’s job transfer. Peter had set the information aside without paying much attention.

If Vanessa didn’t get pregnant, he’d have no reason to stay in California. Even if she did, he could fly in to see her like the French couple had done.

No reason to stay.
Peter’s gut tightened. No reason except...

He’d see Harper at the wedding today for the first time since they parted company last month. Her quick laughter, her sharp sideways glances, her soft mouth. Would he encounter welcoming warmth, or had she pushed him out of her thoughts as easily as she’d ejected him from her life?

Not easily. That was unfair.

As he took his leave of his parents, Peter didn’t know what he hoped would happen between him and Harper at the wedding. Something to help him make up his mind.

Or maybe a reason to stay.

* * *

“P
ETER
’
S
HERE
!” M
IA
raced into the bride’s room, her hair ribbon askew. Harper reached down to straighten it and check her daughter’s dress. Despite Mia’s running back and forth to the wedding chapel foyer, the little girl looked lovely, if a little out of breath.

“Who’s Peter?” asked Ellie. The bride’s sister, wearing her blue-and-purple matron-of-honor dress, peered up from the curling iron that she was applying to Stacy’s hair. Instead of a veil or a hat, the bride had chosen narrow crisscrossed golden headbands set with pearls and rhinestones, a style that suited her Grecian dress and left most of her hair loose.

“He’s, uh...” Mia turned to Harper.

“A friend,” she said.

In the mirror, Stacy rolled her eyes.

“More than a friend?” Ellie guessed.

“Long story.” Harper surveyed the bride, who was standing up to avoid wrinkling her gown. With her bulge becoming more pronounced every day, Stacy could have passed for a fertility goddess.

“I’m going to sit with him,” Mia announced.

“You’re going to sit with Adrienne and Reggie, as we arranged,” Harper corrected. “Besides, he probably brought a date.” She tried to ignore a twinge in her chest.

“He’d better not,” Stacy said. “I invited him as your plus-one.”

“This is getting more interesting by the minute.” Ellie finished her ministrations. “Tell me more.”

“I don’t know what it said on his invitation. It came from you, not me.” Harper was about to remind her daughter again to follow their seating plan, but Mia had already scooted into the hall. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!”

“Somebody’s got a crush,” Ellie said.

“I do not!”

“I meant your daughter.” Stacy’s sister smirked.

Stacy was fighting a smile, too. Well, never mind what they thought. Never mind what her heart told her, either.

In the wide mirror, Harper studied her reflection. She’d curled her hair, now chin length, into a pageboy. The blue-trimmed lavender dress suited her figure, which had lost the extra pounds she’d put on while taking hormones. As for her cheeks, they were pink from embarrassment.

“You certainly don’t need any blusher,” Ellie teased.

Harper glared.

“Okay, that expression might work on me if you weren’t my kid sister’s buddy, but you’re out of luck,” the other woman announced. “So, is this Peter cute? I hope Mia does sit with him so I can pick him out when we’re up front.”

“No ogling the guests.” Stacy slipped her feet into strappy high-heeled sandals. “Has anybody seen Cole? I can’t believe he scheduled surgery this morning.” The last operation had been due to end three hours ago, but might have run long. He hadn’t stopped in to announce his arrival since, according to tradition, the groom wasn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony.

“It never occurred to him that cutting people open wasn’t appropriate on his wedding day?” Ellie asked.

“Guess you have a few things to learn about your new brother-in-law,” Harper said. “And I’m sure he’s here. Cole’s head over heels in love. He’d never be late.”

“I just hope he doesn’t lose the ring.” Stacy grinned. “Oh, who cares, as long as we both make it to the altar.”

“With Dr. Tartikoff as best man, the ring wouldn’t dare disappear.” Harper gave a start as someone rapped on the door.

She opened it to admit Stacy’s parents, Ellen and Alastair Layne, who strolled in holding hands. After struggling with marital problems, the couple had recently attended a marriage renewal weekend. Since then, according to Stacy, they’d been acting like newlyweds.

“How’s it going?” Ellen asked.

The bride’s father beamed. “Honey, you look incredible.”

Stacy took a deep breath. “Thanks, Dad.” She and her father had quarreled after he learned about her unplanned pregnancy, but that was in the past.

Tears pricked Harper’s eyes. Pleased as she was for Stacy, she missed her own parents. And having a husband who loved her, someone to hold on to and cherish. A man who, on her mental screen, resembled Peter more than Sean.

This isn’t about me. It’s Stacy’s day, and she deserves the most wonderful wedding in the world. Don’t you dare act gloomy.

Under the guidance of the wedding planner, the small group assembled in the empty foyer. Belatedly, Harper wished she’d checked on Mia. No help for that now.

When the processional music began, Harper went first, as they’d rehearsed. Clutching her bouquet, she took measured steps, keeping pace with the music.

Ahead of her, at the altar, Cole fidgeted in anticipation as he gazed past Harper. Beside him, the fertility department chief waited with a confident tilt of the head. Dr. Tartikoff’s usual sardonic expression had morphed into an almost goofy grin. As for the other groomsman, Lucky Mendez, whose tux hid his tattoos, he appeared braced to leap to the groom’s rescue if needed. Just what Harper would expect from Cole’s ever-efficient office nurse.

Vaguely, she noted that the chapel was nearly full. Most of the guests were hospital staff, she presumed. Harper didn’t dare sneak sideways glances and risk tripping.

Reaching the altar, she took a position that left space for Ellie. The bride’s sister approached gracefully down the aisle.

Now that she had the chance, Harper zeroed in on her daughter and the man beside her. Mia had found a place with Peter, after all.

In a dark suit and gray striped tie, the man took Harper’s breath away. Across the rows, he met her gaze with an openness that sent warmth simmering right down to her dyed-to-match blue shoes. Had he longed for her, too? Was she insane even to speculate about that?

He hadn’t brought a date, she saw with relief. On his right sat an elderly couple she didn’t recognize.

Mia gazed joyfully up at him.
“Someone has a crush.”
The remembered comment brought Harper up short.

On Mia’s other side, Adrienne gave Harper a resigned shrug. As for Reggie, he wiggled around and knelt backward on his chair as the music shifted into the bridal march. His aunt had to grab the seat back to prevent it from tipping.