The Baby Jackpot (13 page)

There was a moment of silence and then her mother asked, “Are
you getting married?”

“No.” Out tumbled the explanation. A man she knew from work.
Watching a movie and falling asleep on his couch. Poor judgment.

She winced as she pictured the frown on her mother’s face and a
veined hand agitatedly pushing back a shock of graying hair. Her sister had
urged them to use Skype so they could see each other. Right now, Stacy was
immeasurably glad they hadn’t.

“This Dr. Rattigan,” her mother said at last. “How did he
react?”

“He asked me to marry him,” she admitted. “I said no. We aren’t
in love. He’s a nice guy and he’s helping me, but I’ve decided on adoption.”

She waited tensely. Hoping for support, bracing for
criticism.

“Are you sure?” Ellen probed. “I realize Andrew hurt you badly.
Don’t let that sour you on marriage altogether.”

“That isn’t the case,” Stacy assured her. “Adoption is simply
the right choice.”

“Then let’s keep this between us,” her mother said. “If you’re
going to give it up, there’s no reason to tell your father.”

What an odd reaction. Although Stacy’s father could be quick to
judge, it seemed strange for her mother to keep such a major secret. “Don’t you
two share everything?”

Ellen’s quick release of breath was almost a snort. “Your
father, like most men, has to be managed.”

“He does?” In view of her mom’s mood swings, Stacy had always
thought of their father as the steady one.

“Surely you’ve noticed that he tends to overreact.”

“Well, sometimes.” During her sister’s rebellious phase in high
school, a bad report card had sent their father into a tightly controlled rage.
He’d grounded Ellie, Jr. for a month and forced her to drop out of cheerleading.
Later, he’d apologized, but by then she’d been replaced on the squad. “You
really don’t think I should tell him?”

“Let me give it some thought.” Her mother was backing off a
little. “You kind of sprung this on me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad you told me, even if it did come out of the blue,”
Ellen replied. “It’s just that you were always the peacemaker. You helped me
with your dad.”

If I’m such a peacemaker, why couldn’t I
save my marriage?
But that was a question Stacy didn’t expect her
mother to answer. “I’ll follow your advice, whatever you decide.”

“You sure you’re all right?” Ellen pressed. “Getting good
medical care and everything?”

“Absolutely. Mom, I’m a nurse. I work at a hospital.”

“There’s an old saying about the shoemaker’s children going
barefoot,” her mother warned.

“Adrienne’s treating me.” She’d introduced her parents to her
friends when they’d visited the previous year. “I’m in excellent hands. Now go
back to your customers.”

“Well, okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

Only after she clicked off did Stacy realize she hadn’t
mentioned the ultrasound. But what would be the point?

There was no sense worrying about what it might reveal. She’d
already given her mom plenty to think about.

Chapter Thirteen

All day Friday, Stacy tried not to think about the
ultrasound. She tried to avoid thinking about it while assisting Cole in two
surgeries, and later while working with obstetrician Zack Sargent as he reversed
a patient’s tubal ligation so she could conceive a child with her new
husband.

Luckily for Stacy’s concentration, the conversation in the
operating room focused on the egg bank, where activity was booming. News of
Una’s pregnancy had brought in new infertility patients and donors.

“The program is growing faster than Jan expected,” observed
Zack. Being married to the director dovetailed with his interest in helping
infertile women. “It’s exciting.”

Aware that other members of the surgical team were watching her
reaction, Stacy merely nodded. Everyone seemed to know that she’d become a donor
and then gotten pregnant during her first cycle. But while most people had a
good idea who the father was, the gossip remained discreet. Even the
anesthesiologist was keeping his sharp tongue in check, since Cole had responded
to a few of his comments with quelling sarcasm.

She ventured to ask, “How many pregnancies has the egg bank
achieved so far?”

“Three more confirmed,” Zack replied.

Rod waggled his eyebrows as he tracked the patient’s vitals.
Regardless of what he might be implying, Stacy was glad he didn’t cite her as an
unannounced statistic. Anyway, she wasn’t a recipient, so she didn’t count.

“How’s the success rate?” After all, it wasn’t the total number
of pregnancies that mattered as much as how they compared to the number of
implantations.

“Excellent,” the surgeon responded. “Of course, since we
haven’t had any deliveries yet, it’s too soon to congratulate ourselves.”

Nevertheless, this was promising news for the program and the
families involved. Under other circumstances, Stacy would have felt a swell of
pride. Instead, she merely felt swollen. Although she doubted others—aside from
some of the obstetrical nurses—could see her weight gain yet, she’d added a few
pounds already.

It might be partly due to the ice cream she’d consumed. And the
popcorn.

At three-thirty, Stacy finished her shift and went home for a
nap. The ultrasound was scheduled for five forty-five. Cole had promised to
arrive there as early as possible. However, since Stacy understood how often
doctors ran late, she wasn’t surprised to find only Eva waiting for her at
Adrienne’s office.

“The tech scheduled for tonight got sick,” the other nurse
explained as she showed Stacy to an examining room.

“Don’t tell me we have to postpone.” That would be a huge
letdown. Why hadn’t they called?

“Dr. Cavill said it’s important to proceed as planned.” Eva
handed Stacy a hospital-type gown. “Leave this open in the front.”

“Then who...” Stacy didn’t bother to hide her reaction as she
realized who would be performing the scan. “Not Zora!”

Eva pushed her thick glasses higher on her nose. “Sorry. It’s
the best we could do.”

Stacy understood the predicament. Still, the prospect of being
touched by the woman made her skin crawl. Zora was sleeping with Stacy’s
ex-husband and had probably started sleeping with him while they were still
married. In a perfect world, the woman would have to wear a big red
A
for
adulteress
on her
chest.

You’re a nurse. Get over it.

Gritting her teeth, Stacy changed clothes, pressed the ready
button and sat on the examining table. Zora must have been waiting outside,
because a knock sounded instantly, and the tech entered with the ultrasound
equipment on a wheeled cart. After a hasty nod, the green-clad technician began
plugging in and setting up for the scan.

Although Stacy caught annoyingly frequent glimpses of Zora
around the hospital, she didn’t recall ever being alone in the same room with
her. At close range, she could smell the other woman’s light floral fragrance
and, this late in the day, a hint of perspiration. As hard as Stacy tried to
ignore Zora, she kept noticing details: her reddish-brown hair, shorter and
curlier than Stacy’s. Her rather thin face. Her unspectacular figure. What on
earth did Andrew see in her that had been lacking in Stacy?

Having finished her initial tasks, Zora gave Stacy an
apologetic glance. “I was the only tech available.”

“I heard.” She pressed her lips together.

“And at a time like this...” Zora swallowed. “I realize how
upset you must be.”

Why should Zora care? “It’s not that big a deal,” Stacy
muttered. “It’s just an ultrasound.”

“I meant, Andrew told me how strongly you didn’t want
children.” The woman squeezed gel onto Stacy’s abdomen. “Sorry if this feels
cold.”

Stacy was too stunned by her statement to care about the gel.
“He told you
what?
”

“The reason you split up.” The tech sounded bewildered.
“Because you didn’t want kids.”

“You have to be joking!” Stacy snapped. “We were planning to
start a family as soon as we saved enough money.”

The other woman paled. “That’s not what he...told me.” She
seemed to run out of breath.

Had Zora not been so obviously shaken, Stacy might have
believed she was faking. “Either you misunderstood or he lied.”

“I couldn’t have,” Zora responded. “Is it possible
he
misunderstood?”

“Not in a million years.”

A tap at the door cut her off. It was Cole, his expression
eager. “I’m not late, am I?”

Stacy tried to give him a welcoming smile, but her cheek
muscles had gone numb.

“We were just starting, Dr. Rattigan,” Zora told him, and bent
to her work.

Stacy wanted to focus on this moment, when she was about to see
her baby or babies for the first time, but Zora’s statement had shaken her. Why
had Andrew lied to the woman he’d fallen in love with? What kind of basis was
that for a marriage?

There was no way to make sense of this. Not that she could
figure it out, however hard she tried. Perhaps once it all sank in, she’d gain
perspective. She hoped so.

As the sensing device moved across her stomach, Stacy turned
her attention to the monitor.

* * *

S
TACY
AND
THE
TECHNICIAN
kept their gazes averted
as if he’d interrupted something. Cole folded his arms, wishing he understood
the vibrations in the room.

Once, during college, he’d stopped by a female friend’s dorm
room to lend her his study notes, and interrupted an all-girl gathering. Four
flushed faces had regarded him with varying degrees of discomfort. Later, his
friend had explained that they were playing a game called Truth or Dare, which
apparently consisted of them revealing embarrassing secrets.

Cole didn’t see the point of baring one’s soul for the
entertainment of one’s friends. True, last Monday he’d told Stacy about his
parents’ unorthodox arrangement, but that hadn’t been a game. Anyway, he doubted
she and the ultrasound tech had chosen this particular moment to exchange
confidences. He must be projecting his own mixture of excitement and concern
onto the women.

The technician, whose name tag read Z. Raditch, was moving the
paddle across Stacy’s abdomen while adjusting knobs on the monitor. “Isn’t that
a heartbeat right there?” Cole asked, and pointed.

“Yes, Doctor.” She cleared her throat. “It’s nice and
steady.”

One down.
His pulse quickened.

Stacy was staring at the screen, her expression unreadable. How
did she feel, seeing her baby? As breathless as he did?

Even though at this early stage it appeared as a squiggly shape
with a heart throbbing in the middle, everything was there. Cole knew that the
eyes and limb buds were starting to form, and within a few weeks the nose and
ears would become visible. Arms would grow and bend, and there’d be tiny toes
appearing on the feet. Internally, the organs were taking shape, obeying their
genetic instructions.

It was nothing short of miraculous. And to him, despite all his
training and experience, a revelation.

“I see another one.” The technician indicated a second sac, its
tiny heart throbbing like the first.

“Twins.” Stacy’s voice trembled.

Two children. Cole grasped her hand. Stacy squeezed his in
return.

Behind him, he felt the air stir as someone entered. From the
corner of his eye, he glimpsed Adrienne’s white coat and blond hair.

His instinct told him to move aside, since this was her
patient. Then he remembered that, rather than being a consulting physician, he
was the dad.

Cole’s throat tightened. These tiny, pulsating blobs of
humanity had a grandfather in Paris and a grandmother who’d forged her own path
as a surgeon.
And they might never know.

“Oh, my word!” The paddle gave a jerk, and the technician had
to stabilize it. “There’s a third one.”

“Triplets.” Stacy shivered.

“You okay?” Cole asked, his feeling of awe mutating into
unease. A multiple pregnancy often meant serious health hazards.

She lay there stiffly. “I guess.”

“Let’s make sure there aren’t any more,” Adrienne said.

“Yes, Doctor,” responded the tech.

Several tense minutes passed as the sensing device made
additional passes. Once, Cole thought he spotted a fourth sac, but it turned out
to be one of the original three.

He heard Adrienne’s breath of relief. “Three are more than I’d
like to see, but it could have been worse. I mean—well, you know what I mean.
The more babies, the greater the risk.”

“It’s manageable, though,” he said. “Given her general good
health.”

Adrienne quirked an eyebrow. Had he come across as too
clinical?

“A positive attitude benefits the patient,” Cole added.

“You’re right,” Adrienne conceded. “You’ll do great,
Stacy.”

She didn’t answer.

The tech cleaned the goo from Stacy’s stomach and retreated
from the room, wheeling her cart out. The name Raditch finally sank in. That was
the director of nursing’s last name, so this must be her daughter. Only she’d
been wearing a wedding ring—that meant daughter-in-law.

While Cole tried not to listen to rumors, he’d heard enough to
make the connection. No wonder Stacy seemed unusually tense. This was the
Jezebel who’d destroyed her marriage.

After Stacy got dressed, the three of them lingered while
Adrienne previewed what lay ahead. Extra testing, including a second ultrasound
in a few weeks, and the possibility of bed rest or hospitalization late in the
pregnancy. Stacy listened, asking few questions. As a nurse, she probably could
have delivered the spiel herself.

Finally, she said, “I guess this will make some family very
happy.”

You can’t mean that.

Surely she didn’t intend to go through this difficult,
dangerous process, to usher three beautiful babies into the world, and then give
them away.

Cole held his reaction in check. He’d promised not to
interfere. But it was killing him.

With the medical session finished, Adrienne and Stacy reviewed
their plans for tomorrow afternoon’s housewarming party. Stacy would be fixing
some of the food, while Adrienne was preparing the flower beds at Harper and
Mia’s new home for plants. They’d suggested those as gifts on the email
invitation.

At last Adrienne shook hands with the two of them. “I have
other patients waiting. We’ll keep a close watch on this pregnancy. I’m sure it
will turn out fine.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can provide, beyond the
obvious,” Cole interjected.

“You bet.”

Despite his offer of a ride, Stacy insisted on driving herself
home. As she pointed out, she’d brought her car, and she claimed that she was
handling the earthshaking news just fine.

“Pregnancy didn’t turn me into a china doll,” she assured
him.

“Well, it’s turning me into a worrywart,” he answered.

Stacy gave him a hug. “And a cute one.”

That made him feel better. Still, he wished she’d accept his
support.

Once he’d seen her off at the parking structure, Cole meandered
back into the hospital. The cafeteria’s advertised special tonight was Better
Than Your Mother’s Meat Loaf. Since Colette Rattigan’s meat loaf had come frozen
from the store, he was curious to find out how this tasted.

Passing the day care center, Cole halted as Owen Tartikoff
barreled through the door, a toddler tugging on each hand. “Sorry,” the
fertility chief told Cole with a grin. “They’re hungry.”

“Guess their mom’s got dinner ready, huh?” he asked
wistfully.

“No, she’s at choir practice.” The tall man nearly lost his
balance as the twins yanked him forward. “We’re eating at the cafeteria. Care to
join us? I’m kidding. Nobody in his right mind would volunteer for this.”

“That’s okay.” Cole fell into step beside them. “I’m tired of
eating alone.”

The twins’ dueling cries of “Da-Da!” and “Hungwy!” filled him
with a sense of wonder. When he’d arrived at Safe Harbor last summer, they’d
been five-month-old babies squawking and babbling in a double carriage. Now they
were chatty toddlers.

As they sat around a table, Cole noted that the boy had red
hair like his father, and the girl medium brown curls like her mother. He’d
heard the boy had been named Richard after the composer Richard Rodgers, and the
girl Julie after the heroine of the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical
Carousel.

Who would name the triplets? Cole wondered.

Quit torturing yourself.
He
returned his attention to the kids.

Julie was taking tiny spoonfuls, careful to avoid dropping a
single kernel of corn. Richard milled his food into a big pile and was barely
prevented from plopping his face into it by his father’s outstretched arm.