The Child Who Changed Them, page 6
Yeah, never again.
“You’re moving to LA.” The words came across as mere clarification.
“I start there four weeks from tomorrow. I’d like to get an apartment sooner than that, though, just a temporary landing place until I find a home to buy.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to be a homeowner.” He couldn’t read her. Didn’t like that. And didn’t remember a time when he’d felt that way in the past.
“We don’t really know much of anything about each other,” he reminded her. Funny how that hadn’t stopped him from thinking he knew her well. Yes, ironies abounded.
Heather hadn’t been the only woman with whom he’d jumped feet first into a relationship, but she was the one who’d hurt the most. Until Wendy, of course. His ex-wife had been as eager as he was to marry quickly, in spite of them only knowing each other a couple of months. They’d been living together after one. They were both professionals at that point. Had known what they wanted.
And when it turned out that he wasn’t able to provide what she wanted most—a biological child of her own—she’d divorced him and found someone who could.
And here was Elaina—a woman who’d slipped past all of his hard-built defenses, in spite of them sticking to their “no friendship, only sex” rule. Breaking up with him. And then thinking she was pregnant with his child, but still not wanting to start anything with him.
The ironies were almost comical.
Except that no one was laughing.
* * *
On Monday, Elaina met with Dr. Morgan, Brooklyn’s pediatrician, with Greg present. On Tuesday, she helped Greg present their charting concerns to administration. They wouldn’t be privy to results. It was the way things worked. You did your job. You didn’t become attached. Most particularly when you worked with patients who were not under your direct care. She managed it all without exchanging a single personal word with Greg. She was professional, gracious. And remained absent.
She went to Cassie and Wood’s for dinner, spending almost the entire time on the floor with Alan, stacking blocks that he’d knock down and then, each time, look at her with surprise and laugh out loud.
She wasn’t telling anyone she was pregnant. Not until she could explain how it happened.
And she wasn’t looking at nursery furniture or doing anything in the unused guest room in her home, in terms of painting or even planning. Not until she knew who the father of her child was.
The baby was coming.
It was hers and she was already in love with it.
She just wanted to know the identity of its father before fully accepting her changed reality.
And as for Greg...he’d made his decision one way or the other. Yes, he’d convinced her there was a good chance the baby wasn’t his. That there’d been a gross mistake made at The Parent Portal. But it was possible that he was wrong. There were many things medical science could not explain.
A sperm slipping past the aggressors out to kill it could be one of them.
He was moving, regardless, even though Los Angeles was not all that far. Had already quit his job in Marie Cove by giving his notice. Had given up his apartment.
The message couldn’t be any clearer to her.
No matter what the coming paternity test had to say, he was going.
She had to be fine with that. Logically, she was completely good with his decision. She’d broken up with him for good reason, even if her traitorous emotions didn’t always comply with logic.
It was those same needy emotions that had prompted her to rely on Wood for emotional support for so long, rob him of years of his life by holding on to him so tightly. By refusing to get out and live her own life. True, neither of them had had other family...so Wood had made it easy for her to lean on him.
She wasn’t leaning anymore.
She might not have chosen to be impregnated by either Greg or some anonymous donor—pray God it wasn’t a husband whose sperm had been meant for his wife only—but she had chosen to be impregnated. And to raise her family as a single parent.
* * *
Over the next two weeks, to keep her sanity as the unknown consumed any thought of her future plans, she picked up a couple of extra shifts. And worked on the continuing education requirements required of all doctors to maintain licensing, online at night. Having made it through Peter’s death and her own paralysis, she was well versed on how to keep her mind occupied to hold the demons at bay.
And unless necessary for work, she stayed away from Greg. Missing him more than she had when she’d first broken up with him, promising herself it was just because of the baby, wanting to believe herself. Succeeding sporadically.
She cried a lot. Quietly. Alone in her suite at a house that she loved and needed to fill with love. At night, when she was done with her responsibilities, she gave herself half an hour before sleep to peruse rescue dog sites, reading about individual furry friends needing homes. But she hadn’t landed on anything—mostly because she couldn’t choose from among several that she wanted. Saying yes to one meant saying no to others, and she couldn’t decide who to say no to.
When she called The Parent Portal to make her appointment for a paternity test, she spoke directly with Dr. Miller and asked that the clinic contact Greg and schedule his part in things with him. A quick cheek swab was all he had to provide. No reason for them to need to be at the clinic at the same time.
She didn’t explain why she wanted the test. If Greg wasn’t the father, she’d be all over the clinic to find out who was responsible for her current predicament—both medically and paternally. But unless Greg wasn’t the father, there was no reason to do anything that could harm the reputation of the renowned clinic.
Two days after she went in for the blood test, she had a call from the clinic, letting her know that the results were in. She’d expected to hear them over the phone, but was told that Dr. Miller wanted to see her.
That struck fear in her heart.
She was a doctor, too. She knew that when a patient was asked to come in for consultation over test results, that usually meant there was something unexpected to discuss.
Was it possible that she wasn’t pregnant after all?
The thought was quickly followed by a mental admonition to calm down. If she wasn’t pregnant, then she would soon be injected with Peter’s sperm, as planned, and hopefully get pregnant.
She waited out the strong current of disappointment that coursed through her in spite of her self-reproof. Two weeks of falling in love wasn’t just going to be swept away as though it hadn’t been.
So...had the clinic discovered, on their own, that there’d been a mistake on their part? Had she, like Greg thought, been inseminated with sperm meant for another woman?
The Parent Portal was unique in that it required all sperm donors to sign legally filed documents stating that they were willing to have their identity known to their recipient or child if a request was put forth. They’d agree to allow continued contact with the child on a limited basis, if requested. In return, all recipients signed paperwork allowing the same rights to the donors. Therefore, if she had gotten pregnant by someone other than Greg, she’d know relatively quickly who the donor was. Panic wasn’t going to change anything, so she fought it with all she had.
Driving to the clinic an hour later, still early on that Monday morning as she’d been at work doing a scan before seven, she recalled her paralysis recovery. She flashed back to working on a nonelectric treadmill, her hands clutching the rails, finally getting one foot to move inches forward, the focus it took making her sweat, the pain...
She’d come too far, had fought too hard, to give up. And Wood had sacrificed too many years of his life to see her through. She would live a life worthy of that sacrifice. Worthy of his and Cassie’s love. Of Peter’s memory.
The reminders gave her strength right up until she stepped into the clinic’s reception area and saw Greg sitting there, watching the door.
As though looking for her. Her heart gave that odd jump, a flip she could physically feel, as their eyes met. She didn’t even check in before walking over to him.
“What are you doing here?” She managed to keep her voice down, in deference to another woman seated across the room, doing something on her phone.
“Cheryl Miller called.” He was answering the question her mind had already sped past. “Said that she had the results.” He wasn’t in scrub pants. And looked...different...in jeans and a black, short-sleeved cotton pullover and black leather slip-ons. Different and...good. Really good.
He was about to find out whether or not he was infertile, as he believed. If he was, would it hurt him all over again? Or just confirm what he’d known all along? Did he hope, even a little bit that...
“I’m the patient. Why would she call you?” she asked, standing there looking down at him, wishing she could will her emotions into a tidy corner of her life so they didn’t keep getting in her way. Sending her on nonproductive detours that distracted from her purpose.
“I asked her to do so when I met with her to get swabbed.” He was so calm. And being nice, too. As though he was completely in control. Feeling no more than he would if he were the doctor meeting the patient, not the other way around. “However,” he continued, “I didn’t realize that she’d call us both in at the same time.”
Bring them both in at once... Did that mean...that had to mean... Why else would Greg need to be there?
He must be the father of her child!
She had no idea how he’d feel about that. And was pretty sure she should have some misgivings about it, too.
“Dr. Alexander, Dr. Adams...” A medical technician she didn’t know stood at the door leading back to the examination rooms, calling to them both.
Glancing over at the receptionist desk, she noticed Christine Elliott Howe, the clinic’s founder, standing there, nodding to her. Peter’s former employer during his residency, she had been a distant friend over the years, the kind she always knew she could call but never did, because it brought up memories that hurt too much.
Christine wasn’t smiling. Two doctors...she supposed that was enough of a shift from normal routine in a medical facility to merit some notice. They were treating two of their own.
By the time Elaina was shaking her head over that one, she and Greg, who’d walked separated by the technician, were shown into Dr. Miller’s office—a cluttered space with a big desk, some armchairs, a couch and a flat-screen TV. The lived-in feel gave the impression that the ob-gyn spent a great deal of time in the somewhat large room.
Dr. Miller stood from one of the armchairs as they were shown in, motioning toward the couch. Elaina sat on one end, Greg on the other.
They hadn’t ever even talked about families and children, their own or anyone else’s, before all of this had happened. They’d certainly never planned to have a family together. They weren’t even a couple.
Suddenly the nights they’d spent in each other’s arms seemed cheap. Wrong, somehow. As though they’d played with fire without thinking about getting burned.
It hadn’t been that way. She knew that. But sitting there, like she was in the principal’s office...panicky and bordering on frighteningly excited, too... Elaina didn’t feel like herself at all. Her whole life had become a surreal incident in time.
“I wanted you both here together because I understand from my conversation with you, Greg, that you expected Elaina to need good care and understanding when she finds out that you aren’t the father of her child. In fact—” Cheryl, who’d been addressing Greg, turned to Elaina “—you specifically requested that I see to it that Elaina got the best care.”
Elaina glanced at him. He’d specified that?
A sudden warmth flooded the cold that had begun to seep through her. She shivered.
“Elaina, on the other hand, came in for blood work without requesting any consultation,” Dr. Miller looked at Greg now as she spoke.
“Because she’s certain that the baby is mine,” Greg explained, nodding.
“The baby is yours.”
She’d known it! Yes! Oh, God, a thousand times yes! Elaina maintained an outer calm as inside she exploded with immediate joy. She wallowed in it. For the thirty seconds it took her to realize that she wasn’t alone in the room. In her life.
To realize that, officially, now this child would never just be hers, as she’d originally planned it would be.
But she then looked at Greg and saw the shocked expression he wore. There was no joy there—no sorrow or anger, either. He seemed to be truly in shock and those waves reverberated through her, too.
“I thought it best that the three of us talk through this together, or at least to make the conversation possible if either of you’d like to have it.”
Elaina glanced at Dr. Miller and then back at Greg.
The doctor was studying Greg. But he didn’t seem to notice either one of them. Standing, he excused himself, and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.
Chapter Seven
As soon as he’d stepped out into the hallway, Greg knew he’d made a fool of himself. Made a mistake. His fight-or-flight instinct had kicked in when he’d heard the news, and he’d flown.
Turning, reaching for the doorknob, thinking he’d go back, he’d had a flash vision of Elaina sitting on the couch, of Dr. Miller in her chair—both of them watching him, expecting things from him, expecting a rational doctor facing medical news, and he’d flown again, bolted for the door that would lead him out into the waiting room—and from there to the exit that would get him out into Monday morning’s hustle and bustle out on the streets of Marie Cove, where he could breathe gulps of air, all of it that he wanted.
Yes, he could get in his car, drive to work, and...
Do what?
He wasn’t on shift.
He’d figure that out when he got to it. First one door. Then the next.
Sunshine bore down upon him as he emerged outside. A hint of warmth in a breezy spring day. Blue skies and brightness eased the steel around his chest. Breath was a glorious thing. Passing a stone bench, he considered sitting for a sec. Strode on past, his body too filled with energy to slow long enough to allow him any other choice.
He could consider that there’d been a DNA mix-up. Medical mistakes happened! He knew. He’d learned that lesson. Was it coming back to remind him?
Or...perhaps...he needed to slow down a moment and listen.
Elaina had tried to tell him, multiple times.
He’d had to believe she’d been wrongfully fertilized. Which he should have seen as the incredible long shot it was.
Still, it would have been easy enough to investigate. Had there even been another woman being fertilized that day Elaina had been at the clinic seven weeks before? Was that person now pregnant?
As he was not a patient of the clinic he had no right to that information.
But Dr. Miller did. And if she had any suspicions at all, she’d have followed up. As would Christine Elliott Howe. She’d been there that morning. Greeting him by name as he’d come in.
She’d known.
They’d all known.
Either there was some mind-exploding conspiracy going on, and a helluva lot of medical malpractice, including the addition of a botched DNA test, or...
He was going to be a father?
He’d been around the parking lot twice. Elaina still had not appeared.
Probably talking to Dr. Miller about being pregnant by the wrong man.
Maybe about being pregnant by a man who was losing his marbles.
He was going to be a father? Him?
He’d watched the chain of command on the swab himself, as far as he could go with it. That DNA had come from him.
Seriously, one tiny little swimmer, in an ocean of thousands, had managed to survive the massacre that went on daily in his body, swim upstream, get past a foreign device meant to prevent it from entering a no-trespassing zone, meet up with an egg, and get it on?
What were the odds?
What an incredible little fella. He should be proud of that one.
Standing by Elaina’s car, a black, newer-model, high-end, small SUV, he still realized he was failing to grasp the magnitude of what he’d just been told. He heard the words in his mind. Repeated them. And then got lost.
Why would he have been able to do it for Elaina in that moment? She didn’t even want him. He hadn’t been able to do that for Wendy...
He knew Wendy had left him because of how their life goals began to diverge, but he also knew the root of those changes between them had grown from his infertility. Her need to have her own biological child had bloomed, as had his constant trying to make things better for her. He’d driven her nuts with his trying.
But if he’d been able to give her the child she’d wanted...
And now here was Elaina...breaking up with him and then getting his child?
His child?
His child?
He was going to be a father.
Good God. He was going to be a father.
Finding his own vehicle, Greg got in. Drove to the beach. Parked facing the ocean. And let the tears roll.
* * *
Elaina worked her shift later that day, focusing on the patients who needed her, consulting with doctors and nuclear med technicians who required her attention. On her lunch break, she went to the cafeteria where she and Greg had shared most of the meals they’d eaten together, chose from the four food groups, going heavy on the fruit and salad, and headed back upstairs.
