Читать книгу Mission Creek Mother-To-Be - Elizabeth Harbison - Страница 10

“A dare?” Melanie repeated, frowning. “Okay, I’m listening. What is it?” She looked like a gambler, waiting to see where the ball would settle on the roulette wheel.

Jared Cross sensed that this was a woman who was used to taking chances, who perhaps even relished them.

His mind strayed to the tabloid newspaper article he had in his file. His secretary had showed it to him, thinking it was cool that such a major celebrity was coming to the clinic. Jared hadn’t shared her enthusiasm, particularly once he’d read the article. Granted, it was a tabloid and he took everything he read with a grain of salt, but several facts were unrefuted: one, that Miss Tourbier’s lover was married, and two, that they’d behaved indiscreetly in front of the man’s children.

Of course, it had been a couple of years ago, according to the article, which described a book that was coming out detailing the affair. Perhaps she’d learned something from it. Perhaps she was more responsible now, at least about what she did or did not do in front of children.

That was the kind of thing he needed to determine.

He would be fair, despite her obvious and unfounded fear that he was against her.

He leaned toward her, elbows on his desk. This plan, he knew, would benefit everyone involved. “I challenge you to volunteer for, say, two weeks in the hospital day-care center.”

“Two weeks!”

He nodded.

“With ill children?” Her bravado was gone. She looked doubtful, and suddenly more vulnerable than he would have imagined possible. “Do you think I’m qualified to help out with them? I’d hate to say the wrong thing and make things worse.” She gave a half smile. “I have a tendency to talk before I think. Sometimes it gets me into trouble.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. He felt as if this was the first thing she’d said to him since coming in that wasn’t a previously devised closing argument. “No kidding.”

She gave him a withering look.

“Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. The day care is for the use of staff members, and sometimes the children or siblings of patients. There’s nothing particularly challenging about it. Like all kids, they just need care and kindness and attention.”

She still looked reluctant. “I’m sure I could handle it, but how would the parents feel about having me there? I’m sure they didn’t leave their kids with the idea that just anyone could come in and work with them.”

“I’m not asking just anyone,” Jared said, glad that she’d raised the issue. It showed she was thinking the right way. “I’m asking you. But if you don’t think you’re up to it—”

“Of course I’m up to it.” She bristled at the challenge, as he knew she would. “In fact, I think it sounds like fun.”

“Good.”

“But I know what you’re up to,” she added, jabbing a finger toward him in the air. “This isn’t a little dare, it’s a test. So I want to know your criteria for passing.”

“Look, Miss Tourbier, I’m not playing games. You can’t simply connect the dots and win a child.”

“Win a child?” she repeated incredulously. “Dr. Cross, even if you believe that’s what I’m here to do, I would imagine you could find a less crass way to express your feelings. You’re not only disparaging me, you’re demeaning the child I hope to have, and I will not stand for that. Besides—” she threw her arms up “—you’re the one devising this silly scheme to prove myself.”

“Miss Tourbier, I’m trying to help you, to give you a little taste of motherhood while there’s still time for you to decide it’s not what you want at this time.” He saw her objection coming and raised a hand. “If there’s even the possibility that you might decide that. I know you say there isn’t. If that’s so, then this is just a little practice for the real thing. No harm, no foul.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Tell me, do you make every prospective mother jump through these kinds of hoops? Is this how the hospital gets volunteers?”

He was quiet for a moment. “Every case is different. I don’t make this particular suggestion to everyone, although everyone does undergo a waiting period with counseling to make sure they’re making the right decision. Not every clinic does that. But not every clinic cares the way Mission Creek does. I suspect it’s our reputation for being cautious that brought you here.”

“Among other things,” she agreed. “But I still feel you have a prejudice against me particularly.”

“I’m not punishing you by asking you to work with the kids. I’m trying to help you, to allow you a taste of the real, everyday process of caring for a child. If it arms you with a little experience for your future child, I’ve done you a favor. If it gives you pause and causes you to wait on your plan, then I’ve done you and the child a favor.”

Melanie took a long breath, then expelled it. “That makes sense,” she admitted. “I just wish I believed you were even a tiny bit open-minded about my plan.”

He smiled. “I wish you were a little more open-minded about it, too.”

She looked at him for a moment, her blue eyes as light as the summer sky, but the expression in them dark. Dangerous. “This is not going to change my mind, you know.”

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t.” He had to admire her determination. Truth was, he had nothing against her personally. He merely knew what it was like to be an unwanted child. Fifteen years in the Drumoldry Orphanage had given him all the evidence he’d ever needed.

His birth mother had kept him for the first three years of his life. All he remembered of her was the smell of alcohol, a lot of yelling, and cockroaches crawling around the floors of the succession of cheap motels they slept in.

Oh, and the boyfriends. His mother had had a lot of them. He’d seen more than any kid should have to see.

It wasn’t just his own experience that made him so protective of childrens’ rights, it was the experiences of the children he’d known in Drumoldry: Mary Cassidy, whose father was unknown and whose mother lost a battle with cancer when Mary was the undesirable-to-adoptive-parents age of eleven; Bobby Miller Nordell who had come in at four years of age, then was returned at six by a couple who had managed to have their own children and didn’t want him any longer; Alex Jergen, who’d been left in the orphanage parking lot at age three and who stayed with them until he gave in to his depression at fifteen.

Jared knew too many stories just like theirs.

“It’s not personal,” Jared repeated. “It’s about the child. Please work with me on this so we can make sure we do what’s best for him or her. And what’s best for you. A couple of weeks isn’t a long time to wait when you’re talking about creating a new life.”

She studied him for a moment. He didn’t know what she saw there, but her expression softened suddenly. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. When can I start at the day-care center?”

“How about tomorrow morning? I’ll call and arrange it with them, let them know you’re coming. Say, nine o’clock?”

She nodded. “I’ll be there at nine sharp.”

She was late.

She hadn’t even opened her eyes until ten that morning. It was jet lag, of course. Melanie had never been a late sleeper and she certainly wasn’t lazy, but she knew it would be hard to convince Dr. Jared Cross of that.

How many points was this going to count against her?

She scurried around the bedroom of her rented apartment in The Aldon Towers, throwing on the most conservative, June Cleaverish clothes she could find. She gave her long dark hair the quickest once-over with a brush and pulled it back into a long pony-tail. Forget makeup; the kids wouldn’t care. Besides, the less conspicuous she was, the better. Remarkably, no one in this little town had taken much notice of her so far. She only hoped that would continue to be the case.

She pounded out to the street where her car was parked, wondering if there was even a chance that Dr. Cross wouldn’t discover she was late on her first day there.

Nah. He was probably there right now, she thought as she forced herself to keep to the twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit on Mission Creek Drive while the clock on the dashboard seemed to move at double speed. Ten-ten, ten-fourteen, ten-nineteen.

With luck she found a parking space in the street and hurried up the sidewalk, passing a magazine kiosk. The tabloid headline seemed to jump out and grab her by the throat: A Wild Heiress! And there was that stupid photo again—the one that managed to make it look as if she and Robert were in a very compromising position when, in fact, he had knocked into the edge of her chaise longue and fallen, or pretended to fall, right on top of her. In reality, the children had screamed with laughter at their father’s “clumsiness.”

In the photo, though, it looked as if the children were screaming with horror at what they’d found their father doing with Melanie.

Truth was, Melanie and Roberto had never done more than kiss, but there was no convincing the world of that. People didn’t want to believe that nothing salacious had actually occurred.

It just wasn’t as interesting.

Melanie ducked her head as she passed the vendor and kept a low profile as she dashed through the hospital door. Ten twenty-three.

By the time she’d asked at the information desk and followed the directions to the day-care center, it was ten twenty-eight and Melanie was out of breath from running through the maze of corridors.

The first person she saw was Dr. Jared Cross.

In fact, she ran smack into him as she entered the center.

“Oh, sorry!”

He helped her regain her footing, placing his hands on her shoulders until she’d righted herself. “Miss Tourbier,” he said in a voice better suited to an elementary school principal. “What a surprise.”

She couldn’t fault him for being angry, even if she didn’t like his attitude. “I’m so sorry I’m late. This really isn’t like me, honestly. My internal clock is all out of whack at the moment. Jet lag. I couldn’t get to sleep until three this morning and then I guess I slept through my alarm.” She tossed her hands up and tried to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”

“You have trouble when you don’t get enough sleep?” he asked.

Oh, give it a rest, she wanted to say. “No more than anyone else. I swear I’m never late for things,” she said, damning her luck. “This is very unusual for me.”

Before he could give her the kind of superior response she could see was coming, they were interrupted by a buxom woman in her midsixties, with pale hair piled atop her head.

“Dr. Cross, is this the young woman you told me about?”

“Yes, Emily, this is Melanie Tourbier. Melanie, this is Ms. Woods, the day-care director.”

“Call me Em,” she said, extending her hand and smiling warmly. “We don’t stand much on formality here.”

“Em, I’m so glad to meet you.” Melanie tried to ignore the chill from the icy Jared Cross next to her. “As I was explaining to Dr. Cross, I’ve just flown in from London—”

“And are your arms tired?” Em finished with a laugh. “I apologize. That kind of joke goes over big around here. You might as well get used to it. As for your being late, I’m aware that you’ve come from overseas and am frankly impressed that you were able to get yourself together as early as you did. Jet lag can be ferocious.”

Melanie’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I won’t be late again,” she promised sincerely.

“Please don’t fret about it.” Em lowered her voice for a moment before she added, “I have to say, you’re even more beautiful in person than you are in your pictures.”

Melanie thought of the pictures the woman might be referring to and blushed.

Em continued, “I saw photos in House and Home from a party you gave for the king of Jordan.”

“Oh,” Melanie breathed. “Yes, I remember those.”

“It looked so lovely. I hope our humble hospital doesn’t seem too dull to you.”

Jared cleared his throat.

Melanie ignored him. “So far, it’s been a real treat to be here. Almost everyone has been so kind and gracious.”

“Almost everyone here is like that,” Jared interjected. “Isn’t that right, Em?”

“Yes, indeed. And, Melanie, we’re so glad to have you here. It was awfully good of Dr. Cross to suggest it.”

Melanie turned guilelessly to the doctor. “Yes, wasn’t it?”

His mouth cocked into the smallest smile, and Melanie could have sworn she saw a moment of laughter in his eyes. “I can the see two of you are going to do just fine together. So if you’ll excuse me, I have appointments.” He leveled a sea-green gaze on Melanie. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”

Something shivered through her and made her heart pump faster when he looked at her. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I think it’s best.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“In the meantime, if you need to get in touch with me, you can call through the hospital operator. They’ll know how to find me.”

She wondered if he was hoping she’d call him in half an hour and tell him she’d changed her mind about everything. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. “I’ll be fine. So will the children. I promise that at the end of the day there will have been no fatalities.”

“That’s reassuring.”

She watched him nod to Em and head for the door. She might have reaffirmed her decision that he was just as cold as ice, if it hadn’t been for what happened right before he opened the door.

A small child, a boy with carrot-red hair, who seemed to move faster and more steadily than someone his size should, ran up and clung to Jared’s legs.

“Nooo!” the child cried, clearly trying to stop Jared from leaving.

Melanie expected Jared to brush him off in a pleasant but firm manner. Instead he reached down and swooped the child into the air.

“It’s a bird…it’s a plane…it’s Superkid!”

The child screamed with laughter.

Jared laughed, too, and Melanie’s breath caught in her chest. The laugh completely transformed his face. He had dimples for one thing, not childlike little dents but manly smile lines. She hadn’t noticed them before, although he’d smiled politely once or twice yesterday. But not real smiles like this. His eyes crinkled at the corners, making him look as kind as a favorite grandfather.

In fact, for just one crazy moment, Melanie could see him as a grandfather many years down the road. In her mind’s eye, she saw him, a little older, a little gray at the temples, reaching down in the same motion for a little boy with dark hair and green eyes….

“Okay, sport, I’ve gotta go,” Jared said, giving the child a final toss-and-catch before placing him gently on the floor.

“Nooo!” the little boy cried again, clutching at Jared’s pant leg. “Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go! Play ba!”

Jared knelt in front of the child and took his tiny hands in his. “How about if I come back and play ball after lunch?”

The boy chewed his lip, as if considering. “Lunch?”

“After lunch,” Jared said. “If you’re a good boy till then, we’ll play a little ball before I go back to work.”

The child’s face brightened. “I be good!”

Jared laughed. “Then I’ll see you after lunch.”

Em walked up behind Melanie and watched the scene with her. “That’s little Johnny Souffel. Last month he turned three and still hadn’t said a word. Dr. Cross has been treating him for just over four weeks and the difference, as you can see, is remarkable.”

Melanie was surprised. Granted, she didn’t know much about children, but she wouldn’t have believed that a month ago Johnny didn’t talk. “So Dr. Cross does something here other than family planning?” she asked Em.

“Oh, my, yes. Dr. Cross is the finest child psychiatrist in all of Texas. Maybe even in the whole United States.”

Melanie turned to Em. “Child psychiatrist? Are you serious?”

“Yes, indeed.”

She wanted to ask why on earth he was wasting his time and talent trying to talk people out of having children, but she didn’t know Em well enough for that. “So he just volunteers at the clinic or something?”

“Oh, yes, he’s done it for years. He’s a fierce child-welfare advocate. He’s done a lot of good work at the clinic, and arranged more than a few very successful adoptions.” Em clucked her tongue like a proud mother hen. “The children are so lucky to have him.”

Melanie watched little Johnny go over to an older boy and hold a block out to him. “You play?” he asked, and the older child took the block and set it on the pile he’d already arranged into a wall.

Then Johnny went over and knocked the whole thing down.

“You had a different impression of Dr. Cross, didn’t you?” Em asked gently.

Melanie began to object, but the director held up a hand and said, “A lot of people get the wrong impression when they first meet him.”

Melanie smiled. “I guess it’s fair to say that I didn’t think he was the kindly type when I first met him.”

Em chuckled. “I don’t think I’m telling tales out of school when I say that Dr. Cross has a more natural rapport with children than adults. But he’s a good man. I like him very much.”

Although Melanie couldn’t go so far as to agree with everything Em said, she nodded. “It certainly looks as if the children like him.”

“There’s no better gauge of character than that,” Em said, then let out an alarmed exclamation and called, “Allison, Paul, we do not pour water on each other’s heads!” She gave Melanie a quick, exasperated smile. “Excuse me. Duty calls. Why don’t you get to know the children?”

But how? Melanie wanted to ask, but the director had already gone to tend to the crisis. She’d simply approach one of the kids and get started that way. It wasn’t that big a deal. She’d chatted with dignitaries from all over the world; she’d been to state dinners at the White House and tea at Buckingham Palace.

Children couldn’t be that much more intimidating.

A nurse walked in holding a small toddler. She approached Melanie and shifted the child from one hip to the other. “Hi, I’m Linda Darrow,” she said. “Do you know where Em is?”

Melanie started to point to where Em had just been with Allison and Paul, but she was nowhere to be seen. “She was just here. I’m sure she’ll be back in a moment.”

Linda looked at her watch. “Oh, rats, I’m already late for my shift.”

“Is there something I could help you with?” Melanie asked, hoping she sounded more confident than she was.

The woman frowned. “Do you work here?”

“No. Well, yes, but only temporarily. You see, I—”

“Wait a minute. You’re Melanie Tourbier!” Linda gasped. She clapped a hand to her cheek. “Oh my gosh, I thought that was just a rumor!”

Melanie felt her face go hot. “You thought what was a rumor?”

“That you were here at the hospital.” The nurse shook her head. “I thought you looked familiar…You don’t look like your pictures.”

“Pictures can be manipulated. Believe me.”

“I know it,” Linda said. “My husband was at the airport last month and got a picture taken that looks just like he’s standing there with the President. Of course, it’s just a cutout.”

Melanie laughed.

“What on earth are you doing working in the nursery?” Linda asked, then lowered her voice. “Are you trying to escape the paparazzi?”

That was a fortunate by-product of being in South Texas. So far, the paparazzi didn’t know she was here. With any luck, they’d concentrate on more interesting people and not even look. Although she was modest about how interesting she was to the public, Melanie was realistic enough to know that, thanks to Roberto’s book, her being here to get artificially inseminated was newsworthy to the tabloids.

“Actually, Linda,” she said in a confidential tone, “I’m here for a medical procedure, but I don’t really want people to know I’m here, if I can avoid it.”

Linda made the sign of locking her lips and throwing away the key. “They won’t hear it from me. In fact, I’ll squelch the rumors if I can.”

Melanie smiled. “Thanks. Now, since I am working here for the moment, what can I do for you?”

“I need to leave Dan here for a couple of hours this morning.” Again she shifted her grip on the squirming toddler. “My mother normally takes him but she has a dental appointment. Em knows I have to spring this on her every once in a while, but usually I’m able to give her at least a little warning.”

“No problem,” Melanie said, hoping she was right and that it wasn’t going to be a problem for Em. “You just leave little Dan with me and I’ll see to it that he gets the very best care.”

“Thanks.” Linda shuffled the warm bundle to Melanie’s arms without hesitation. “My mom will be here by noon. Em knows her.” She glanced at her watch again and made a face. “Gotta run. It was nice meeting you, and don’t worry, mum’s the word!”

She rushed off, leaving Melanie standing there with the toddler in her arms, staring at her. He didn’t seem afraid, merely curious. His little face, just a few inches from hers, was so cute she nearly laughed.

“Hi there,” she said to him.

He blinked his large blue eyes, studying her silently.

“You want to play?” she asked.

He still didn’t answer. She wondered if he understood her.

“How about if we read a book?”

At this, his eyes lit up and he smiled. “Book,” he repeated, enunciating the k. “Book.”

Melanie felt nothing short of triumphant. “Yes, book!” They were communicating. It was a great feeling. “Let’s find a book.”

She carried him over to a shelf of picture books and leaned over to pick one. “Oh, Goodnight Moon,” she said, in a tone of reverence. She took the familiar favorite off the shelf and looked at the picture on the front. She hadn’t seen it in at least twenty years and probably longer, but she knew every tiny detail right down to the number of stars out the window.

One of the clearest memories she had of her mother was of her reading Goodnight Moon to her when she was small. “And goodnight to the old lady whispering ‘hush’…”

She carried the book and the child to a large comfortable rocking chair and sat down to read. The boy settled in against her, his blond head warm against her chest.

Melanie smiled down at the top of his head, then opened the book. “‘In the great green room,”’ she started, then stopped for a moment, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

The boy turned in her lap and touched her chin.

She reached up and twined the little fingers in hers. “‘There was a telephone and a red balloon and a picture of the cow jumping over the moon.”’

The boy pointed a pudgy little finger and moved it across the next page to the picture of the little mouse. Melanie laughed with sheer delight, remembering how she used to do that same thing herself. Find the mouse in every color picture. She supposed it was something all parents passed on to their children.

He moved his finger to the picture of the window. “Star,” he said, pointing at the little white specks.

“That’s right, stars.”

She read the rest of the book, stopping to linger over the pictures on every page. It gave her a funny feeling to see them again. In a way, it made her melancholy, remembering the warmth of her childhood, and then the sudden cold when she’d lost her parents. But it also lit within her an optimism that she could feel that warmth again, with her own child. The fire would be rekindled and she would keep it stoked this time.

She finished the book and closed it. “Should we read another one?” she asked Dan, setting the book aside.

“Book,” he said, but he stayed where he was, leaning comfortably against her. She loved the feeling so much she didn’t want to move.

He tipped his head back and pointed to her ear. “Star,” he said.

“Ear,” she corrected.

Dan was insistent. “Star.” He touched her diamond stud earring.

“Oh, I see. It looks like a star, yes.”

“Star,” he said again, nodding and pushing his finger against it.

“Hey, Dan,” a familiar voice said next to them. “Melanie. How’s it going?”

Melanie looked up, surprised to see Jared Cross again. Was he checking up on her already? He’d only been gone for about twenty minutes. “Fine,” she said in a clipped voice.

“Good.”

“Did you come back hoping I’d given up?” she asked, certain that he’d done exactly that.

“Star,” Dan said again.

“That’s right, honey, star,” she said, hoping Jared would notice the instant rapport she had with the child, the ease with which she dealt with him. “Well?” she asked Jared in a low tone.

He was looking at her strangely. Or so she thought. “What are you doing there, Dan?” he asked.

“He’s looking at my earring,” Melanie told him. “We just read a book and talked about the stars in it and now he’s telling me that my earring looks like a star.” She looked at Jared steadily. “Everything is under control.”

He frowned. “You’re not wearing an earring.”

“What do you mean I’m not wearing an earring? Yes, I am. Right here.” She lifted her hand to her ear and felt for it.

It was gone.

She looked at Dan, just as he raised his pinched finger and thumb to his mouth. The diamond caught the light for an instant and flashed.

“Oh, my God, Dan, no,” she said, panicked.

Unfortunately, the child also panicked at the tone of her voice and he jerked his hand into his mouth.

Melanie saw it just as it went in. “No!”

The child began to cry.

The blood drained into Melanie’s toes. “Dan, honey.” She tried to sound calm but she could clearly hear the mounting hysteria in her voice. “Let me have that back. Open your mouth, honey.”

The baby stopped wailing and poked his lip out, still sniffling softly.

“What’s going on?” Jared asked, leaning down. “What’s he got?”

“My earring,” she said a little shrilly. “A diamond earring.”

“He’s got your earring in his mouth?” Jared bent down to try to get it out.

She poked her finger into the child’s mouth and felt around. Nothing. “No,” she said, pulling a shaking hand back and looking at Jared in terror. “Not anymore. He swallowed it.”