Читать книгу The Doctor's Accidental Family - Jacqueline Diamond - Страница 12

Chapter Three

“You don’t have to allow relatives in the delivery room if you’d rather be alone.” Nick regarded young Mr. and Mrs. Wang sympathetically.

The wife, seven months pregnant, sat on the examining table in a skimpy hospital gown, while her husband shifted uneasily from foot to foot. Nick would have preferred to have this discussion in a less sterile setting, but he could hardly invite them into his office, which was a former storage closet.

In the week since he’d arrived at Safe Harbor, he’d adjusted fairly well to the overnight schedule. It was harder to double as counselor and lifestyle coach during his two hours of evening consultations, but these appointments brought in extra income and helped him build a patient roster for the future.

“Do we have to let them into the waiting room, either?” asked the husband. “Her mother drives me crazy.”

“And his mother drives me crazy,” added his wife.

“I can issue orders to keep family members in the main lobby,” Nick suggested. “It would be simpler if you talked to them honestly, though.”

“They’d be horrified.” Mrs. Wang shook her head, brown hair tumbling around her shoulders. “I have a PhD in business administration, but around my mother and mother-in-law, I feel about five years old.”

“They always cite Chinese traditions,” said her husband. “I think they make them up just to torment us.”

“Outline your reasons for desiring privacy during the birth,” he said. “Then share them in writing so your parents have a chance to think them over before reacting. And don’t forget that family can be an important source of love and support for new parents.”

The couple thanked Nick for his advice, and he urged them to contact him with any further questions.

Although he struggled to look wise and fatherly, he felt like a phony.

When Bethany had delivered Caleb, she and her parents hadn’t allowed Nick anywhere near her. As for his mother, under the circumstances, there’d been no question of inviting her to the hospital, but he wouldn’t have done so, anyway. His mom could be charming, but also self-centered and unpredictable. Still, she’d adored her grandson, although she’d died of lung cancer a year after Caleb’s birth.

For all her flaws, at least his mom had stuck around during Nick’s childhood. His father, who experienced severe mood swings, had kept the household in turmoil until he left for good when Nick was ten. His later, sporadic attempts at reconciliation had ended in disappointment when he failed to appear as promised or talked nonstop, rambling from one topic to another. Yet he’d refused to accept treatment for bipolar disorder.

By the time the Wangs departed, it was nearly eight, and he had to report to the hospital next door. Nick checked the text messages in his phone. According to the charge nurse in L&D, three women had been admitted. All had been seen by obstetricians and labor was progressing normally, with none close to delivering.

He could afford a few minutes to relax. With the Wangs receiving follow-up instructions from evening nurse Lori Sellers, Nick finished entering his notes in the computer and went to drink what would be the first of many cups of coffee tonight. Caffeine kept him alert, but he’d become inured enough to it that he could fall asleep instantly whenever he had a chance to lie down.

In the break room, he found one of his suitemates, Dr. Jack Ryder, eating a slice of cake left by the daytime staff. “Surprised to see you here this late,” Nick said, eyeing the last piece set out on the counter.

“I had to perform emergency surgery this afternoon. It put me behind. I offered to let patients return this evening rather than reschedule for a later date, and some of them did.” Jack, a handsome fellow oblivious to his impact on the hospital’s female staff, indicated the remaining slice. “Help yourself. There’s no one else here. Adrienne hightailed it home to relieve her babysitter.”

Dr. Adrienne Cavill-Hunter, who’d formerly held down the overnight shift and still maintained evening hours, was married, with a six-year-old son. Nick appreciated sharing an office with fellow parents; Jack had a four-month-old daughter with his wife, a surgical nurse.

As he dug into the cake, Nick considered asking his colleague’s advice about his uneasy feelings regarding the Carrigans. The puppet show on Saturday had been fun, and Caleb had snuggled happily with his father at the ice-cream parlor they’d visited afterward. Elaine’s nephew and his wife, a couple in their late thirties, had proved likable, as had their little girl.

Yet, twice the couple had changed the subject when Caleb mentioned his grandparents. While Nick didn’t wish to act paranoid, his instincts told him the Carrigans were keeping him in the dark about something.

However, he decided against raising the subject with Jack. His fellow obstetrician didn’t know the people involved, nor did he necessarily have any relevant experience.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Jack’s statement broke into his thoughts.

“Shoot.”

“It’s about the office situation. Adrienne believes it’s too early, but if we wait, we may lose our chance.” Jack stuffed his paper plate into the trash.

“Too early for what?” Nick wasn’t keen on hospital politics. Still, he felt a natural affinity for the colleagues who, in some cases, had to work odd schedules and share inadequate office space due to overcrowding.

“The Porvamm.” At his blank reaction, Jack explained, “That’s our nickname for the Portia and Vince Adams Memorial Medical Building.”

That name rang a bell. “The dental building.”

His colleague perched on the arm of a couch. “It’s got five stories. You’d think there’d be plenty of room to go around, right?”

“Sure.” Nick peered into the staff refrigerator on the chance that there might be additional, overlooked treats. No such luck.

“The upper floors will house labs, operating suites and so on for the men’s fertility program,” Jack told him. “We all hope there’ll still be space for the rest of us, but we can’t assume. We’re forming a committee to encourage Dr. Rayburn to set aside a floor for ob-gyns, pediatricians and neonatologists. Are you in?”

“I’d like to know more about it.” Caution paid, especially for a guy who’d been on staff only a week.

“Okay.” Jack cleared his throat. “You aren’t close to your cousin, are you?”

“That would be an understatement. Why, is he involved?”

The other doctor nodded. “Considering that he just arrived in November, he’s already throwing his weight around plenty. Buzzing in Cole Rattigan and Mark Rayburn’s ears about making sure there’s room for future urology fellows.”

“He’d rather leave offices empty than fill them with current doctors who’re already overcrowded?” That sounded like Marshall. The spoiled product of a privileged upbringing, he looked down his nose at anyone who wasn’t part of his group or, in this case, his medical specialty.

“So you’re with us?”

Nick tapped his watch. “Listen, I’m interested, but if I don’t get moving, the L&D nurse is going to send out a search party.”

“Speaking of parties, you should get better acquainted with the rest of the staff.” Jack accompanied him toward the hall. “We’re having a get-together Saturday afternoon in honor of my uncle’s recent marriage. Anesthesiologist Rod Vintner. You’ve met him?”

A mental image formed of a slender man wearing a fedora, his short graying beard and mustache neatly trimmed. “Dr. Rayburn introduced us. He’s a funny guy.”

“Hilarious, mostly at my expense.” Jack smiled. “I’ll email you the details.”

“Thanks. I’d enjoy that.” Nick hadn’t yet promised to join their committee, but he hoped the invitation stemmed from more than simple politicking. And he was eager to widen his circle of acquaintances.

Although he’d grown up and lived until recently only a half hour’s drive from here, most of his old friends had marched down the aisle and now socialized as couples.

When it came to dating, Nick had learned caution from his disastrous relationship with Bethany. Since his move, the only woman who’d caught his eye was Zady. How frustrating to run into her not only at the Harbor Suites but also at the supermarket and around their residential motel, and he couldn’t do more than say hello.

Even at a distance, he noticed appealing quirks, like her habit of mumbling to herself and then halting with a guilty start. And the ironic slant of her mouth when she regarded him promised peppery rejoinders—if only she’d talk to him.

All the more irksome that he was avoiding her because of his cousin. Nick had learned from Adrienne about a rumor going around the hospital that he’d abandoned his pregnant girlfriend and their son. Only Marshall would spread such a dishonest tale. And although tempted to broadcast the fact that his cousin was a lying snob, Nick had simply told his suitemates the truth and left it at that.

Once people got to know Nick better, it should be easier to counter Marshall’s attempts to undermine him. Working nights made that difficult, so the invitation for Saturday was appealing. With his regular visit to Caleb scheduled for Sunday, Nick should have a pleasantly busy weekend.

His thoughts shifted to the evening ahead. Each time he held a newborn in his hands, a sense of wonder swept over him. What more could a man ask than to participate in miracles all night?

Humming tunelessly, he quickened his pace toward the elevator.

* * *

HAD THERE EVER BEEN a cuter baby boy in the history of the world? Zady wondered as she gazed down at her nephew, Orlando, snuggling in her arms and wrapped in a hand-crocheted blanket. Two months old and already he could yawn and gurgle with the best of them.

Guiltily, she glanced up at Karen, who was greeting guests. Although Zady had fulfilled her responsibility of setting up the dining room buffet table, she felt as if she should be doing more. Instead, she hadn’t been able to resist when her sister laid Orlando in her arms.

The landlady seemed oblivious to Zady’s guilty vibes. No one else glared at her, either. Lucky and Zora were welcoming friends, while Rod’s daughters, Tiffany and Amber, circulated with trays of appetizers. At thirteen, Tiffany showed signs of developing into a beauty, while eleven-year-old Amber retained a childish playfulness. As they passed their father, Rod helped himself to the treats, proclaiming it his duty to serve as official taster.

Standing in the den of Karen’s house, Zady reveled in the waves of love that surrounded her. Unfortunately, the joyous feeling faded at the memory of a blow she’d received this morning.

She’d figured she was completely over Dwayne, her faithless ex-boyfriend. Sure, he could be devilishly sexy, but she’d been a fool to stick around when he kept postponing marriage and children, pointing out that he already had three from his former marriage.

Then he’d cheated on her, impregnated his girlfriend and crowed about becoming a father again. Zady had finally found the strength to dump the guy and, along with him, the decade she’d invested in him.

But this morning, a mutual acquaintance had posted pictures of Dwayne’s newborn baby son online.

How could a kid with such rotten genes be so adorable? Not as cute as Orlando, of course, but still... Babies were deceptive. Men were deceptive. Hearts were the worst of all.

Tears stung Zady’s eyes. Here it was, her thirtieth birthday, and she had neither a husband nor a baby. Worse, her gut told her it was largely her fault for making really bad choices.

She could use a friend to pour out her troubles to, but everyone here really belonged to her sister, and despite their renewed closeness, Zady didn’t feel comfortable unloading her misery on Zora. As for Zady’s closest friend from up north, a fellow nurse named Alice Madison, she now lived with her husband and baby in the Los Angeles area, but responded to Zady’s communications with brief, impersonal messages.

Whatever the knack was for developing intimacy, it seemed to have bypassed Zady entirely. If only she could find a guy she related to easily, who didn’t try to take advantage of her. A guy something like Nick...but with better references.

Keeping her face averted to hide her distress, Zady slipped from the den into the kitchen. Mercifully, it was empty, but any minute someone might wander in, so she carried little Orlando into the pantry. If anyone spotted her, she’d pretend he’d been fussing and needed a spot of quiet.

Sorry for the slander, she mentally wafted to her nephew. Oh, heck, why bad-mouth an innocent child? She’d claim she’d come to fetch a can of olives.

As she’d anticipated, footsteps tromped into the kitchen. “Why shouldn’t I have invited him?” That might be Jack Ryder’s voice, Zady thought, and wondered who he was discussing. “It’s Rod’s wedding reception, and he doesn’t care.”

Care about what? She nearly asked the question aloud. Maybe she should reveal her presence before the conversation went any further.

However, a woman had begun speaking. “This gathering isn’t just for Rod and Karen.” That must be Jack’s wife, Anya. A bubbly surgical nurse, she had once shared an apartment with Zora. “It’s also Zora and Zady’s birthday party.”

What does this have to do with us? Despite the rudeness of listening from the pantry, curiosity held Zora in place.

“Fortunately, it’s a big house and people can socialize with whomever they like,” Jack retorted cheerfully. “Now, where’s that dip?”

“I’m guessing in the refrigerator.” The heavy door opened. “Here it is, just like Karen said. Now, I still don’t understand why you invited—”

“So we can get better acquainted.” Jack sighed. “Okay, truth is, I suggested he join our committee. We need someone who won’t be afraid to stand up to Marshall.”

What committee and how did this involve Marshall? Zady owed it to her doctor to discover what might be afoot. And her curiosity was growing by the minute.

“The sooner you present your case to the administration, the less chance of this whole business turning into some ridiculous feud,” Anya continued.

“If Marshall weren’t so greedy about office space, we wouldn’t have to fight him on it,” Jack grumbled. “Reserving two entire floors for urologists!”

Now Zady understood the issue. But the dental building had been acquired specifically to expand the men’s program. Aside from the fact that he was currently forced to share a suite with several other doctors, Marshall had every right to insist that the Porvamm be used as intended. She wouldn’t hesitate to tell Jack that, either, except that a nurse, especially a new one, would be unwise to wade into doctors’ politics.

In her self-absorption, Zady had almost forgotten the infant in her arms. With timing that bordered on sabotage, Orlando let out a squawk.

“Hey! Is someone in the pantry?” Male footsteps approached.

Elbowing open the door, which she’d left slightly ajar, Zady emerged. “I was in here fetching, um...” What had she planned to use as an alibi? Her brain refused to cooperate.

Anya paused in removing plastic wrap from a bowl of onion dip, her face a study in confusion. Her tall, handsome husband showed no such uncertainty. “You were spying!”

Zady’s mother had always said that the best defense was a good offense. “I needed a moment alone, that’s all. How should I know you guys would barrel in here and start discussing state secrets?”

Jack scowled but cast a guilty glance toward the dining room, from which drifted the hum of conversation. “I suppose I shouldn’t have brought it up with people around, but I never imagined Marshall’s nurse would be lurking with big ears.”

“What if Lucky had heard?” Zady retorted. “He works with Cole, and I’m sure they don’t keep secrets from each other. Or from Dr. Davis.”

“She’s right,” Anya chimed in.

Thank you. Zady decided she shared her sister’s high opinion of Anya.

“Will you rat on us when he gets here?” Jack demanded.

“Marshall’s coming today?” Zady hadn’t expected to run into her boss.

“I assume so. Surely Lucky invited him.” Zora’s husband, who’d recently earned a master’s degree in nursing administration, was helping Dr. Rattigan and Dr. Davis coordinate the growth of the men’s program. “You shouldn’t blab everything to him.”

“How would you like it if your nurse kept you in the dark?” she asked.

“He’d hate it.” Anya caught her husband’s wrist. “Why don’t we end this discussion before the whole world gets involved?”

“They soon will be anyway,” Jack muttered.

Great. Zady would rather not make enemies, she reflected as the couple exited with the dip. Perhaps she should ask Zora’s opinion before informing Marshall. But how unfair to lay that burden on her twin.

Also, Zady had vowed to forge her own path, and this struck her as the kind of tough choice she shouldn’t shrink from. Loyalty to Marshall mattered. Too bad it stood between her and his cousin, whom she’d run into twice this week, at the supermarket and in the laundry room.

Each time, her traitorous brain had reacted with a snap of admiration for his tousled good looks. It would be a relief when he or she, or both, found a better place to live.

Orlando, who’d been fussing softly, quit beating around the bush and let out a wail. Instantly, nursing supervisor Betsy Raditch appeared. “I’ll take him,” she volunteered, holding out her arms.

Since grandmotherly Betsy doted on babies, Zady relinquished her nephew without a qualm. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Beaming, the older woman carried off her tiny charge.

In breezed Tiffany and Amber to refill their trays from an array of hors d’oeuvres on the table. With Orlando gone, Zady wished for a task to focus on, but the girls already had the serving job covered.

As if on cue—or perhaps due to the often-rumored psychic link between twins, which had never been much in evidence until now—Zora popped in. “Let’s open presents!”

“I love watching people open presents,” Amber enthused. The deaths of her mother and stepfather in a car crash last fall had left a mark, but she and her sister were adapting well to sharing a home with their father and his new wife.

“Your parents should go first.” Zora assumed the pile of wrapped packages in the living room was mostly for the newlyweds.

“Oh, they requested no more gifts. They already received a ton of stuff.” A grin lit Zora’s face. As usual these days, she radiated happiness. “Enjoy, sis! Those are for us.”

“Those are for us?” Zady asked simultaneously, unintentionally matching her twin’s phrasing.

“You guys are cute.” Tiffany gazed from Zady to Zora. “You’re like reflections in a mirror.”

“I’m chubbier these days,” Zora said cheerily. “Breastfeeding and all.”

“And you have more freckles,” Zady teased. That had been the subject of arguments between them during their teen years.

“She smiles more, too,” Amber noted.

“She deserves to.” Zady draped an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Okay, let’s—” She flinched as the doorbell rang.

That must be Marshall. With an unpleasant jolt, she realized that telling him about the plot might spoil everyone’s mood. Best to get it over with quickly, like ripping off an adhesive bandage. “I’ll answer that.”

“Why you?” Zora inquired.

“Because I’m faster,” she retorted, and took off for the front of the house.

No one else had responded, probably because the front door stood partly open and most guests just walked in. But Marshall had a more formal personality. No wonder he remained on the porch, an appealing figure with his dark, brooding air.

Zady stopped short. She’d done it again. This wasn’t Marshall, it was Nick.

What was he doing here? And why did she experience a rush of warmth when his startled gaze met hers?

He cleared his throat when he saw her. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

“I had no idea you were coming, either.” Despite the many reasons why he was bad news, Zady nearly added, “I’m glad you came.”

She was saved—or thrown under the bus—by Jack’s sudden appearance at her side. “She knows about our plans,” he told Nick. “And she intends to spill it to Marshall, so don’t trust her.”

“That’s the last time I ever hide in a pantry,” Zady blurted, and marched off, leaving Jack to show Nick around. Not even the sight of her sister gesturing toward a pile of presents could restore her high spirits.

Well, not quite.