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CHAPTER SEVEN

FRIDAY MORNING POLLY was measuring out liquid antibiotics at the medicine station for the three-year-old toddler in Room Twelve B when John appeared in her peripheral vision.

He pushed a small brown bag her way. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

“Your lunch,” he said, already walking away.

“I made my own lunch.”

“Save it for tomorrow. You’ll like this better.”

“How do you know that? Maybe I’ve been craving peanut butter and jelly all day. Maybe I’ve been dreaming about my home-made lunch since breakfast.” When had she reverted to being a contrary teenager again? Could it be the hormones?

He stopped, turned and flashed that slanting smile, his dark eyes reminding her of milk-chocolate chips. Beneath his knee-length doctor’s coat he wore a white shirt and blue silk tie, looking dressier than usual. She inhaled, the savory scent coming from the bag already making her mouth water. Something warm and spicy awaited her, thanks to Dr. Griffin, the father of her baby.

He’d gone out of his way to bring this to her so the least she could do was be grateful.

She mouthed, “Thank you”. He dipped his head and walked away. Truth was, she could easily get used to him catering for her, and wondered how abruptly it would end once she had the baby. She glanced around, noticing Brooke and Rafael giving her odd looks. Oh, man, what must they think? The last thing she needed was to get picked up for the gossip grapevine like that poor Dr. Woods and the neurosurgeon, Dr. Rodriguez. Thank goodness Janetta didn’t work the day shift.

After finishing the obviously home-made minestrone soup with spinach and chicken meatballs, Polly found at the bottom of the lunch bag a large peanut-butter cookie with a note hidden behind it.

Meet me for an early dinner at Giovanni’s tonight? See you there at five.

How could he be so confident she’d come running just because he’d told her to? She went back to work determined to blow him off. Let him sit there and wait for her to show up. She may be pregnant, but she was darned sure not to be taken for granted because of it.

As the afternoon wore on, she prepared a teenage soccer player for surgery on his left knee and right shoulder. She’d given him his pre-op medicine and shot and stayed close by until the transportation clerk could take him to the operating room. As his eyelids grew heavy and he dozed off, she thought about John and his sexy blue silk tie and that off-balance but charming smile. Did she really want to play games with him? He’d asked her to dinner, had seemed sincere enough, and she had no reason not to go, so why stand him up?

The man had been to hell and back over the past twelve years. Here he was getting a little sparkle in his eyes again, and the last thing she should do was give him a hard time. It wasn’t in her nature to play games with men anyway. Besides, in her dating life the guys had always been much better at game-playing than she could ever compete with.

No, after work she’d take her time and freshen up then walk over to Giovanni’s for another dinner with John. Memories of what had happened after the last time they’d eaten there made her lose her step but not stumble. She’d make sure it didn’t happen again, and maybe she’d ask him to drive her home, just to make sure. Besides, lately the fumes in the subway made her feel nauseous.

To her surprise, John was already there, waiting, when she arrived. He’d ordered bottled water instead of Chianti, too, which was sitting on the table. He stood when he saw her, and the smile he gave was definitely genuine. So was the warm feeling inside when she smiled back at him. Without his doctor’s jacket she could see his solid, football-player physique, and it spawned a quick flash of being naked in his arms and near bliss.

“If you like shrimp, I recommend the scampi,” he said, sitting down after she’d shaken the sexy thought from her mind and taken her seat.

“So much for idle conversation. You say dinner. You mean dinner.” She picked up the menu and scanned the specials.

“I’m sorry, is there something you’d like to talk about?”

She screwed up her face. “No. It’s just, well, customary when meeting someone for dinner to start off with small talk like ‘Hi, how was your day?’ or something before getting right down to ordering.”

“Sorry. I have an administrative meeting at seven.”

“On a Friday night?” There went her chance for a ride home. “So why’d you invite me here, then?” If he wanted to get right down to business, so could she.

He poured both of them a glass of the sparkling bottled water then took a drink of his. “I want you to move in with me.”

She almost spit her water right into his face, but instead she swallowed it wrong and coughed. He patted her back, looking concerned. She coughed and hacked for several more seconds, eyes bugging out, feeling embarrassed about how she must look. He looked on, earnestly trying to figure out how to help her. After she settled down she said, “You what?”

“You heard me right. I’ve been thinking about this and as we’re having this baby together, it’s the least I can do.”

That warm something or other she’d felt momentarily when she’d first walked in and seen him smiling at her turned to ice. “The least you can do? Well, how kind of you, sir. Thank you for the magnanimous crumb.” She stood, fully intending to leave. “As far as I’m concerned, you can take that crumb and shove it!” With the room melting down to nothing as her anger overtook every cell in her body, she stomped towards the exit. Before she made it to the street, a big, strong hand grabbed her arm.

“Hold on, hothead.”

She yanked back her arm and kept moving, now outside the restaurant. He followed close behind. “Leave me alone. You’re a jerk.”

He managed to get in front of her, planted both hands on her arms and forced her to stop and look at him. “I know I’m a jerk. I can’t figure out how not to be a jerk or how to handle this thing. Give me a break, will you? I’m trying. I want to do what’s right, okay?”

The fury rumbling through her chest lost strength with each of his sentences. The man was being painfully honest, how refreshing, and she could see it in his tense yet imploring eyes. She blinked then glanced at the darkening sky. She’d made a point to never depend on anyone after the day she’d turned eighteen. Being a child at the mercy of uninterested aunts and uncles had been the most painful part of her life. She couldn’t allow herself to depend on John, though she sure could use his help for a while.

Was it wise to get more deeply involved with someone she barely knew? No. Especially since she’d had a fierce crush on John until everything had gone to hell in a handbasket with this surprise pregnancy.

“Well?” John said, confusion with a touch of impatience in his stare.

“I’m thinking. Can’t you give me a minute?” She glanced at him, reinforcing his jerk status, then went back to staring at the sky. She didn’t know what the heck she wanted from John, yet he was offering to open his home to her. It wasn’t all about herself any more. Nope. She had a baby to think about. Was there anything wrong with testing the waters where John was concerned? She wouldn’t dare get her hopes up or anything, but maybe for a while staying with John in a strictly platonic way could be useful for both her and her baby.

“Okay.”

He lightened his hold. “Okay what? You’ll give me a break?”

“I’ll move in.” Why mess around with pretenses. She was knocked up. He was the father. She hated where she lived, and he’d just offered her a room in his homey condo—a beautiful apartment in a gorgeous part of the city. Why be coy?

“Just like that, you change your mind. You’re ready to move in?”

“Yes. I’ll try it out for a week, see how things go. It will depend on whether or not we’re compatible. In a strictly platonic way. Got it?”

His shocked expression quickly turned to happy, then ricocheted to suspicious. “Whatever you say, dumpling.”

She slowly shook her head. Even if it was a crumb, he’d offered to help, and though she’d been prepared to make it through this pregnancy on her own, she appreciated his gesture, knowing it was way out of his comfort zone. How often in her life had she been invited into a home? Why not take advantage of a win-win situation? A nice place to live. Good food prepared in a kitchen without grease stains everywhere. A roomy bathroom without leaky faucets, mildew, and cracked tile. She could walk to work. Take walks by the East River in the evenings. If she got sick there’d be a doctor in the house.

He tugged on his earlobe, a combination of relief and shock registering on his face. “Okay, then. It’s settled. One week with the option to make it longer, okay?”

“Sweet.”

“Now will you have the scampi?”

Against her will a laugh escaped her lips. “Sure, why not?” He guided her back into the restaurant. “It isn’t every day a girl gets a proposition she can’t refuse, plus a shrimp dinner.”

He ran his hand over his short hair. “Yeah, well, it didn’t come out the way I’d practiced.”

She sputtered another laugh. “You practiced that?”

“Like I said...” He pulled out the chair so she could sit back down.

It did her heart good to see a grown man and skilled orthopedic surgeon, department head like John Griffin fumble and stumble over his words and actions because of her. Maybe she and the baby did mean something to him. Don’t let yourself go there. He’s got a lot of proving to do first.

She sat down and took another sip of water. There was only one way to find out if the man cared about her or not, and under these challenging and unusual circumstances she’d made a snap decision to find out.

By moving in for a week.

* * *

Saturday afternoon, John helped Polly move out of her tiny rented room and managed to fit everything in the trunk and back seat of his car. She’d decided to bring everything so she wouldn’t have to keep running back to the old place for this or that as the need arose. Besides, there wasn’t that much and why leave anything for Mrs. Goldman to snoop through while she was gone?

When she assessed all her worldly belongings, it made her heart feel a little heavier in her chest. The only precious item was a small cherry-wood jewelry box that had belonged to her mother. In it was a delicate gold locket with an enameled cover. It was heart shaped and opened to her mother’s picture on one side and Polly’s on the other. Thinking about her single cherished item from twenty-one years ago made her wonder what object John still treasured from Lisa.

Back at the apartment, she would set the boundaries right off—she intended to stay in his guest room rather than share his bed. Until he could move on from his past, there was no point in trying for a real relationship with John. It kind of hurt her feelings when he didn’t put up a fight about their sleeping arrangements, but she let those thoughts pass.

For a reputed grumpy old department head, John had been polite and helpful the whole weekend, and she began to see the balloon-twisting, cast-signing side of him. The man all the kids on the orthopedic ward adored. He made coffee in the morning and breakfast after that. Before she could offer to make lunch, he beat her to it. Being in his home, he was more relaxed and extremely considerate about making her feel welcome. If only the rest of the staff could see through his shield, but children seemed to have that special gift of looking into the true heart of a person. As for her, she was happy for the new glimpse of him.

On Sunday afternoon John took her on a walking tour of his neighborhood, which was another way of making her feel welcome. Delighted to find a yarn shop, she talked him into letting her go inside. Not in the least bit interested, he waited outside, chatting with a neighbor he’d run into, and she made her purchase quickly, embarrassed to let him see what she’d bought. It was silly, she knew, but she hadn’t knitted in a long time and, well, she was pregnant! She kept the items in a brown bag and his lack of interest made it easy to drop the subject so on they walked through the amazing and upscale neighbourhood of Sutton Place.

They ended the tour on a bench at a small park overlooking the East River. How different this part of town was from the Lower East Side. From a money standpoint, John lived a charmed life, but she knew the whole story—he was alone and hurting. Terribly alone. Even though it seemed he was the one with all the advantages, she knew she could bring something sorely missing into his life. Maybe, with this pregnancy, she could help him experience joy again.

As she stared at the Queensboro Bridge arching across the river, she hoped for any tiny miracle that could open John’s heart again. If an unexpected pregnancy was what it would take to shake some life back into him, so be it.

Deep in thought, she jumped when he took her hand. “What do you say we head for home?”

Home? Did she really and finally have a home?

“I thought I’d make pasta for dinner tonight.”

So far he’d cooked all the meals. “Why don’t you let me cook tonight?”

“Let me take care of you.”

Polly couldn’t let herself dream too much. All the years she’d never let herself get too comfortable wherever she was staying had trained her to take nothing for granted. If she got swept up in this little fantasy of having a home, it would hurt that much more when reality kicked in, and in her life reality always stepped in.

“Besides, you’re my guest. It’s my job to make you feel at home.”

So she was just a guest. She really needed to keep that in mind. She may as well let him wait on her, and while he made the spaghetti sauce she’d start her knitting project.

By Monday, Polly didn’t know how the hospital radar had picked it up so fast but she’d noticed odd glances and hushed conversations that stopped abruptly whenever she got near. It wasn’t in her nature to be paranoid, but she was beginning to wonder if someone had been spying on her and John over the weekend.

During lunch, while eating another carefully prepared meal by John, she cornered Darren and grilled him. “Is something going on I don’t know about?”

“I think I should be asking you that,” he said, taking a huge bite of an Italian lunchmeat sandwich.

“What’s everyone whispering about?” She decided to continue to play dumb.

“We’re all wondering exactly when you and Dr. Griffin found the time to become a couple. That’s all.”

“We’re not a couple.”

“You’re not. A couple.”

She thinned her lips and shook her head.

“Who made that lunch for you?” He used his sandwich to point at her wholewheat bread, sliced chicken with avocado and sprouts sandwich.

She thought about lying but that wasn’t in her nature. “John—I mean Dr. Griffin did.” She didn’t want to come clean until she cleared it with John.

“And who’d you walk into work with this morning?