Читать книгу Merry Christmas, Babies - Tara Quinn Taylor - Страница 10

JOE DIDN’T GET ANGRY OFTEN.

Anger brought chaos, for which Joe had a deep-seated aversion.

He avoided glances from everyone in the payroll department as he strode the short distance from his office on one end of the fifteenth-floor condominium suite to Elise’s office on the other.

It had been two weeks and a day since he’d met the real Elise Richardson—or at least a more complete Elise.

Two weeks and a day since she’d told him she was carrying four babies at once.

Neither of them had mentioned the conversation since.

He could think of little else.

She was on the phone when he arrived. The second she disconnected he announced, “I just heard you climbed fifteen flights of stairs with a bag of groceries.”

He could only see the top half of her sleeveless white summer dress, and she wasn’t sweating a bit.

“I had salad dressing and meat for the chicken Caesar salad we’re having for lunch. I couldn’t leave them in my car. It’s summer outside, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Don’t humor me, Elise. I’m not out of line here.”

“You’re upset over nothing.” She didn’t have to flick her fingers through that short dark hair to make her opinion perfectly clear.

“You climbed fifteen flights of stairs!”

“The elevator was out.”

“You’re carrying four babies! You should have called someone.”

She glanced to the hall outside the big glass windows on either side of her door. “The bag wasn’t heavy and exercise is good.” Her voice had lost much of its force.

“You still haven’t told anyone.”

She shook her head.

“When are you planning to do it?”

“As soon as the timing’s right. At the moment we’re hiring a new pay tech to take care of the payroll-only clients. And something’s up with one of our couriers—checks have been misdelivered twice.”

“Lunch today would be good timing,” Joe said, refusing to be distracted by business when what he really wanted was to never again speak of anything else with his partner. “Putting yourself—and your babies—in danger is ludicrous.”

“There was no danger, Joe! I’m not stupid. I went slowly, took breaks when I needed to. I just saw my doctor this morning and she says the more I exercise the better we’re all going to be.”

He closed her door, then stood in front of her desk like some kind of drill sergeant. Unusual for him.

“On to something that matters,” she said, eyeing him with warning. “First International is threatening to raise our group rate again. I’ve got an appointment on Monday with Great State.”

Both substantial and reputable insurance companies, and nothing to do with the stairs she’d climbed—or the reason he cared that she had. “I suspect their quotes will be similar.”

“Our value comes in offering insurance to employees of independent companies at a rate their companies can’t afford to offer. If our rates change too much, we lose that value.”

“We offer a great package,” he said. “Payroll, workers’ comp, tax compliance—and group insurance. And if our rates raise, so will everyone else’s. Unless they drop the lower rate structure for larger groups—which would put them out of business—we’ll still have the advantage.”

“I have an idea that will give us more of an advantage.”

He recognized the glint in her eye and sat in a visitor chair. “I’m listening.”

“What if we bundle a package of vendors? You know, a workers’ comp specialist, a strategic planning counselor, a tax consultant, a retirement counselor, psychiatric counselor, a corporate lawyer and maybe some kind of team facilitator—all things that are offered to employees of larger companies.”

“Benefits that bring higher levels of success,” he added, already hearing the presentation in his mind as he imagined himself selling the idea.

“Exactly.” Elise folded her hands on her desk, watching him. “The vendors would all bill us and we’d bill the companies, based on how many options they choose.”

“Individual services billed at a package-deal rate.”

“Correct.”

He loved it. Would have thought of it himself if he didn’t have her there to do that kind of thinking for him. Or not.

The tension that had become almost a constant companion to Joe these past couple of weeks returned in force. He needed Elise. Couldn’t afford to lose her. B&R couldn’t afford to lose her.

But how could four newborn babies possibly fit into the mix? Or four toddlers, for that matter?

“SO WHAT ELSE DID the doctor say?”

Elise stared at Joe, at the closed door to her office, then the hallway. They were working. In ten years, they’d never talked about personal stuff during working hours. At least not her personal stuff. She wasn’t forthcoming. He never asked. This was the second time in an hour.

She didn’t want that to change. Maybe she’d made a horrible mistake—or many of them. Confiding in Joe about her past. And her present. Visiting the fertility clinic. Thinking she needed more out of life. Thinking, period.

“You know doctors,” she conceded with an answer of sorts when it became clear that he’d sit there through the noon hour if she didn’t ante up. “They’re always worried about malpractice suits.”

Sitting forward, Joe held her gaze, not bothering to temper his frown with even a hint of a smile. “What did she say?”

Angela Parks walked by—probably on her way to the water fountain, judging by the big blue thermal cup in her hand. She filled it at least three times a day. Elise was a little concerned that the twenty-five-year-old pay tech might be diabetic.

“She went over the potential risks.” She’d also given Elise a written list of them. She needn’t have bothered. They were stamped so clearly on her mind she was having trouble focusing on other things.

“Such as?”

Joe looked so earnest, sitting there, his tie slightly askew. Should she tell him? Didn’t he see they were pushing boundaries here? Was he ready for that?

Was she?

“Premature birth is the biggest. A normal pregnancy goes forty weeks. If mine goes to thirty-four she’ll be pleased. Thirty-one is average.”

“Does she see any reason you won’t?”

“No. Not at all.”

“What else?”

“Even if I make it to thirty-six weeks, the babies will have lower than normal birth weights.”

“Why is that?”

“With four of them sharing space, their growing room is limited.”

He fidgeted in his seat, looked down.

“Anything more?” he asked, taking a noticeable degree of interest in a speck on his shoe.

She threw out a hand, wishing she felt even a tenth as nonchalant as she’d have him believe. “Various little problems I’ll be prone to with that many babies pressing on my internal organs.”

Elise started to sweat again, just thinking about the “little problems” of gestational hypertension, anemia, diabetes or any of the other things Dr. Braden had warned her about. She’d never considered, until that morning, that she wouldn’t be physically capable of taking care of herself through all this. She was strong. A survivor.

And if she didn’t, who would?

Helplessness was not an option for family-less people.

“I’m assuming she had orders for you?”

Dozens of them. A few she’d share. “Just lots of rest, a careful diet and vitamins at this point,” she told him honestly. She couldn’t think about any more than that. Being confined to bed the last trimester wasn’t an option.

Elise’s life was about miracles. She’d survived the fire that had killed her entire family. She had little trace of the burns that had covered forty percent of her body. She could be one of the three percent of women who had relatively normal quadruplet pregnancies—and she’d start the percentage for those who made it the entire way upright.

“Did she advise you to quit work?”

“No.” Not yet, anyway. Dr. Braden expected she’d eventually prescribe bed rest, though. She probably assumed that Elise would understand that bed rest meant not working.

The assumption was wrong.

“MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION please?”

Joe stood in the doorway of the kitchen, searching the room for his partner. She was over by the sink, still serving plates of food.

When she’d originally started the tradition of providing Friday lunch, their office had been one room with partitions and she’d cooked at home and brought lunch in. There’d been just the two of them and they’d pulled up chairs at Joe’s desk and eaten together.

Voices slowly stopped as faces turned toward him. Joe counted all nine of them. Everyone was there. Good.

“Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but we have an announcement to make. Elise?”

He would not feel guilty about this. Elise’s health was at risk.

“Ah, yes.” He heard her voice and studied the flooring. The travertine had been a good choice. Elise’s, of course.

“B&R is going to expand our program of services…”

What? He did everything he could to bore a hole with his eyes into his partner’s forehead as she expounded on the plan the two of them had agreed upon that morning, giving their employees assignments, timelines and a bonus program. The woman was good.

But she wasn’t getting away with it.

After the applause died down and questions were answered, Joe stepped farther into the room.

“That isn’t all Elise has to say,” he told the group. This time his gaze let her know in no uncertain terms that if she didn’t do this, he would.

She’d put away the lunch leftovers and moved aside as Ruth Gregory and the two girls who worked under her supervision carried over the dishes and started rinsing them.

“I…”

Her eyes pleaded with him. He didn’t back down.

“I…”

“You aren’t quitting, are you?” The horrified call came from the end of the room. Sam Watterson, his senior sales associate.

“No!” Elise’s eyes met Joe’s again, and he finally understood. She wasn’t trying to be difficult. She wasn’t even trying to be secretive.

She just couldn’t do this.

“What Elise is trying to tell you is that she’s going to need your help a little bit more than usual around here over the next few months. We all know how much she’s given to this company—to all of us—and now it’s time for us to thank her by returning the support. Starting with congratulations. She’s decided to start a family.”

Exclamations broke out around them, heads jerking toward Elise, as though for confirmation that Joe was sane and not telling stories about her.

“Yes, yes, it’s true,” she said. She stood in the center of the room as though uncertain of how to respond to the smiling faces around her.

“Are you going to adopt a boy or a girl?” Ruth asked.

Elise’s expression froze. “Uh…”

“She’s not adopting,” Joe jumped in, cursing himself. It wasn’t like him to act without foresight, without planning. But then, it wasn’t like his partner to get pregnant, either.

“You’re going to have a baby?” Angela’s voice rose with excitement. She was at Elise’s right elbow.

Elise nodded. “More than one, actually.”

“Twins?” Carolyn Ramsey, B&R’s workers’ compensation specialist, joined the women by the sink.

“Quadruplets,” Elise said as though it was commonplace. The woman just wasn’t facing the situation, Joe thought. Which worried the hell out of him. How could he count on her to take care of herself if she wasn’t going to acknowledge what needed to be done?

Whatever the hell that was.

Everyone in the room was staring. “I’m eight-and-a-half weeks along,” Elise added.

“Quadruplets!” Angela’s eyes were wide. “Cool. I’ve never known anyone who had four kids at once.”

“Are you going to tell us next that you’re the happy father?” Mark Oppenheimer asked, taking his plate to the sink.

The idea floored Joe.

But not, apparently, their staff. The room grew quiet, eyes on him.

“No, he’s not,” Elise said at last. “Joe’s a wonderful business partner, but spare me his eating habits. I could never live with a man who eats leftover pizza for breakfast.”

Laugher broke out and Joe started to breathe again. She’d never experienced the bliss of cold pizza in the morning? That was her problem.

“Nor could I expose my children to such habits with a clear conscience,” she continued.

“Then who…”

“But…”

He should have anticipated the awkward situation he’d put her in. Should have done this differently. Presentation was his business.

“Elise elected to do this alone,” he told the group. “She had artificial insemination, and I, for one, admire the hell out of her for having the courage to pursue her own brand of happiness.”

Cheers filled the room and Joe could no longer make out the excited chatter around Elise. He waited around another minute or two—long enough to make sure that she was okay, and then escaped to his office.

She’d be well taken care of. If he’d read their staff right—and reading people, Elise aside, was one of his most prominent skills—she’d have no fewer than nine surrogate watchdogs at the office over the next months.

Which let him solidly off the hook.

“HI, ELIZABETH, it’s Elise. Is Thomas home?”

Seven-thirty on Saturday morning, he should be. Unless he had a golf game. Samantha rubbed up against her, purring.

“Of course. Let me get him for you, dear.”

“Thanks.”

“I hear congratulations are in order. I was thrilled when Thomas told me it worked so quickly. And don’t worry about the rest of it, dear. You know how the good Lord works. In his time, not yours. He’s taken pretty good care of you.”

Including sending such a wise woman to keep her head straight, Elise thought. If only she had Elizabeth’s confidence. “I know.”

“I’ll get Thomas.”

“ARE YOU FEELING OKAY?” Thomas’s greeting was right to the point as always when he came on the line moments later.

“Yes.”

“Following doctor’s orders?”

“Don’t I always?”

“Any problems?”

“Not so far.”

“Good. So you like this Dr. Braden? You trust her?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I made some calls—heard nothing but good about her.”

Elise smiled, though she almost started to cry, as well. “Am I ever going to get too old for you to look out for me?”

“Nope.”

She was glad to hear that.

“It’s going to be hard carrying four babies at once.”

“Harder on some than others. You’re strong and in excellent health. Just keep taking all your vitamins.”

She paused, knowing what he’d say, but she had to voice her concerns anyway. If not, they’d continue to go around in her head driving her quietly insane.

“What if something happens to me, Thomas? What’ll happen to my children?” Darin jumped into her lap and she stroked his back.

“You trying to do God’s job again?”

Just as she’d expected.

“No.”

“Lots of things can happen. Each with its own solution based on where you are in life when it happens. No point trying to find solutions for circumstances that are not yet set.”

Also what she’d expected.

“Then can we deal with here and now?” she asked. “I’m afraid there are a million things I’m not thinking of.”

“I doubt that, my dear, but I’m happy to help, you know that. Tell me what you’ve done to provide for the kids in case something happens to you.”

“I took out another life insurance policy last week.” Her father had taught her well.

“Good. Anything else?”

“Set up a trust.”

“Excellent.”

“Will you and Elizabeth execute for me?”

“For now.”

In a routine established years before, he helped her organize her thoughts one by one. Breaking everything down into parts she could manage.

“I’ve got all this energy,” she told him half an hour later. “I’m supposed to be tired, aren’t I?”

“Wait another couple of weeks,” he replied. “In the meantime, why not shop? You’re going to need four of everything. Make your choices, have things delivered, get the house ready in case you’re too tired to walk from one room to another later on.”

Four cribs. Where was she going to put them? She moved through the house. The family room would need cradles. And a changing table. And swings. Nothing in the living room.

Four of everything. The cribs would all fit in the second bedroom.

Too tired to walk, he’d said. Oh, God. Could she do this?

“Do you recommend disposable diapers?” Thomas was still on the phone. She had to say something.

“For a single mother of four? Absolutely! Get on the Internet, Elise, and find one of those quad scooter things, too. They use them in place of strollers. I’ve seen them at conventions a time or two and I’m guessing you won’t find one at a local baby store.”

“Okay.” And if she found one, would she have the strength to push it?

“And start looking around for a nanny now. I’m assuming you’re set enough to be able to afford one?”

“During the day.” She was an accountant. She’d done the math every way there was to do it. Over and over these past weeks. “We just bought the suite of offices and I owe a chunk on this house and would take huge penalties to get out of either loan.”

“And knowing you, I’d guess most of your savings are tied up in long-term investments.”

“IRAs, mostly. I have enough cash to see me through several months in case of an emergency, but I’ll need that cushion now more than ever. I was expecting one baby. Paid maternity leave. And day care. I could do that on my salary.”

“Check out programs at the local college. I think Grand Valley State is there. See if there’s a child care class that will accept you as part the class curriculum. Students could get credit for assisting you with the babies while they’re still too young for day care. It won’t do much for your nighttime feedings, but it could sure help in the daytime at little or no cost to you. At least at the beginning. The college would screen and oversee applicants so you’d be safer than hiring someone on your own.”

Elise sat down on the queen-size bed in her second guest room, smiling and crying at the same time. “You are a godsend, my friend.”

“I’m an old man. Live long enough and you hear about everything.”

“I’ll call the college on Monday. Thanks for the idea.”

They chatted another twenty minutes or so, and when she hung up, Elise’s smile was genuine.

Thomas could always instill the sense that she wasn’t alone even when she was.