Читать книгу The Doctor's Secret Baby - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 9

Emily paced the living room of her ground-floor apartment waiting for Cal. Could have knocked her over with a feather when he’d called for a meeting. As angry as he was, she hadn’t expected a father/daughter face-to-face until the DNA was done, so his asking to see Annie had really surprised her.

She heard an enraged wail coming from the hall and hurried to find Annie crawling—at least trying to—out of her bedroom. The little girl was in a sleeveless, white, full-skirted, lacy dress, which obviously felt like parent torture. Her knees kept getting caught up in the hem, which minimized forward progress and maximized frustration. Judging by the decibel level of the cry, her frilly frock was getting on the only nerve she had left.

Em picked up the dynamic bundle of energy. Her golden curls framed a round face with huge blue eyes and healthy, rosy cheeks.

“Hey, baby girl. I’m sorry about the dress. It’s not your style, but your daddy will be here any minute and I know you want to impress him. Put your best foot forward, so to speak. Tough to do when you’re not quite walking, but you get my drift. Dazzle him with your abundant charm, which you get from him, by the way.”

“Unh,” Annie responded, then wiggled and squirmed to be let down.

Emily complied. Carefully, she set the child on her feet, holding on to a chubby hand while Annie promptly plopped on her behind. “Putting your best foot forward needs some work, baby girl.”

When she tried to crawl, her knee got tangled up in the skirt again and there was a screech that could shatter glass or set off all the dogs in the neighborhood.

Grabbing her up, Em said, “Just a little longer, sweetie. After you meet him, I’ll slip you into something more comfortable. It’s almost bedtime and you’re not at your best, but Daddy had to work at the hospital until seven. He’s a doctor, kiddo. A kiddo doctor in the emergency room. That means he only works on kids. You’re gonna love him. And how could he not love you.” Annie rubbed her nose on Em’s shoulder leaving a slick trail of something viscous.

Em sighed at the gooey spot. “Good thing I’m not trying to impress him. You’re the one he’s coming to see.”

She’d lost count of Annie’s wardrobe changes for this auspicious occasion. Meeting your father for the first time was a big deal. Not that Em would know because she’d never laid eyes on her own dad. But surely a lady needed to look her best for something like this.

Em was well aware that she was the reason this meet and greet hadn’t happened sooner and the consequences were hers to live with. But the guilt could just get in line with all the other guilts over the many mistakes she’d made. Unlike some of them, this one could be corrected. Better late than never.

The harsh sound of the bell made Em’s stomach drop as if she were riding the down loop on a roller coaster. The good news was that it got Annie’s attention and she stopped grunting and twisting to escape. “Here we go, sweet pea.”

She carried the baby to the peephole and peeked through to establish a positive visitor ID, although Cal was right on time. When she saw him, her midsection knotted and she let out a long, bracing breath before unlocking and opening the door.

“Hi, Cal.”

“Em.”

She’d expected him to be in hospital scrubs, but he’d changed out of work clothes into jeans and a baby-blue shirt with actual buttons, not a T-shirt. The shade brought out the color of his eyes, his daughter’s eyes. Maybe, just maybe, this meet and greet was important to him, too.

“Come in,” she said, stepping back to pull the door wide before shutting it against the glare of the sun descending in the evening sky. “It’s hot out there.”

And in here, she thought, looking up at him. The view gave her no relief from the heat. It had been a while, but her body was still susceptible to him. Once upon a time his charm had snagged her heart, but the present vibe wasn’t particularly charming so she could only assume the man himself got to her. That was too depressing to think about. And this visit wasn’t about her.

Time to make long-overdue introductions.

She glanced at her daughter who was sucking on her index finger and staring uncertainly at the tall stranger. “Cal, this is Annie.”

He studied her intently for a long time. Em wasn’t aware of holding her breath, but let it out when he did the same.

“You didn’t mention that she looks like me,” he said, not taking his eyes from his daughter.

“Would you have believed me?”

“Probably not.” His gaze slid to hers and turned resentful. “My hair was that color when I was little. The eyes are like mine. Even this,” he said, reaching out a finger to gently touch the indentation in the little girl’s chin that was identical to his own.

Annie ducked away and buried her face in Em’s neck. “She’s a little shy.”

He nodded without saying anything and Em wished she could read his mind. Had he been hoping she’d lied? Or did the idea of having a child make him want to puff out his chest and buy a round in the pub?

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He held out his arms and took Annie from her.

Her only intention was to make up for lost father/daughter time and she wanted it to be perfect. She should have known better. Life had been throwing her curve balls as far back as she could remember. This was no different.

Annie squirmed when he tried to settle her on his forearm. Tiny hands pushed against that wide chest and attempted to twist out of his strong grasp. Then she took one look at his face, started crying hysterically and frantically held out her hands to Em for a rescue.

“She wants you.” His voice could freeze water on a Las Vegas sidewalk in July.

Em took back her baby and felt the little girl relax. Not so the unflappable E.R. doc who looked like someone had hacked his stethoscope in half. “Don’t take it personally, Cal. She just needs to get to know you.”

“And whose fault is it that she doesn’t?”

The cutting remark hit its mark and guilt flooded her yet again. When Em felt cornered, out came the scrappy teenaged kid who’d once survived on the streets. “Look, I already admitted screwing up and apologized for it. I won’t say I’m sorry again. Annie is like this with strangers, and frankly I think it’s a good thing.”

“It’s good that she doesn’t know her own father?” His eyes narrowed on her.

“Not exactly. I just meant that it’s not a bad thing for her to be wary of people she doesn’t know. Until she gets to know them, to separate the wheat from the chaff.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Frankly, I can’t afford to worry about how you feel.” That wasn’t to say she didn’t worry, but it wasn’t the best use of energy. “My priority is Annie.”

“Mine, too, now that I know about her.”

“So you really do believe she’s yours? Do you still want a DNA test?”

“Yeah.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Just to be sure.”

“You don’t have a lot of faith in your fellow human beings, do you?”

Before he could respond in the affirmative, the bell rang again. It startled the two adults, but also pulled Annie out of whimper mode.

“Excuse me.” Em peeked out and recognized the young girl. “I have to answer this.”

She opened the door and when Annie saw who was there she smiled and held out her arms.

“Hi, sugar.” The green-eyed, redheaded seventeen-year-old grinned then grabbed Annie and planted kisses on both chubby cheeks, making her laugh. “How’s this little girl?”

“Who wants to know?” Cal asked.

Em knew by the tone he was annoyed and had a pretty good idea why. If she’d been in his shoes it would tick her off that her child went easily to someone else and treated her like a serial killer. But that couldn’t be helped.

“Cal, this is Lucy Gates. Lucy, meet Dr. Cal Westen.”

The teen looked from one to the other, then at the child in her arms. “FOB?”

Cal frowned. “Friends of Bill?”

“Father of baby,” Emily translated.

Nodding, he studied Lucy. “And you are?”

“One of my girls,” Emily said, and knew from his skeptical expression that an explanation would be necessary. “This five-unit building was donated by Ginger Davis of The Nanny Network. With grants and donations, I run a program that mentors and houses teenage mothers. It’s called Helping Hands and assists young women who have nowhere else to go. They help each other raise their babies while getting an education. Children can’t be taken care of if their mothers can’t take care of themselves.”

Cal slid his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “You don’t look old enough to have a baby,”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t,” Lucy snapped back. She studied him warily. “My son’s name is Oscar.”

“I see.”

“Right.” The teen made a scoffing noise. “You don’t have a clue. Just like my folks.”

This wasn’t going at all well, Em thought. “Lucy, he’s just—”

“Judging,” she snapped. “Like everyone else.”

“How did your parents judge?” he asked.

Lucy’s expression was a combination of hostility and hurt that she tried desperately to hide. “They threw me out when I got pregnant. Didn’t want anything to do with a grandchild. Doesn’t get more harsh than that.”

“She and Oscar had nowhere to go,” Emily explained.

The girl reminded her of herself all those years ago. When her mother gave her the ultimatum to give up her baby or get out. So, she got out. At first. But after weeks on the street, she knew she loved her child too much to subject it to that kind of life and went home, forced to make a horrible choice. Now she was trying to help young girls who were facing the same choice and give them another option.

But it was time to change the tone of this meeting. “Cal is a pediatrician,” she explained to the teen.

“So you take care of kids?” Lucy asked.

“I handle pediatric emergencies at Mercy Medical Center,” he said.

“So you don’t do well-baby stuff? Shots and all that?”

“You need a regular pediatrician for ‘stuff.’”

“So what good are you?” Lucy asked.

“If your baby has head trauma or a high fever, I’m your guy. Not so much the long-term care.”

Em had never thought about it before, but even his choice of medical specialty highlighted an aversion to commitment. That didn’t matter for her. Not anymore. But she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her daughter. As long as Cal could commit to Annie she had no beef with him.

“Where’s Oscar?” Em asked.

“With Patty.”

“That’s her roommate,” Em explained to him. “The girls share living quarters in the apartment next door and trade off child care while working and taking classes for their GED or college credits.”

“Good for them.” Cal folded his arms over his chest.

Lucy sized him up, then handed Annie back to her. “I heard the dude knock on your door and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

“Thanks,” Em said, taking a firm hold on the little girl who was holding out her arms again for the teenager. “It’s fine. I appreciate you checking up on us.”

“No problem. It’s what we do,” the teen said, giving Cal a pointed look before opening the door. “Catch you later, Em.”

When they were alone again, his expression was even more hostile. “That was fun.”

“She’s a good kid.”

“The good part I’ll have to take your word on. Kid I could see for myself. My specialty is emergency care from birth to eighteen. She’s young enough to be one of my patients and needs classes in birth control.”

With their baby in her arms, she glared at him. “People who live in glass houses…”

“Okay.” His expression turned wry. “Point taken.”

“You weren’t very nice to Lucy. I never knew you to be deliberately rude.”

“I never had a child who treated me like I had cooties and preferred a stranger,” he defended.

“Lucy isn’t a stranger to Annie.”

“She is to me.”

“That’s childish.”

“But honest,” he snapped.

“Unlike me.”

“You said it, not me.”

A guilty conscience needs no accuser. “Look, Cal, that’s just the way it is. You can take it out on everyone or deal with the situation. Continue to punish me, or get to know your daughter. What’s it going to be?”

“She’s my child. And it’s time she got to know me.”

“Good.”

He settled his hands on lean hips, a gunfighter’s stance. “And you’re going to help me.”

“What does that mean?” she asked warily.

“You’re going to be around while Annie and I get acquainted.”

He was right. She couldn’t just dump the baby on him because it would be too traumatic for them both. Emily realized that she should have seen this coming, but the truth was she hadn’t. When she got the message that he’d never commit, the silver lining was not having to see him and hurt like crazy because he didn’t want her the same way she’d wanted him. Ironically what broke them up was also the same thing that forced them back together.

Annie.

Emily knew what it felt like to be vulnerable and alone. Unlike FOB, she didn’t plan to do that again and figured to pick and choose the people she let close to her. She’d never expected one of those people to be Cal. Again she reminded herself that he wouldn’t be there for her. It was all about his child.

Gosh, wasn’t it going to be fun hanging out with the guy who made breaking hearts an Olympic event?

Sitting in the sporty BMW he’d nicknamed Princess, Cal saw Emily’s practical little compact come around the corner and pull into the apartment building parking area. He was across the street in front of a vacant lot and got out of his car, looking both ways to make sure there was no traffic. Ending up in his own E.R. because of stupidity would be the ultimate in humiliation, and his partners in the emergency trauma practice would show no mercy, even though he had a good excuse for being preoccupied.

As he walked toward Emily, he watched her open the rear passenger door, unbuckle Annie and lift her out. Then she went to the trunk and popped it, pulling out a plastic grocery bag. The closer he got, the more bags he could see. It never occurred to him that two girls could eat so much.

“Hi,” he said.

She whirled around, clutching the child to her chest. “Good Lord, you startled me.”

“I thought you saw me.” He cocked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m parked across the street.”

“Why?” Her dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. “Are you stalking me?”

He slid his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Do you always go immediately to the bad place?”

“Normally, no,” she said, without conviction. “But what we have here isn’t a normal situation.”

“What we have here probably happens more than you think,” he said.

“Not in my world.” She loosened her hold on Annie who was sucking on her index and middle fingers, staring at him with distrust in every cherubic curve of her face.

“Does your world still include hospital social work?”

“Yes. In addition to running Helping Hands, I freelance at most of the valley’s hospitals. Not having to keep a nine-to-five schedule makes it easier to spend more time with Annie.”

Occasionally a patient in the E.R. needed social services to facilitate health-care programs, hospice care or off-site treatment options. He’d met her after seeing a child with leukemia and no insurance. Em was called in to counsel the parents on available treatment and financial plans to help pay for as much as possible. He’d been anxious to turn that case over to someone else when Emily Summers had walked into the room.

One look at that face—specifically that mouth—and he’d wanted to turn himself over to her. And he had, until she’d walked out on him for no apparent reason. The fact that they were going to be parents had never entered his mind.

“So were you working today?” he casually asked. “And where does Annie stay when you can’t be with her?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Not long this time.”

“This time?” she asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I stopped by earlier and talked to Lucy’s roommate, Patty. She was just on her way out to a class and told me when you’d be home.”

“Hmm.” With a couple of grocery bags on one arm and Annie in the other, Em shifted the baby’s weight.

Cal was pleased that she looked like a healthy kid. Yesterday after seeing her he realized there were a million questions he should have asked. How was the birth? Any complications? Who’s her pediatrician? He could get her in with the best one in the valley.

But none of those things had come out of his mouth because he’d been too stunned that Emily told him the truth. This time he’d brought a swab and planned to get a sample for the DNA test. Skepticism had been his new best friend since the woman he’d married had lied about being pregnant so they could be together. Translation—to trap him. His first mistake was not leaving when her lie was exposed because the longer they were together, the bigger the lies got.

Last night he’d pulled out old photo albums and pored over family pictures, studying the ones of himself at Annie’s age. She looked just like him. There was little doubt in his mind that she was his daughter, but because of his past, proof was required.

As he watched Emily struggle with grocery bags and the baby, it finally sank in that she could use some help. His parents hadn’t raised their boys to do nothing while a woman struggled.

“Let me help you,” he said, taking the bags.

“Take Annie.” She thrust the little girl into his arms. “I’ll grab a couple bags and unlock the door.”

Instantly the child started to cry and hold out her chubby arms to her mother. Em was already hurrying to her front door, key in hand.

“Annie’s crying,” he called after her. “Do something.”

“It’s good for her lungs,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re a doctor. You should know that.”

He did know that, when the child in question wasn’t his and crying actual tears. “Okay, kid. Let’s do this.”

He grabbed as many bags as he could carry and not compromise his hold on the little girl in his arms. Fortunately Em’s apartment was right around the corner from the parking lot and he followed her into the open front door. It was cool inside, a welcome relief from the July heat. The kitchen was just off the living room where Emily was half buried in the refrigerator hurriedly putting away cold and frozen food.

“What should I do with her?” he shouted over the pitiful cries that hurt his ears and his heart simultaneously.

She looked at him. “Put her on the floor.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice. He set Annie down on her tush where she continued to sob as if he’d been sticking pins into her.

“I’ll get the rest of the bags,” he said, and went to do that without waiting for permission. He was an E.R. doc and used to taking the initiative.

When he’d grabbed the remaining groceries from the trunk and shut it, he hurried back to the apartment, just as Annie was crawling out the front door. He stepped over her and dropped the bags in the middle of the living room, then raced out the door to scoop her up. The loud wail was irrefutable evidence of her displeasure. As if he needed more proof that she hated his guts.

Squirming and squealing, she continued her protest as he carried her to Em. “You’ve got a runner.”

Em glanced over her shoulder. “Good. You got her. She tries to escape if you don’t shut the door.”

He put Annie on the floor and did a slow burn while Emily finished putting away the groceries. Then she grabbed up the little girl and disappeared down the hall. Cal had no choice but to follow.

He watched Em competently change the wriggling child’s diaper, something he should have known to do, but didn’t because he’d been left out of that particular loop. With the freshly diapered child in her arms, she went back into the kitchen and got a child’s cup with a lid, filled it with water and just a splash of apple juice. He was pretty sure it was called a sippy cup because he’d heard kids in the E.R. calling them that. On the floor surrounded by plastic toys and stuffed animals, Annie grabbed the cup from her mother and chugalugged, evidence that she was thirsty. Or she liked her cup. Or both. He didn’t know which and it ticked him off because he should know. He was her father.

He watched Annie put her head down on a plump stuffed bear as sucking on the juice slowed. She blinked a couple of times before her eyelids drifted closed and her hold on the cup loosened. Her breathing grew slow and even.

“She’s asleep,” he announced.

“I know.” Em was washing apples at the sink.

“How?”

“It’s late afternoon and the heat wears her out.” She glanced past him and smiled tenderly. “But it’s getting close to dinner time so all she gets is a power nap.”

“Why?”

“If I let her sleep too long, there will be no getting her to bed at a decent hour tonight.”

“Of course,” he snapped.

Emily studied him. “What’s bugging you?”

“Besides the fact that whenever I touch her my daughter screams as if I’m an ax murderer?”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“I don’t know anything about her and I’m her FOB.”

“Think about it this way, Cal.” Emily shut off the water, then arranged the apples along with a big bunch of green grapes in a yellow pottery bowl. “Before Annie was born I didn’t know her, either. Now we’ve spent a little time together and I’ve learned about her. I do my best to make sure her needs are met so she trusts me to do that. All it takes is to put the time in. One day. Then another. And another. Until a pattern develops. If you’re up for it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he demanded.

“You’re not a guy who gives patterns a chance to develop.”

Not unhealthy patterns. He’d done that once and it was a disaster. “I’ve never had a kid before,” he said, not bothering to deny her words.

“It takes time to build trust. And I get that’s not easy for you, although I don’t know why.” She held up her hands. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s probably on a need-to-know basis, and I don’t need to know.”

She was right about that. No one needed to know that his ex gave him lesson after lesson on why women couldn’t and shouldn’t be trusted. Em reinforced it by keeping knowledge of his child from him. Patterns? Oh, yeah, bad ones. It’s why he didn’t do commitment.

“Yeah, you don’t need to know,” he agreed. “And you’re right about spending time with her to build trust. How are we going to work that out?”

“I’m not sure yet. But we will.”

Looking around the apartment, he assessed his daughter’s environment. He recognized the light green corner group from Em’s other place and the cherrywood coffee table in front of it. There was a TV on a stand in the corner that was also familiar. Three wrought-iron barstools with beige seats lined up at the counter separating the kitchen and living room. They were new because her old place hadn’t had a bar. If he walked in her bedroom, would the floral comforter be there? More than once he’d swept it to the floor in his hurry to have her.

His body tightened and he remembered that, too, the intensity of his need for her. It was different from the way he’d wanted any other woman. And he still felt it, which didn’t make him at all happy.

“Do you need money?” he asked.

“No.” The indignation in her expression was easy to read.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but I have nine months of pregnancy, the birth and eleven months of Annie’s life that I owe you for.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said, anger flashing briefly in her eyes “Money isn’t why I told you about her. I just wanted you to know she exists. In case anything happens to me.”

The lump in her breast. He’d forgotten that what with the mess of finding out he was a father. She’d said she had an appointment.

“I’ll go with you to see the doctor.” If she was lying about it this would call her bluff.

“I can handle it.”

“I’m not saying you can’t.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Just that you might need some help with Annie.”

“That’s not a problem,” she protested. “I’m used to taking her with me.”

“No offense, but she’s got a pretty good set of lungs. That could make actually hearing what the doc has to say difficult.”

“I can leave her with Lucy—”

“No.” Anger knotted in his gut. “Annie is my daughter. I can stay in the waiting room with her. Just a short-term assignment.”

“Are you sure?” Em caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Absolutely.” And he absolutely couldn’t look away from those small, straight white teeth sinking into the soft flesh of her mouth. It made him think about the rest of her flesh—the parts underneath her clothes. That made him want to get her naked, which was a very big problem.

“Okay, then,” she agreed. “You can come with me.”

“Good. It will go a long way toward establishing trust.”

With his daughter, not with Emily. She’d burned him once and wouldn’t get another chance. After doing the deceit dance with his ex-wife, he knew that second chances were a slow slide to the dark side. Lori always had an ulterior motive for the suicide attempts that never succeeded. It kept him with her, at least until the next time he got fed up and threatened to leave when she’d try again and wind up in the E.R. to make a dramatic statement. Then, without warning, she’d left him first. Where was the win in that?

And Emily had done the same thing. But now she was back. That just meant this was a new challenge, that there was something she wanted more than getting him together with his daughter.

All he had to do was find out what that something was and beat her at her own game.