Читать книгу Surprise! Surprise! - Tina Leonard - Страница 8

“Without Maitland Maternity, and Dr. Mitchell Maitland, this miracle wouldn’t have happened.” Maddie Winston swallowed, her eyes glowing with soft happiness as she looked at her precious newborns. Twin boys. She still couldn’t believe it. A grateful sigh tightened her throat but she looked at the newspaper reporters and the local TV crew, forcing herself to keep her voice even so the tears wouldn’t well up and spill over. “Dr. Abby Maitland has my profound thanks for making the birth process a wonderful, spiritual one. A new mother couldn’t ask for anything more.”

“What the devil is going on in here?” a male voice roared suddenly, drying her tears and stiffening her spine. The path of crew and reporters parted to reveal her long-lost husband.

Maddie faced Sam squarely, though the shock of seeing him again after all these months—and today of all days—made her knees slightly weak. “What’s going on is a small media conference, Sam.”

“Small?” He whirled to stare at the reporters, doctors and nurses clogging the room.

“Who’s he?” an intrepid reporter called.

She stared at Sam’s angry expression and cast subtlety to the wind. “The sperm donor,” Maddie said brightly.

“The sper—” His furious eyes glared at her.

“Conference is over,” Abby called, efficiently clearing the room, in command as always. “The parents need some time alone.”

Maddie turned away. The last thing she needed was time alone with Sam. How could he have found out? She’d wanted to tell him in her own way, in her own time. When she’d known for certain everything would be all right with the babies.

The truth was that she’d procrastinated longer than she should have, not wanting to call the man who’d left her to admit she’d made a tiny withdrawal which had certainly paid astonishing dividends.

“How could you have kept this from me?” he demanded once the room emptied.

She put her hands on her hips. “How could I have told you?” Drawing herself up, she faked bravado to cover her racing heart. “You were in France. I was here in Texas. We haven’t talked in nine months. There didn’t seem to be a good time.”

Maybe it was a lame excuse, but it was best to keep the past firmly between them. A barrier neither of them wanted to cross. The marriage was over, no emotions left to feel, no ties to bind—except these two babies.

“So they are mine?” He slung a curious, possibly frightened glance at the twin bassinets. “Your brother didn’t make this up as a sick joke?”

Her stomach curled, tightening against the pain. “Are you saying Joey called you?”

“Yeah.” A tic worked in his jaw. “Why were all these reporters and people in here? Was everybody supposed to know about this except me?”

“Sam, while I’m glad you’re interested in the children—”

“Somehow you’ve made me a father. Didn’t you think I’d be interested?”

Not in loving her, of course. In duty. “I prefer to think of your concern in this to be a minor one. We’re separated. I won’t be the first single mom in history.”

“Just a mother with children she stole.”

“I did not steal them!”

“I’m pretty sure I had some legal rights in this matter. You just can’t take my…my—”

“Yes?” She raised her eyebrows, sensing his discomfort. “Sperm?”

“Stop saying that! It sounds so…clinical.”

She went to the overnight bag she’d been repacking from her stay in the hospital. “It was a clinical procedure. I never thought of it as anything else.” But she’d known he’d be unhappy, when he found out. Eventually, she would have told him.

When she’d found the right words.

“I can’t move back from France right now. We’re in the middle of a start-up project which has taken months to get into place.”

“I don’t remember asking you to return.” She told herself it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t more amazed by the miracle which had happened. She didn’t still love him. Would fight against loving him with everything in her broken heart. “Weekend visitation is all but impossible two continents apart. Don’t worry. These are my children.”

“And you expect me to walk out of their lives?”

A wheelchair was brought in. The nurse helped her into it. “Would you like to hold the babies, Ms. Brady? For the cameras?”

“Forget the cameras! This family is not going to be fodder for Ripley’s Believe It Or Not, or Guinness Book, or whatever publicity stunt you’re pulling. And the last name of those infants is Winston.”

Maddie ignored the growl she remembered so well from the moment their marriage had begun to unravel. She was thirty-eight, and wanted children. He was forty-two, and hadn’t felt the need the way she had. He was happy. She had not been. “Yes, please hand me the boys.”

“Does using your maiden name not embarrass you? For them?” Glancing at the names on the ankle bands, he read, “Henry. Hayden.” He grunted. “As much as I appreciate you at least naming these boys with our fathers’ middle names, my name had better be on the birth certificates.”

She smiled down into her babies’ sleeping faces. “You’re on there, Sam. If you’ll excuse me, we need to return to filming.”

“Filming? You’re a movie star, now that you’ve robbed the bank?”

A stinging retort was on the tip of her tongue, but the nurse thrust the wheelchair handles into Sam’s hands. “Mr. Winston, the reporters said that it would be a great touch if you pushed Ms. Brady out to the curb.”

“Reporters be damned!”

“Interesting French you picked up while you were abroad,” Maddie murmured.

“How do you expect me to feel?” he gritted out.

“Like a happy father?”

“I don’t think so.”

She could practically hear him grinding his teeth as he pushed her past a throng of people, clapping and waving at them as if they had done something special. Of course they had. This whole staff had invested their hopes and future medical hopes on her and her special babies.

“You only have to put up with us until you leave again,” she said to him in a whisper, unable to hide a trace of bitterness.

“Did I say anything about leaving again?”

“I assume you will. Foreign investments and all that.” She waved to a couple of nurses who had showed her how to bathe the tiny babies. And how to feed and care for them, one at a time and sometimes both at once.

“You’ll need help. I don’t see how I can go back for a while.”

“Order your one-way ticket, Sam. Since your parents moved next door to me, I have all the help I need. Plus Joey’s almost out of college for the summer, and is planning on helping in between football camps.”

He stopped the chair at the curb, putting the brake on before stepping in front of it. “Did you say my parents moved in next to you?”

“Last month. Didn’t they tell you?”

“Not exactly. They said they were moving to a warmer climate, someplace where the winters weren’t quite as cold. I thought that was a great idea. But I was thinking South Padre, not Austin.”

“Oh, well,” she said brightly. “Austin is so much better than Amarillo, as far as they’re concerned.”

“I guess so.”

She could tell he was very nonplussed by his parents’ choice of residence. In a way she felt sorry for him. He was the last person on the planet who’d known about the babies. “My parents live on the other side, in the Reefer’s old house,” she said softly, as he helped her into the waiting limo the hospital had ordered. She had to speak softly because reporters were still running tape, the Maitlands were still smiling, blue carnations in green paper were pressed into her hand—and she so much wanted to appear like a normal family. No matter how much they weren’t.

“Anything else you’d like to enlighten me on? Maybe just when you felt like I needed to know?”

She sensed his hurt and understood. “Would you like to ride with us?”

“I may as well,” he muttered. “We’re enough of a spectacle as it is.”

“I prefer to think of it as a circus. Active, bright, colorful, cheery. That’s our family tree.”

“That’s not how I’d describe a circus.”

She stared at the babies which were securely in car seats, one next to each parent. “Wave,” she instructed. “With a big smile. Maitland Maternity has given us a future.”

She waved madly, smiling from the limo window as the car pulled away. Sam eschewed the all-is-right-with-the-world appearance. Absolutely nothing was right in his world.

He saw the delighted smile brightening his wife’s pixie face, eyes glowing with happiness and pride as she called thanks to everyone on the hospital sidewalk waving goodbye to them—and knew nothing had been right since he’d left.

He missed the hell out of her. Unfortunately it didn’t seem she felt the same way. She had everything she’d ever wanted now—and more.

“CAN YOU HEAR anything?” Sara Winston asked Franny Brady, who had her ear pressed to a glass held firmly against the closed bedroom door.

Tufts of Franny’s iron-gray hair stood up a bit wildly as she leaned close to listen. “It’s pretty quiet.”

“Oh. That doesn’t bode well.” Sara pursed her lips. “Maybe Sam doesn’t like the new decor. It’s possible we went a teensy bit overboard with the Miami look.”

Franny shook her head. “Maddie needed decorating with attitude. It lifted her spirits considerably.”

“Has he gone into the bathroom yet?”

“I haven’t heard any howls. Guaranteed if he didn’t like the bedroom, he’ll resist the oranges-and-bananas tropical wallpaper and—”

“Shh!” Sara didn’t want to think about it. The pretty fountain they’d installed on the bathroom counter might not exactly be a hit. Of course, if they’d gotten the water to flow out of the statue’s bowl instead of shooting from the woman’s mouth, it wouldn’t be so bad. “We may have some tweaking to do here and there. But all in all, I think we did a good job.”

“Sure he’ll be proud of how much we’ve tried to do in his absence.” Franny pulled away from the door, and they went up the staircase to join the rest of the family. “Not that I mean to criticize your son, Sara. My daughter was just as much at fault.”

Grandfathers Virgil Brady and Severn Winston rocked in matching white rockers.

“Where are the babies?” Franny demanded, seeing that the grandfathers weren’t holding babies as they’d been when she’d left.

“Maddie came and got them for a bath,” Virgil answered. “She said they needed a feeding and a nap. A second later, I heard the doorbell ring. Who was it?”

“Sam,” Sara said grimly. “And he barely had a word to say to us! You’d think that boy could hug his mother after being gone so long. Not so much as the courtesy of a phone call to tell us he was coming back! But as soon as Franny told him Maddie was in their, uh, her bedroom, he headed in there so fast you would have thought bees were after him.”

Maddie’s nineteen-year-old college-linebacker brother, Joey, halted in the process of stacking diapers, putting away tiny infant clothes and carefully placing numerous baby gifts, which had been delivered to the hospital, on rectangular window seats around the nursery. “I called him,” Joey confessed. “He knows what Maddie did.”

“You called Sam in France?” Franny asked with a gasp. “When?”

“Yesterday. Someone had to tell him about the babies.” Joey’s face was miserable. “I don’t think Maddie could. I think she had good intentions of telling him what she’d done, but as the months wore on, I think she got too scared.”

“We promised her,” Sara said. “Maddie’s going to be angry. She wanted to tell him herself. She asked us just this once to let her handle her life. Oh, dear,” she moaned. “And yet I do believe you have a point, too, Joey. It did seem as if she never got around to making that call. I do believe in my heart that she was so distressed she simply froze.”

“Never mind that. There’s a saying about playing the cards you’re dealt. And Sam and Maddie have been dealt a pair of sweethearts.” A pleased grin lit Franny’s face. “No wonder he was in such a hurry. I’d say that’s a good sign.”

“Nothing to do but sit and wait for the explosion,” Virgil said. “Come here, woman.” He gestured to his wife, and Franny went to sit on his lap.

Too refined to lap-sit, Sara took the window seat closest to Severn. They sat silently for a long moment, surveying the gentle decor and cheery blue and white train furnishings with pleasure. “Now, this room we did right,” Franny said.

“I agree.” It was the room Sara had enjoyed redecorating the most.

“So, how are Sam and Maddie?” Virgil wanted to know. “Did you get to see them together before the boudoir door slammed shut? Did they rush into each other’s arms?” His sun-furrowed skin creased with hopeful expectation. Like his energetic wife, he wore faded, comfortable clothes much like he’d worn on the cotton farm they’d spent their long marriage working. Just as they’d worked the farm, Virgil and Franny were putting every ounce of their effort into seeing that these grandbabies had parents who lived under the same roof—even if they hadn’t been under the same roof for nine months.

“I don’t think that’s exactly how it went,” Franny said sadly.

“A bit of tweaking is all they need,” Sara said. “I can tell our son still loves your daughter.”

“Tweaking is good. Tweaking is important.” Franny screwed up her face. “Maybe we should vacate to our houses so they can tweak.”

Sara thought about that for a moment before shaking her head. “Let’s just carry on as we planned. Sam left. Sam will have to adjust. If Maddie wants us to leave, that’s different, but she might feel we’ve abandoned her in her hour of need.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way!” Franny was aghast. “My daughter did feel deserted when Sam left the country. Although I’m sure he’d rather have stayed if they could have worked matters out. If he’d felt that she wanted him to stay.”

“For the sake of these precious grandchildren, we must act as if nothing’s changed. Even if everything has changed, from the decor to…well, you know.”

The two women shared a conspiratorial glance. “Everything could change back,” Franny said thoughtfully. “Maybe we haven’t seen the last of the Brady-Winston miracles!”

“You said that right before you turned the fountain on,” Sara reminded her. “We rigged that the wrong way.”

“Well, the second time is supposed to be the charm.” Franny brightened considerably, jade-green eyes identical to her daughter’s glowing with mischievous intent. “This time, the plumbing is sure to work just fine!”