The Doctor’s Secret Baby Page 10

  She thought it best not to mention just now that Sophia had convinced her to tell Cal about Annie after finding the breast lump.

  “What about your mother?”

  Emily had told him she and her mother weren’t close but no details. “Mom passed away before Annie was born. It wasn’t unexpected.”

  “Was she ill?”

  “Yes. Cancer. And it didn’t help that alcohol was her main source of nutrition for as long as I can remember.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She doesn’t deserve it.”

  Again he looked surprised. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “What?”

  “Why you’re so angry with her,” he said.

  “She’s gone. There’s nothing to say.”

  He looked surprised. “I’ve never known you to be anything but caring and concerned. This is different. I’m a good listener.”

  “Right. Wonder Doc, the golden boy of Mercy Medical Center gets in touch with his feminine side.”

  “Joke if you want. It’s a defense mechanism.” He set the baby bottle on the rug beside him, then linked his fingers together. “And for the record, a good doctor listens first before doing anything. Otherwise there’s no way to figure out what’s wrong.”

  Just when she was starting to feel good about him, her, Annie and the future, he had to bring up the past she was desperately trying to forget. “You don’t really want to hear this.”

  He studied her. “I think you don’t really want to tell it.”

  “Wonder Doc strikes again,” she said. He was good.

  “So tell me what happened. You’ll feel better.”

  “How about if I take two aspirin and call you in the morning?”

  He smiled. “You’re stalling.”

  “Right again.” She shifted Annie more comfortably in her arms. “You’re not going to drop this, are you?”

  “If you insist. But they say confession is good for the soul.”

  She softly kissed her daughter’s forehead before looking at Cal. Maybe he was right. More important, he was a doctor. He cared deeply about kids and wanted a good outcome for his patients. And now he had his own child. Clearly he had Annie’s best interests at heart. Surely he would understand that all those years ago the welfare of her baby was why she’d made the most difficult, painful decision of her life? It finally felt safe to tell someone about what she’d gone through.

  After taking a deep breath, she said, “I got pregnant when I was fifteen years old.”

  Em had never quite understood the meaning of pregnant pause until now. Clearly that declaration had stunned him into speechlessness and she didn’t plan to fill the void with words.

  “What happened?” he finally asked.

  “My mother told me that she couldn’t even afford to take care of me. No way could I bring a baby into the house for her to support. She gave me an ultimatum to give the baby up for adoption or find another place to live.”

  “So you gave your child away?”

  She winced at the censure in his voice. “I ran away.”

  “To a friend’s house? What about the baby’s father?”

  “After I told him I was pregnant, I never saw him again.” She shook her head. “My own father was never in the picture. At that time being raised by a single mother who disappeared from reality into a cheap bottle of wine didn’t help you fit in. Friends are hard to come by when you’re different from everyone else.”

  “Where did you go?”

  A chill went down her spine and she shivered. To this day she embraced the desert’s summer heat and loathed the weeks of bitter cold that the chamber of commerce didn’t advertise. “I had nowhere to go. I lived on the street.”

  “I don’t understand—”

  “Then let me spell it out. I had no food except what I could scrounge out of Dumpsters. It didn’t take long to figure out that the ones by restaurants were bountiful with scraps. I stole food, too. When I was so hungry I couldn’t stand it.”

  “What about the baby? Prenatal care?”

  She laughed but the sound was bitter. “What part of nowhere to live and nothing to eat did you not understand? I didn’t even know about prenatal care and even if I did, I couldn’t take care of myself, let alone go to a doctor.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I met a guy who took me under his wing.”

  Fire and ice slid into Cal’s blue eyes. “A pimp?”

  She nodded. “He set me up with a guy in a cheap motel, but I couldn’t go through with it.”

  “What happened to the baby?” he asked.

  Em tightened her hold on Annie as her eyes blurred with tears. “I loved that child. He was all I’d ever had that was pure and good. I couldn’t stand the thought that he would be hungry and cold. That he wouldn’t have a roof over his head and clothes. And toys. And a family. So I went back home, if you call a trailer park in the wrong part of town home.”

  “And?”

  “She took me back in on the condition that I’d give the baby up for adoption.” She shivered again at the cool expression in his eyes. “I went back to school, but none of the other girls were allowed to hang out with me because I was in trouble. To the boys I was fair game. After all, I couldn’t get pregnant because I already was.”

  She’d never been so alone and lonely in her life. All she’d had was the baby growing inside her and giving him away had been like cutting out her heart and soul.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

  “It’s not something you just blurt out,” she defended. “Hi. I’m Emily. I had a baby when I was fifteen and gave him up for adoption.”

  “Surely there were alternatives.”

  “Yeah. I chose not to say anything,” she said, a bad feeling pressing on her chest.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He stood and ran his fingers through his hair. “Did you challenge your mother’s ultimatum?”

  “You mean have the baby and bring him home?”

  “Something like that?”

  “Obviously you didn’t know my mother. This was the same woman who helped me pack a bag and held the door for me when I said I’d run away if she made me give up my baby.”

  “I can’t believe she meant that.”

  She couldn’t believe he was missing the point. “You have supportive parents, Cal. There are a lot of kids who don’t.”

  “What about assistance programs? State-funded agencies to help?”

  “I didn’t know of any and there was no one to help me find out.” She took a deep breath to hold those black memories back or lose the ability to find the right words and make him understand. “I was hardly more than a child myself. I loved my child more than anything but didn’t see any way to keep him. I had no alternative and it was more painful than I can tell you. That’s why I’m so committed to Helping Hands and giving the girls another choice when they’re in a situation like that.”

  He stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Isn’t that like ‘do as I say not as I do’?”

  Emily stilled and couldn’t get her breath. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I thought I knew you. I was wrong,” he said, looking down at her.

  Em stood with their daughter’s solid, soundly sleeping weight in her arms. She moved to the crib and settled Annie on her back, pulling a light blanket over her bare legs and feet. Without a word, she walked past Cal and into the living room as anger poured through her.

  Moments later Cal walked in behind her. “I better go.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” she agreed. “But first I want my say.”

  “Okay.” He settled his hands on lean hips.

  “I had no idea your sense of fairness was so impaired. You’ll never know what it feels like to be a child yourself, pregnant with nowhere to turn. How dare you be so self-righteous? Until you walk in my shoes, you don’t get a vote on how I lived my life.”

 
“You should have said something.”

  “It was on a need-to-know basis and you didn’t need to know.” She stared up at him, refusing to be intimidated. Not ever again. “I came to you because the lump in my breast made me face my mortality and how that could affect Annie’s future. That doesn’t give you the right to pass judgment on my past. I made the best decision I could make under the circumstances. But I’m not that defenseless child any longer. We have a baby and you can always expect straightforward and honest communication where she’s concerned. A child connects us, but that doesn’t entitle you to run my life.”

  “Fair enough,” he said.

  After he closed the door, she sank down on the couch and refused to let the tears fall. Here he was again. Just when she’d gotten her life together. She’d thought it was safe to share with him her most personal, painful secret. She’d been wrong. But Cal was wrong about talk making her feel better.

  Confession might be good for the soul, but it was hell on the heart.

  Chapter Eight

  Things were slow in the E.R. and this was one of the few times Cal wished he was busy, or more to the point, too busy to think about anything but helping kids. Emily claimed she had no tolerance for manipulation and lies, but at work the next day Cal was still wondering why he should believe her.

  To his way of thinking, a woman with no agenda wouldn’t keep information to herself. Em had done that more than once. The second time was when she found out she was pregnant with his child. The first was about her past and giving her baby up for adoption. That was important and character-defining information.

  In the E.R. break room, he walked to the counter where the coffeepot sat with a stack of paper cups beside it. After grabbing one, he poured coffee into it, then sat in one of the utilitarian metal-framed chairs with orange-plastic seats. Sections of the Review Journal newspaper were spread out over the top of the rectangular table in the center of the room. Half-eaten bagels and donuts turning as hard as hockey pucks were scattered on top of the papers along with empty cups, napkins and an open bag of chips.

  Cal moved aside the debris to find the sports section of the newspaper and opened it, but instead of baseball standings and teasers about the approaching football season, he kept seeing a pair of teasing, tempting brown eyes.

  The door opened and he looked up, grateful to see Rhonda Levin standing there.

  “What’s up?” he asked. “Do you need me?”

  The nurse manager critically scanned the table. “Easy, Doc. I just came in to straighten up this place.”

  “Oh.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “I don’t know how to respond to that.” He’d been hoping for something to take his mind off Emily, but that wasn’t something he was prepared to say out loud. “It’s like asking if you’ve stopped beating your wife. There’s no answer that doesn’t make you look bad.”

  “So you’re bored and wanting something to do with yourself?” she asked, gathering up the trash on the table.

  He knew that somewhere in the question was a deep hole just waiting for him to fall in, but wasn’t quite sure where it was, making a lateral move difficult to pull off. Cautiously he said, “I was wishing to be just a little busier.”

  “Wow.” She rolled up the top of the chip bag just a little louder than was probably necessary. “And I can’t think of a single thing around here for you to give me a hand with.”

  “In case no one has mentioned it, sarcasm is not an attractive characteristic.”

  “Takes one to know one,” she shot back.

  “Excuse me?”

  “In case no one has mentioned it to you, self-pity or misdirected aggression are not especially conducive to a warm and happy work place.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that the staff has come to me with some concerns.” She stacked sections of the newspaper into a pile. “You’ve been rude, abrasive and sarcastic to everyone today. When you’re not biting someone’s head off, you’re brooding and looking like a man trying to decide who to take a bite out of next.”

  “Do you have any idea how paranoid that sounds?”

  “It’s not paranoia if someone is out to get you. You’re in real danger of losing the Doctor-of-the-year award. The nurses, respiratory therapists and ancillary staff normally love working with you. Today—not so much. What’s bugging you, Cal?” With her knuckles fisted on the table Rhonda looked down at him. “What’s going on with Emily?”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to blow her off, but he knew she had a point. He hadn’t brought his A game to work, as far as the staff was concerned and was taking out his mood on them. Rhonda was more than the E.R. nurse manager. She was a friend.

  “That day Emily showed up here in the E.R.? She came to tell me that she had my baby.” He met her gaze. “Her name is Annie.”

  “That’s old news,” Rhonda informed him. “Everyone already knows.”

  “You’re kidding. How?”

  “Mitch mentioned it.” She gave him a wry look. “And this is a hospital. News that interesting spreads like a virulent strain of the flu.”

  “Right.” He knew that. And it wasn’t really what bothered him. “What do you think about giving a baby away?”

  “To someone on the street?” she asked wryly.

  “Of course not. Adoption.”

  Rhonda thought for a moment. “It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “The situation.” She folded her arms over her ample chest. “You’ve seen abused children here in the E.R. just like I have. Under those circumstances they’d be better off with anyone besides the ones they share DNA with.”

  “What about an unmarried teenager?”

  “Why are you asking?” She looked puzzled.

  It wasn’t his secret to share. As Rhonda had pointed out, this place wasn’t covered by the cone of silence. “Emily is involved with a program for teenage girls who have babies on their own because their families don’t support them and they have no place to go. She insists they work and get an education. In exchange reduced-cost housing is provided and the girls trade off child care. Em is their mentor.”

  “Good for her,” Rhonda approved. “But the decision to give a baby up still depends on circumstances. Teens go from thirteen to nineteen. As far as I know they can’t get a work permit until sixteen. What about the ones Emily can’t help? Without assistance how can they provide diapers, food, shelter and medical care? What if they’re not even old enough to drive?”

  Good point.

  When he didn’t comment, Rhonda continued, “Kids raising kids isn’t ideal. Mature adults find it a challenge, so imagine trying to raise a little life while trying to get your own started.”

  He’d actually faced that, then found out it was a lie. And apparently taking out the residual anger on the ones around him wasn’t confined to the E.R. He’d done it to Em last night. And looking at the situation through Rhonda’s eyes was giving him a different perspective. “So you think teen mothers should give up their children?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth,” she warned. “The issue isn’t black and white. It’s not neat and tidy. Every woman is going to have a different take on the decision. But let me just say that I have a great respect for women who put their baby’s welfare above their own needs.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “It’s an incredibly courageous decision and a different slant on unselfish love. Imagine a young woman who isn’t in a place where she can give her baby all the opportunities she might wish. Somehow she finds the strength to relinquish her child to two loving parents who are unable to conceive a baby.”

  He looked at her face and saw the traces of pain lingering in the tight mouth and shadowed eyes. “What, Rhonda?”

  She blinked and tried to smile, but couldn’t quite pull it off. “I couldn’t get pregnant.”

  “You wanted kids?”

  “Very much,” she
said softly. “My husband wasn’t in favor of adoption. He said the two of us together were good and more than enough for him. We made it work. We’re still together and very happy.”

  “Good for you.”

  “The point is that giving a child up shouldn’t be looked at in a negative way. It’s a chance for that baby to have a shot at a really good life and every innocent baby deserves that.” She rubbed a finger beneath her nose. “Listen to me on my soapbox. I guess you could say I’ve got a soft spot for the little ones.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bet you’re sorry you got me started.” A puzzled look settled on her face. “But your baby wasn’t given away. She’s with her mom. You know about her. So, mind if I ask why you wanted to know my feelings about adoption?”

  “Just curious.” Again, not his secret to spread around.

  “Emily told you about your daughter. Better late than never. For the record, I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt because I know her. She’s one of the good ones.”

  “You’re not the first one to mention that.”

  And Annie wasn’t her first pregnancy but this time she’d been in a position to take care of herself and the baby. Points to her for that.

  “Look, Cal, this is just my opinion and worth what you paid for it. But—”

  “What?” Since his doctor-of-the-year award was on the line he didn’t say what was on the tip of his tongue.

  “You’re not getting any younger. Unlike the women you’ve been dating recently. And I use the term women in the loosest possible way.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me. We both know it means that by going out with women barely of legal age you’re weeding out a mature woman who’s going to want a commitment.”

  “The women I see are less demanding. It works for me. I couldn’t be more content with my social life.” It was Emily who disturbed him.

  “You’re spitting into the wind, if you ask me.”

  “And by that you mean?”

  “If you keep creating obstacles where none exist, you’re going to wind up a crabby and lonely old man.” She walked to the door and opened it, then turned back for one last shot. “My husband and I couldn’t have children, but we’ve gotten past it and have a good, fulfilling life. If you don’t make peace with whatever it is that’s holding you back yours will not be pretty.”