The Child Who Changed Them Page 2

  She glanced at the doctor. “You’re sure?”

  Dr. Miller nodded.

  And Elaina watched her whole future change course once again.

  Chapter Two

  Greg had to admit he was curious to see Elaina’s home. In a train-wreck kind of way. His own emotional equilibrium train wreck. In all the time they’d been involved, he’d yearned for and never received an invitation. Going there after the breakup was more a slap in the face than anything.

  He was driving from the hospital to her place for a private meeting she’d requested—to tell him, he felt sure, that she suspected, as he did, that there’d been a mistake with drug administration going on at work. Greg allowed himself a small bit of anticipation at the prospect of finally seeing where she lived.

  Six weeks before, he’d have been all over an invitation to the sprawling home with the built-in pool. He’d been mildly intrigued about the place when he’d first met her more than a year ago and she’d told him she shared the home with her ex-husband. Wood had since married and moved out, but...how did a divorced couple coexist happily and separately under one roof? Greg hadn’t asked. She and Greg had just been coworkers on the same charting committee at that point.

  And he’d been brand-new to town.

  Once he’d become her lover, he’d had a little more reason to need to understand just how the situation worked. But they’d been drawn to each other because of their shared resistance to a committed relationship, having both come off divorces, and they’d kept any really personal questions off the table.

  Then Wood had remarried, moved out, and Greg still had not received an invitation to her place. They always liaised at his rented apartment near the hospital. He’d actually been hoping to change that. As months passed, and they still enjoyed each other’s company, he’d found Elaina on his mind from the moment he awoke in the morning. He’d been thinking he wanted her beside him in bed in the morning, rather than just her image in his mind, and that maybe they should live together—had even been considering accepting the permanent ED position Oceanfront had offered him six weeks before—when Elaina had abruptly broken things off with him.

  Having had time to reflect on the matter since, he realized that the breakup was not only inevitable but in good timing. He’d been about to embark on a path and make past mistakes again, push for something before it could get away from him, and end up with another life mess to clean up.

  Much better that he focus his efforts on eight-year-old Brooklyn George, the patient whom he’d had Elaina test that afternoon. A recent meeting of a special hospital charting committee to which they’d both been assigned, had led to a suspicion that some in the hospital weren’t following protocol as carefully as necessary. The committee of four had been established to spot-check charting in all departments for compliance. They’d discovered some discrepancies in chain of command for medication distribution. He and Elaina had had a specific conversation, just the two of them, one night over dinner when they’d still been seeing each other, regarding the possibility of problems in drug administration. They’d brought up a particular nurse, but hadn’t mentioned her to their colleagues, not wanting to hurt this woman’s reputation if they’d been wrong. They had reported her to hospital personnel, and while they had no knowledge of the outcome of the issue, the nurse was still on staff. And was the nurse who’d been responsible for administering medication to Brooklyn the last time the child had been in the hospital.

  While his personal life, in terms of relationships, was pretty much a disaster, he tended to get it right professionally. Probably came from all those years of nerd-dom as a kid. For him, observing others, as opposed to interacting with them, had been the norm. He’d honed an ability to read people with whom he wasn’t personally involved.

  Maybe, if he found a way to take a step back, he’d master the ability in nonprofessional relationships, as well. One could always hope.

  He turned onto Elaina’s street, slowing as he took in the landscaped spaces and well-maintained homes. He wanted a large yard, as well.

  Wanted a home of his own. Maybe something like the white two-story with black shutters he was passing. At the moment, though, he was on the brink of accepting a position in LA, with the promise to himself that once he made that final choice, once he’d found his permanent professional home, he was going to buy a house.

  He’d always thought marriage would come first. Discussion of how big a family would follow so he’d know what size house to purchase.

  Then he’d found out he couldn’t father children, and the shadowy little figures in his design had faded off the page.

  And since his marriage had failed, in large part because of his infertility, he’d changed the course of his life plan.

  He was back on track, though. Ready to stay the course. His career was his life and he wanted to own a home.

  No more quests for his happily-ever-after.

  Finding the address she’d given him, he turned into the long drive. While it was nice, it seemed...pretty much like the rest of them on the street. And on many other upper-middle-class streets all across the nation.

  Like his relationships with women, he’d made it into more than it was.

  Thank God he was done with all that.

  * * *

  To meet Greg, Elaina had changed out of her scrubs into a pair of black leggings and a longish beige sweater with short sleeves, and black suede bootlets. Slicking her long, dark hair back in a fresh ponytail, she’d put in a pair of small, plain gold ball earrings Wood had purchased for her on the day their divorce had become final.

  He’d said they were a symbol of the bond they’d always have.

  It was only later that she’d begun to wonder if they’d been a sign that he intended to remain devoted only to her for as long as she needed him. A sign she hadn’t wanted to see.

  Because she’d needed to believe that he felt free to leave anytime he wanted to do so.

  And she’d put them on specifically in preparation for her meeting with Greg because she wasn’t going to fall into her old habits. She would not use Greg Adams to ease any of the burden of single parenting as she birthed and raised his child.

  She would not let herself become more enamored of him. She would make herself remember that she’d chosen to break up with him, and she most definitely would not let herself build a fantasy world where they became one big happy family.

  Beyond that, she would give him as much contact with his child as he wanted. And be completely supportive if he wanted no contact at all.

  She’d had several hours to figure it all out and stood firm on her resolutions.

  So much so that she barely registered that he’d evidently come straight from work, was still in the light blue scrub pants and white T-shirt that he generally wore to and from the hospital. He kept in his office the scrub shirts and the white coats he wore for work, and changed them as necessary throughout the day.

  She’d been in his office, seen the closet full of them...

  His slightly curly sandy hair was mussed, as it generally was at the end of a shift, and the bit of stubble shading his jaw was normal after a day’s work, too. Nothing she’d have had to go to bed with him to know.

  The expanse of soft hair on his chest...

  No reason for her to be thinking about that. So she turned from the door before either of them had even said hello and led the way out to the big backyard.

  Retro’s yard, though Wood’s dog didn’t live there anymore. Wood had put in the kiva fireplace that flanked one end of the pool and the outdoor kitchen space off to the left of that, too. He’d planted rosebushes for her, and when she’d suggested it, had built his workshop in the back corner of the yard so it didn’t spoil the naturally landscaped view. She liked the rugged look.

  In the yard, not necessarily on her man—though Wood had never really been that. He
r man. Their supportive bond had been mostly platonic.

  “Elaina?”

  She’d heard the front door shut behind him. The sound of footsteps following behind her was rare.

  And not just since Wood had married Cassie. Their lives had settled into a routine of her mostly remaining alone in her suite when she was home. She’d been satisfied enough with the arrangement that she’d probably have continued it indefinitely if Wood hadn’t found out Cassie’s baby—his, biologically, from a sperm donation years earlier—required a bone marrow donation. If the two hadn’t had to meet and fallen in love.

  She’d like to believe her yearnings and needs, her coming back to full emotional life, needing a child of her own, was all Cassie’s fault for rocking their very stationary boat. But of course, she couldn’t, and it wasn’t.

  Turning, she faced Greg, so caught up in memories that she completely forgot the words she’d planned to say.

  He held up a folder he’d carried in with him. “I’ve made a spreadsheet of all instances where Martha charted on Brooklyn,” he said. Standing at the table as he opened the folder, he pulled out a piece of paper and laid it down in her direction.

  What?

  She looked at the paper, glad for the chance it gave her not to meet his gaze. How was she going to tell him that they were going to have a baby?

  She couldn’t do it. How did she look at this man who she’d chosen not to be with, and tell him that she was pregnant with his child? And how could she focus on a patient right now?

  “You’ll notice that each time Brooklyn was in, Martha scanned medication out for her, and there was no matching scan from Brooklyn’s wristband signifying administration. It’s exactly what we’ve talked about...”

  Wait. What? She glanced over at him without considering that she’d be looking him in the eye—an occasion she’d decided it was best to try to avoid. Just until they got through this difficult first step.

  The intensity in those golden green orbs stabbed her for a second. Until she took a breath. And a step back from the table between them.

  “I...um...didn’t call you here to discuss Brooklyn,” she told him. She’d done the scans he’d requested. Found nothing to warrant a meeting between them. Had charted the lack of change from previous tests.

  “Oh.” His blink gave her the chance to look away. She took it. Desperately.

  Gratefully.

  And wished she’d left them talking about Brooklyn.

  “Look, if you’re feeling bad about breaking things off, I’m fine with it. I told you that at the time. I hope my reaching out to you today didn’t make you feel like I was expecting anything.”

  “Of course not!” Her gaze darted back to him. “The thought never even crossed my mind! I’m glad you reached out. And was happy to work the scans in first thing...”

  He nodded, and she glanced away.

  “So...” He moved closer as his voice softened. “What is this then? You want to get dinner or something?”

  He was not hitting on her. He couldn’t be. But her lower body flooded with reaction, anyway. For a second there she went with it. Dinner would be so much easier than the item on her agenda.

  “Really?” she asked him. If she’d wanted food, she’d have asked for it. Or offered it. He knew her well enough to know that.

  But she couldn’t blame Greg for scrambling. In all the months she’d known him, she’d never invited him to her place. And then, out of the blue, she suddenly had, a month after breaking up with him.

  “I’m pregnant, Greg.”

  Both of his hands slid quietly to the table. He made no other movement. Just stood there. Looking at her.

  “I don’t know how it happened. I mean...well...of course...we know how it happened...but how it happened when we...when I...the only thing I can figure is that my device moved before that last time...you know...when we were done and then did it once more...”

  And she called herself a doctor? Had a license to practice medicine?

  “We?” His expression, the frown, showed confusion more than blame, but...

  “I didn’t get this way by myself,” she said, kind of perplexed herself. She’d been prepared for disbelief. For him to be upset, even. But she wasn’t sure how to deal with this one-word reaction. Like he wasn’t part of the situation.

  “Well, you certainly didn’t get there with my help, if that’s what you’re trying to tell me,” he said. As he spoke, he stood upright and then crossed his arms across the chest she’d been imagining naked moments before, as though for emphasis.

  Or to shut her out.

  Either way, she was shocked. In all of the numbers of ways she’d imagined him reacting, denial hadn’t been one of them.

  “You need to get with whoever else you’ve been with,” he continued, his tone calm, assured. “Because I can tell you for sure it wasn’t me.”

  What? A thousand times, what? “You’re the only man I’ve slept with in a couple of years.”

  He shook his head. Was his gaze one of compassion? He felt sorry for her? “Give it up, Elaina. I’m not going to fall for this one.”

  Fall for... She started shaking her head, too. It was like she’d been transported into some kind of twilight zone. A nightmare where things got all twisted up and didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t get out.

  That was it. She just had to wake up.

  “I’m not trying to get you to fall for anything,” she said, clearly, calmly, feeling as though she was outside her own body, watching the nightmare. Waiting for it to end. “I’m asking nothing from you. I planned to tell you that you have no obligation here. I’ll leave your name off the birth certificate so that you have no financial obligation. I just felt that, morally, you had a right to know.”

  His frown grew until every inch of his face bore a portion of it. “Why are you doing this?”

  How could she have thought she’d liked him so much? How could she have been friends with benefits with him, worked with him, for over a year and not have seen this jerk side of him? He was doubting her integrity?

  “I’d like you to leave now,” she said. Pushing him out was the only thing left to her. She was too stunned, too hurt, to deal with him.

  He shook his head again, dropping his arms, but otherwise making no movement—certainly not doing anything to get himself any closer to the front door. “I’m not the father, Elaina.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you, and since I’m not asking anything of you, this conversation is over. I’ve done what I felt was the right thing to do. I’ve told you. Now I’d like to be left alone to get on with my life.”

  Whether he noted her tone, a look in her eye, or was just plain ready to be done with her, she didn’t know, but when Greg gave her one last nod, and a long, somewhat searching look, then turned and let himself back out of her house, she was relieved to see him go.

  And to lock her door behind him.

  She and her baby would be just fine on their own.

  Chapter Three

  Greg didn’t get it. What possible reason could Elaina have for naming him the father of her child, but only in conversation with him...with no intention of getting something out of him?

  The answer was none. Her actually being pregnant by him was a medical impossibility, and she apparently wasn’t after his money, so what reason could she have for making such a claim?

  The irony was almost too much to bear.

  Elaina was pregnant?

  Shaking his head as he drove the fifteen minutes from her neighborhood to his apartment, Greg couldn’t get his short time at Elaina’s home out of his mind.

  Couldn’t wrap his mind around it, either.

  Elaina was drop-dead gorgeous. She didn’t need to snare a man. And he knew she just wasn’t the type to do so. To the contrary, she’d been adamant about going it alone whe
n she’d broken up with him. Something about having been blind to a neediness within her, with which she’d unknowingly prevented men from finding their own happiness.

  Even minutes before, when she’d been telling him about his supposed baby she’d been all about going it alone. Asking for nothing from him.

  Her reputation at Oceanfront was stellar. She was compassionate, yet completely able to get any job done, no matter how emotionally difficult it could be. She stayed late, came in early. Served on committees with such meaningful contribution that she was one of the first picks among staff when a new committee was formed.

  She’d even been a dream in bed.

  His gut clenched on that one, another jab of the familiar pang of having lost her, and he passed by his street, continuing on to a beach parking lot. He didn’t get out. The March air, while balmy, still carried a bit of a chill after dark. But he rolled down his window a couple of inches. Enough that, if he concentrated, he could hear a hint of the soothing sound of waves moving along the shore.

  At one point in his life, he’d been certain he wanted nothing more than to have a child. He’d been married to a woman he’d thought he loved. He’d finished his residency. Completing two of his major life goals; the third was becoming a father.

  You’re the only man I’ve slept with in a couple of years. If only Elaina knew how badly he’d like to believe that statement.

  Especially considering the timing of the pregnancy. She’d said she was breaking up with him because she needed to be alone—without a man in her life. She had to have met someone else to be pregnant now.

  For the next five or so minutes, he contemplated who that someone else might be. He considered her ex-husband, Wood, as a possibility.

  There’d been something really tight between them.

  But in all the time Greg had been sleeping with Elaina, he’d never had a sense that she and Wood had ever had that hot-for-each-other kind of relationship. She’d been so amazed by the fire between her and Greg.