Baby, Oh Baby! (8 page)

Annie stared at Henry numbly.

The man let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his head. "I hate to say it, Annie, but I've seen money influence the outcome of custody judgments in all too many cases."

"But Madeline's my flesh and blood. I'm her mother!"

Henry gave a lopsided nod. And if the blood tests confirm it, Chastaine's her father. You told me yourself you thought he was."

Tears welled up in Annie's eyes. She blinked hard, trying to hold them back.

            Henry leaned forward and awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Look, Annie. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but your best bet is to try to work out an amicable arrangement with this man."

Annie fought a childish urge to put her hands over her ears.

"Madeline could do a lot worse than Jake Chastaine for a father," Henry continued. "His money and connections could open a lot of doors for her on down the road."

"If I'd wanted to share my child with a man, I would have just gotten pregnant the old-fashioned way!"

The high-pitched whine of a hearing aid made Annie turn toward the doorway. Pearl stood in the doorway, leaning on the baby stroller, her curly white hair forming a wild white halo, her eyes round and wide behind thick plastic trifocals. She appeared for all the world to be eavesdropping.

Henry wheeled his chair to face the doorway as well. "Turn down your hearing aid, Pearl." Henry tapped his fingertip against his ear.

"All right, all right." Pearl fiddled with the gadget, and the screeching noise halted. Madeline kicked her feet against the footrest of the white and blue stroller and smiled gaily at Annie. Annie grinned and waved at her child.

"If you don't mind, Pearl," Henry continued, "this is a private conversation."

“Shucks. All the interesting conversations around here are private ones," Pearl grumbled. She looked at Annie. "I couldn't help but overhear you, dear. I know I'm not supposed to meddle in other people's business, but I haven't lived this long without learnin' a few things, and one of the things I've learned is that some old-fashioned ways don't need any improvin'. Makin' babies God's way is at the top of the list. Why, I remember when my husband and I were your age—my goodness, if we hadn't had to work to eat and eat to live, we would have been baby-makin clean around the clock. Why, I remember one afternoon in particular, when—"

Henry made a choking sound that ended in a fit of coughing,. At length he cleared his throat. "If you don't mind, Pearl, Annie and I are discussing a legal matter."

"We'll be finished in a few moments," Annie added. "Is Madeline behaving for you?"

"She's being a perfect angel. We're taking a little stroll down the hallway."

"I'll catch up with you as soon as Henry and I are finished."

"Guess that's my cue to leave, eh?"

Henry nodded.

The old woman teetered down the hall, leaning on the baby stroller as if it were a walker.

Henry's mouth curved in an apologetic grin. Annie tried to smile, but her lips refused to cooperate. She placed a hand on her side, where a sharp pain was developing.'

Henry regarded her, his eyes kind but solemn. "As I was saying, Annie, you need to think of the child's best interests."

"I am thinking of Madeline's interests. That's why I chose to have her by artificial insemination in the first place."

Henry's right brow lifted quizzically.

Annie folded her arms around her stomach. "My parents had a lousy marriage," she explained. "I was married once myself, and that marriage was lousy, too. I'd love to have a marriage like Ben and Helen have or like my grandparents had, but those seem to be awfully rare. I know from personal experience how hard it is on children when their parents don't love each other. Rather than put my child through that, I decided to have my baby without the complications of a man."

Annie sighed and gazed out the window at the courtyard. Two elderly women in wheelchairs rolled side-by- side across the patio toward a flowerbed of marigolds. "I thought I was making sure my child would never be caught in a tug-of-war between her parents. But now it looks like Madeline's going to be caught in the middle anyway."

Henry drummed his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair and regarded her solemnly. "I'll help you any way I can, Annie, but you need to give this matter some serious thought. I want you to go home and ask yourself if you really want to deprive your child of the love of a father."

"He doesn't love her. He doesn't even know her!"

"From what you told me, that's not his fault, is it?" Annie hated to concede the point, but she had no choice. She glumly shook her head.

"You need to take that into consideration, Annie," Henry said gently. "And if Mr. Chastaine contacts you again ...”

"Not if. When," Annie said bitterly.

"Well, when he contacts you, I advise you to be cordial to him, to talk to him and find out what he wants. Don't give him any reaction—don't agree or disagree or argue about anything. Your goal—your assignment, if you will—is to figure out what he's after. Then give me a call, and we'll work from there."

"Okay." The word came out on the tail of a sigh. The right side of Henry's 'brow furrowed. "Are you. all right? You don't look so welt."

"I'm feeling a little under the weather," Annie admitted. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

To put it mildly. She'd tossed and turned all night, then awakened with a headache and a dull ache in her side. The pain seemed to be getting sharper, and now she was feeling queasy to boot. The stress of the situation was really taking a toll on her.

The intercom speaker overhead crackled to life. "Ladies and gentlemen, our weekly bingo competition is about to begin in the front parlor."'

Annie rose from the sofa. "Thanks for your help, Henry. I'd better go get Madeline so Pearl won't miss her game." She stretched out her hand.

Henry gave it a warm squeeze. "I know this is upsetting, but it's going to all work out."

"I don't see how."

"It will, Annie. You just have to have faith."

Faith didn't seem like much of a weapon against a big gun like Jake Chastaine, Annie thought woefully. She headed down the hall to collect her child, suddenly. anxious to hold her child, to feel the little girl's chubby arms around her neck, to inhale her sweet, milky scent. Madeline was her life, the very heart of her heart. The thought of a stranger laying claim to her knifed at Annie's soul.

And yet, against her will, Henry's words echoed through her mind-do you really want to deprive your child of the love of a father?

Chapter Five

The soft tinkle of silver and fine crystal greeted Jake as he entered the formal dining room of the Southern Oaks Country Club in north Tulsa that evening. His stomach tensed as he spotted Tom and Susanna at their usual table in the corner. He wasn't looking forward to telling them the news about the baby, and yet it wasn't something he could very well keep secret. His former in-laws were the closest thing he had to family, and Tom was his business partner as well. In the normal course of things, he already would have talked to Tom about the situation, but the older man had been at an out-of-town legal seminar for the past two days.

With a nod to the maitre d', Jake wound his way through the maze of linen-covered tables. He hadn't been here in a couple of years, yet the place was unchanged. The carpet was still so thick it felt like quicksand, the walls still hung with expensive oil paintings, the tables still set with glimmering votives and fresh flowers. It was fine dining in its highest form, the kind of place where the silver was real and the crystal had more lead in it than the James gang after their final shootout. The place was too staid for Jake's tastes, but it was one of Tom's favorite restaurants, and Jake had often dined here with his in-laws and Rachel.

They hadn't come here together since her death. Jake glanced toward the chair where Rachel had always sat, and was relieved to note that a waiter had removed it.

"Jake—I'm so glad you could join us." Susanna smiled up as he reached the table.

"I'm so glad you asked me." Jake had been surprised when his mother-in-law had called that morning and invited him to join her and Tom at the club. The woman had turned into something of a recluse since Rachel's death. Tom had privately complained to Jake that she seldom left the house, had no interest in seeing friends, and had dropped all of the civic work she had before cared so fervently about. According to Tom, Susanna sometimes didn't even get out of bed. Even when she did, she often spent entire days in her bathrobe.

On the few occasions when Jake had been to their home since the accident—holiday dinners and a couple of times when Tom had barbecued by the pool—Susanna had been as impeccably groomed as ever, but the sparkle had been missing from her eyes. Instead of actively joining the conversation, she'd sat quietly, only speaking when addressed.

After the last visit, Jake had asked Tom about it. "Is she angry at me?"

"Why would she be angry?"

Jake had lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, but he'd looked away, unable to meet Tom's gaze. "Well, if I'd gone to the airport to pick up my folks instead of asking Rachel to go, she'd still be here.”

 His father-in-law had patted Jake's shoulder in a paternal fashion. "Don't be ridiculous. Susanna doesn't blame you. Neither of us do."

"She sure acts distant."

Tom had given a sad smile. "Susanna's distant to everyone. Especially me."

Judging from the warm way she was smiling tonight, though, she was back to her old self. She looked like the woman Jake remembered—the one who loved life, who took an active interest in everything around her, and who always looked out for the comfort and welfare of others.

Jake bent and kissed her cheek, inhaling the scent of her White Shoulders perfume. Jake knew the name of her favorite fragrance because Rachel had sent him to purchase a bottle one year when it had been his turn to do the Christmas shopping. The memory brought a pang.

Jake hid it with a smile. "You look wonderful."

It wasn't just an empty compliment. Susanna was in her mid-fifties, but she looked at least a decade younger. Her figure was slim, her skin pale and unlined, her hair dark and pulled back in a stylish French twist. She wore a black dress with a pearl necklace. It was a simple outfit, but on Susanna, it looked expensive and stunning.

She treated him to a dazzling smile. "Thank you. So do you."

"It's good to see you out and about."

"It's good to be that way." Fingering her pearls, she leaned forward and spoke in a confiding tone. "My friend Joan dragged me to a doctor. He's been treating me for clinical depression, and, well, the medicine seems to be working."

"That's wonderful."

Tom made a sound deep in his throat. "It won't be wonderful if she gets hooked on that stuff?'

Susanna turned and gazed at him, her dark eyes earnest. "The doctor assured me that antidepressants aren't habit forming."

"That's what they used to say about Valium, and you know what happened to my mother."

Jake looked at Tom, trying to hide his surprise. He'd never heard the older man refer to his parents before. All he knew about his father-in-law's family was that they'd lived up north and died before Rachel was born. Evidently an old skeleton was rattling around in the back of the family closet.

Susanna gave Jake an apologetic grin. "Tom thinks anyone with any type of mental illness is ready for the loony bin."

"You're not mentally ill, and you don't need that medicine," her husband said gruffly. "You just need to get out of the house. I've been after you to do it for months."

Jake didn't miss the wounded look that flitted across Susanna's face. "Well, I'm out now," she said softly.

Jake lifted his glass. "And I, for one, am mighty glad to see it." He gave the woman a smile, then turned to her husband. "How did things go in Denver?"

"Good." Tom took a long drink from his wine glass. "I made some new contacts that might come in handy on down the road."

"How was the meeting with Allco Petroleum?" "Great. Looks like the merger will go through." "No surprises?"

"Not until I got to the Tulsa airport." Tom glanced over at his wife.

"What happened there?"

"Susanna met me at the gate."

Jake's eyes widened. The airport was the last place he'd expect Susanna to go—especially on one of her first outings from the house in months. Rachel's accident had happened just outside the airport entrance.

Susanna lifted her shoulders and gave a sheepish smile. "I thought Tom would be pleasantly surprised. Instead, I'm afraid I alarmed him."

"Damn right," Tom growled. "I thought someone must have died."

Crimony, Jake thought, looking at Susanna's crestfallen face. And Tom thinks I need to brush up on my people skills. He shot his mother-in-law a teasing wink. "Hey, now—Susanna is far too pretty to be mistaken for the Grim Reaper." L

"That didn't come out quite right." Tom reached out and patted his wife's hand, but his grin didn't reach his eyes. "I was just- surprised to see you, that's all. It was so out of character that I thought there must be some kind of emergency."

"I used to meet you at the airport all the time," Susanna said softly, turning her hand and squeezing his fingers.

"Yeah, well, it's been a while." He pulled away his hand and reached for his drink.

Susanna gazed at him, a wounded look in her eyes. Jake was relieved when the waiter stepped forward to take his drink order.

"Did anyone else from Tulsa attend the conference?" He asked to fill the silence after the waiter retreated.

Tom turned the glass in his hand. "Just, uh, Kelly Banyon. You know Kelly, don't you, Jake?"

He knew Kelly, all right. A curvacious blonde in her late thirties who worked at a competing law firm, she wore short skirts and the smile of a woman on the make. She and Tom had been on opposite sides of a hostile takeover attempt last month, and she'd spent a lot of  time in Tom's office, working out the details of an •     agreement.