Christmas Babies (8 page)

“Have you tried to find your
birth parents?” She regretted the question the second she blurted it out. Would
he resent her curiosity? “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

A one-sided smile curled his mouth
“I have no secrets for you.”

Oh God. She had plenty. Why
couldn’t she get herself to confide in him?

Because he’d put his director’s
hat on and used his authoritative tone to demand...who knows what.

“To answer your question, yes, I
tried to find my birth parents. First I asked Dad about them. He got upset and
said to drop the subject and stop being ungrateful. They were dead and I’d
never find anything about them. Mom cried and said I was the most precious
person in the world.”

“What about your certificate of
adoption? You needed official papers to apply for college. Right?” Interested
in spite of herself, she wanted to learn about the adoption procedure. If only
to help the sweet things she carefully held in her arms.

“Dad gave me a birth certificate
showing Frank David Preston as my father and Anne Lee Meyer as my mother.”

“Born in what hospital, what
city?”

Nick shrugged. “Born in a clinic
that doesn’t exist anymore in New Haven, Connecticut. The birth certificate was
probably a fake my parents managed to get by bribing someone. I couldn’t
discover anything at the City Hall. Upset by my questions, Dad shouted that I
was born abroad. So...” He opened his hands. “I don’t know anything about my
roots, my real country, my birth parents, my genes. I’d rather not risk
transmitting criminal genes to any children.”

“Oh Nick, don’t say that. You
have nothing criminal about you.”

“I’ll never know.” He came closer
to her and touched the babies’ cheeks delicately. “Who knows? Maybe I have a
twin somewhere.”

 “What?” Horrified, Madelyn
searched his face for a sign of sadness. None. Just a blank expression as if he
was analyzing the possibility.

“Anyway, I came to invite you to
visit my new home. The furniture—what I have so far—is in place. I need help
with the decoration. I’ll order a pizza. Six okay?”

“I’ll be there around six. I love
decorating.” She nodded and smiled, happy that Nick wanted more of her company.
They saw each other every day in delivery or at the hospital cafeteria, and
went out together for dinner three days ago.

A wail alerted her. Celia
fidgeted. Liana immediately echoed her twin.

Madelyn lowered her eyes. And
gasped at the awkward position of Celia, her head too deep in the crook of Madelyn’s
elbow. She tried to raise the preemie but her right hand felt weird. Tingling
spread in her arm and soon tickled her feet.

What was going on? She had her
pills two hours ago. Their effect shouldn’t have dwindled already. Was her mal
escalating?

Not now, please
.

Her left hand’s fingers spasmed
on the baby’s wrap. Dread dried her throat. She was stuck in a difficult
situation with Nick in front of her.

“Nick, call Sandra,” she groaned,
her gaze shifting from one baby to the other and watching her own fingers. “I
can’t take care of the two.”

Unaware of her drama, he
chuckled. “I’ll help you.” He grabbed Celia and laid her in her bassinette, and
then took Liana and set her in hers. Both babies screamed louder. “They like it
better in your arms.”

Madelyn had already pressed the
nurse’s number. “It’s already 3:30. I’ll have a round in the nursery.” Worried
her feet wouldn’t carry her, she didn’t move from the rocking chair.

“Three-thirty? We have a
C-section in fifteen minutes. See you in delivery.” He left her at the same
time Sandra stormed into the room.

“What’s up?”

“The twins are crying. I think
they need a bottle.”

Sandra opened big eyes. “You had
me rush here because they’re crying?” Her lips stretched in frustration and she
clamped her fists on her hips. “Explain to me how you and Nick can save babies’
lives any time, yet you don’t know the abc of how to handle them. The babies
were comfy in your arms. They don’t like it in their cribs so they protest.
Simple.” She quickly checked their diapers. “They’re not wet and probably not
hungry. You want them back?”

“No.” Madelyn was not in a laughing
mood. She gripped the arms of the chair and stood, took a deep breath and a
step forward. Dizziness overwhelmed her. She backed up and fell in her seat.

“Madelyn, what’s wrong? You’re so
pale.” Sandra seized her wrist and took her pulse. “It’s low.”

“I know. Give me a glass of
water, please. And don’t ask questions now.” She rummaged in her scrubs’ pocket
for the little bottle.

Waiting in front of her with the
glass of water, Sandra observed her as she fumbled with the damned tight lid
she couldn’t unscrew. “Here’s your water. I’ll open this for you.” The nurse
grabbed the bottle, twisted the lid open, and handed it back to her. “Take your
pill and tell me what’s going on.”

Madelyn swallowed her medicine
and leaned her head on the back of the chair. “I’m tired. Leave me alone.”

“Not on your life. I need to know
what’s wrong with you so I can help.”

Giving up the pretense, Madelyn
gave her the bottle.

“I don’t understand.” A frown of
anxiety pleated Sandra’s forehead. “You can’t have epilepsy?”

“In fact, I do. Had all the tests
to prove it. We thought these pills would control it. They did for a week, but
now the symptoms are escalating. Listen, Nick is waiting for me for a
c-section. Ask Kathy to sub for me. Tell her I’ll return the favor whenever she
wants. I have to go to Miami right away to see Dr. Lu, my neurologist.”

“I’ll call Kathy. Then I’ll have
Hailey replace me here, and I’ll drive you.”

“I don’t need—”

“Don’t argue with me. Save your
strength.”

Madelyn closed her eyes. Maybe it
was better to have Sandra with her. So much angst clouded her mind at the
moment she could risk an accident, especially with the rush hour traffic on the
highway.

Efficient as always, Sandra led
her to her car. In less than five minutes, they zoomed down the freeway. “Relax
and try to sleep,” the nurse wisely advised.

“I can’t.”

“In that case, tell me your
story.”

****

“Where’s Madelyn?” Nick frowned
when he saw Kathy walk in the OR.

“Don’t know. Sandra called me on
her behalf and asked me to assist you.”

Befuddlement froze him for a few
seconds. Madelyn would never skip surgery without notifying the obstetrician in
charge. What was wrong with her? Yet he wouldn’t reveal his worry in front of
his staff.

“Okay. Let’s start.” He
approached the operating bed. “The patient is on term. I don’t expect
complications.”

“Thank you, doctor.” A young man dressed
as a medic and holding a camera hovered around his expectant wife and shot
pictures in all directions.

“Give us space, please.” Nick motioned
him away and proceeded with the C-section. A moment later, he extracted an
eight pounder boy and handed him to Kathy.

“Beautiful big boy,” he told the
happy dad.

“Thank you, doctor. Thank you so
much.” His eye glued to the camera, the man repeated his words of gratitude
like a litany but didn’t interrupt his videotaping. “Thank...”

Eager to find out what happened
to Madelyn, Nick closed the patient’s gaping abdomen. “How’s the baby?”

“Perfect,” Kathy said. “Normal
vitals. I’ll check him again tonight. I’ll probably discharge him tomorrow.”

“Same with the mom. You can wheel
her to recovery,” he ordered the nurses.

“Thank you, doctors. Thank you.”
The new father walked behind his wife’s gurney and raised his camera for a few
last pictures until the door of Recovery automatically closed in his face.

Pleased to contribute to a new
family’s joy, Nick tapped him on the shoulder. “Congratulations.” He pointed to
a door. “This way. Why don’t you have a coffee at the cafeteria while your wife
recovers? Then you can both enjoy your new baby.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

They were done here. Nick threw
his operating gown, mask, and gloves and strutted out of the OR. “Why on earth
had Madelyn skipped the scheduled delivery?” he mumbled under his breath the
question that had kept swirling in his mind during the procedure. She’d never
done that before.

He went straight to her office,
knocked, and turned the knob without waiting for an answer. The room was empty,
but he noticed her clothes hanging on the hook behind the door. So she was
still in her scrubs. And at the hospital.

Probably in the NICU, a place she
seemed to favor. He shook his head indulgently. It made sense for a
neonatologist to spend a lot of time with the preemies. Yeah, but recently
she’d visited the newborns every moment she wasn’t in Delivery—particularly the
twins she’d called Liana and Celia. Not good for her morale. And not wise, professionally.

Nick retreated out of her office
and strode to the Children floor. Two nurses oversaw the regular nursery,
changing, feeding, and checking about twenty healthy newborns.

“Hi Dr. Preston,” they both said
with bright smiles as he grabbed a sterile gown to cover his scrubs. Amazing,
this was his second time in this area today. He rarely came to the nursery where
neonatologists and pediatricians restricted visitors. As Director, he made the
resolution to visit more often. After exchanging a few words with the nurses, he
continued to the NICU.

Darn, where was Madelyn? He
approached the twins’ cribs. One was awake and fretting, her arms and legs jerking
in all directions. She gave him a timid smile. He chuckled. Madelyn would have
melted at the baby’s antics. “I wish you could tell me where your favorite
doctor is.” He stepped closer to reach for the baby.

His foot hit something that
rolled. He bent down and retrieved a small bottle of medicine. And
automatically read the prescription stuck on it.
Madelyn Ramsey
.
Phenytoin.
3x w meal.

Unable to understand what he saw,
he frowned, and re-read the name and drug. Why would Madelyn use an
anti-epilepsy drug? Maybe she filled an empty bottle with aspirins? No, her
name was on it. He twisted the cap open and poured the pills in his gloved
hand. He carefully deciphered the tiny letters on each capsule.
Phenytoin
.

His brain still blank, he counted
eight pills left in the bottle. The prescription indicated 30 pills had been
dispensed on December 2. The day his promotion was announced. The day Madelyn
suddenly changed her attitude and decided she wanted to have fun.

Pictures played in his mind. Madelyn
in a tight strapless dress dancing but not drinking. Tapping the floor of his
car and listening to rock music. Madelyn in the OR, sitting on a stool to
perform a resuscitation procedure. Darn, she’d been afraid to drop the
preemies. His pulse skittered and raced as the nonsense started to make sense.

Madelyn swearing off all
commitment. She knew she should avoid pregnancy at all cost while on this drug.
Only kisses
. She hadn’t trusted him and kept him at bay as if he was an
inexperienced boy who’d get his lovers pregnant.

Fury pounded the veins in his
temples. She hadn’t trusted him at all.

Not as a lover. Not as a friend.
Not even as her boss and colleague. When was she planning to tell him about her
illness?

He exhaled loudly and pocketed
the bottle of pills.

As if sensing the anger in the
air, one of the twins wailed and the other followed suit. He glanced at them. The
two little bundles wanted help. Someone to guess and meet their needs. Or
better even, a mother to love them. Nick’s anger melted. No wonder Madelyn had
spent so much time with these babies in the last ten days. They had no mother.
And they’d stirred a maternal instinct she’d ignored so far.

Sorrow engulfed him. He entwined
his fingers and cracked his knuckles. The babies screamed louder. “Relax.
Shh...” As if they were going to quiet down. “Sorry, I only deliver babies. I
don’t know how to take care of them. I’ll get you someone.” He noticed a nurse
at the end of the room, changing another preemie. “Hailey,” he called. “These
two want you.”

“I’ll get to them, Dr. Preston. As
soon as I’m done here.”

“Have you seen Dr. Ramsay?”

“Sandra took her to run an
errand,” the nurse said while changing her tiny patient.

“I see.” Sandra had probably
rushed her to her doctor. Madelyn must have been in a critical condition to let
someone help her.

Then it hit. He’d stood in front
of her when she’d acted weird and wanted Sandra to take care of the babies. He’d
put them in the crib and she’d called the nurse.

Good Lord, she’d felt a seizure
coming. And she didn’t tell him. He could have kicked himself for not noticing
she was in pain. Medical pain.

His breathing labored, he walked
out of the NICU and yanked off his sterile gown. He strode back to her office,
admitted himself, and dropped down on her chair to rehash what he wanted to
tell her. Should he reprimand as a boss, chastise as a friend, or beg for her
trust?

Ten minutes later, the door burst
open. Madelyn froze in her tracks. “Nick, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. We need to
talk. You didn’t show up for a scheduled surgery.”

A deep sigh betrayed her
weariness. “I asked Kathy to sub for me.”

“Why didn’t you notify me, Dr.
Ramsay?” When would she trust him enough to reveal her secret? Damn it, she’d
confided in Sandra.

She lowered her head and rubbed
her forehead. “You’re right. We have to talk. But first, Dr. Preston, I have to
give you my resignation.”

Chapter Six

“Your resignation? No way.” Of
all the things he’d imagined Madelyn would say, Nick hadn’t seen this one
coming. “You’re too good of a doctor. One of the best neonatologists in
Florida.”