His Baby Dream (Safe Harbor Medical) (8 page)

“Why is that any of their business?” Peter flared. “I know multiple pregnancies can be risky. But isn’t that the woman’s decision?”

“Personally, I suspect some of those countries, which tend to have government-paid medical care, are more concerned about the cost of a high-risk pregnancy,” Cole responded. “However, that may be uncharitable of me.”

“What about in the U.S.?”

“Doctors are allowed reasonable discretion, although there are guidelines,” the doctor said. “A lot depends on the circumstances. In this situation, we would transfer no more than three.”

“But we can save the others?”

“Yes. If there are extras, they’ll be frozen,” Cole agreed. “You can use them later or donate them to other families.”

Peter hadn’t considered that possibility. “Then someone else would be raising my children.”

“This assisted fertility business gets complicated,” Cole observed. “Morally as well as medically.”

“So it does.”

“After the transfer, we’ll give you a printed report accounting for every oocyte and embryo,” the doctor informed him. “You’ll have full information.”

“Nothing slipshod about this operation.” High standards were one of the reasons Peter had chosen the program, along with up-to-the-minute technology and the convenient location.

“Any more questions?” Cole asked.

Might as well address the subject they’d been avoiding. “What do you think I should do about Harper?”

The urologist appeared to take a mental time-out as he stood considering. Most people would instinctively fill the silence with a flow of words. Not Cole.

That was fine with Peter. He didn’t want easy answers.

“Legally and medically, you’re within your rights to keep your role a secret,” Cole said at last. “But sooner or later she’s likely to find out.”

“You think so?” Although that possibility had occurred to Peter, he hadn’t seen it as inevitable.

“If you socialize with her, she’s almost certain to learn that you’re having a baby by a surrogate,” Cole said. “From there, it’s a short hop to connecting the dots.”

At some level, Peter had suspected that, as much as he’d tried to persuade himself otherwise. Yet he didn’t want to cancel the arrangement. “By the time the surrogate gets pregnant, won’t Harper be out of the picture?”

The doctor’s expression revealed nothing of his opinion. He must be a killer poker player. “Once the eggs are harvested, her role is finished.”

“So I don’t have to do anything?” Even as he formed the words, Peter knew he was splitting hairs.

“It depends on whether you care how she feels.”

To lose Harper’s friendship would be painful; to destroy her respect and trust would be worse. “I do, but these are going to be my kids,” he said. “I’m not willing to share custody.”

“If she violates her agreement to relinquish the offspring, then she’s the one on shaky ethical and legal ground,” Cole pointed out. “Although I have to admit, that sort of logic doesn’t always carry weight when people’s emotions are aroused.”

“You think she might sue?”

“If she does, I believe she’d lose,” the doctor said. “She signed a contract, and California law is well established on the subject.”

That wasn’t really Peter’s fear, anyway. It had more to do with...well, with what? Seeing the anguish on Harper’s face when she fell in love with his child and then had to give it up?

If that was so important to him, he shouldn’t have selected her in the first place. But she was the right mother...egg donor. He couldn’t imagine choosing anyone else.

“You may be overthinking this,” Cole went on. “I’ve heard her say how much she enjoys having time to spend with Mia and pursue her photography. Women are complicated—Stacy’s been giving me an education in that. I guess if you want to find out what they think, the best way is to listen to them.”

“First I’d have to tell her.”

“That would be a logical deduction.”

“And I’m very logical,” Peter muttered, although he could see that he’d been nothing of the sort. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Anytime.” Cole extended his hand, and they shook. “It will be only a few weeks before we move to the next phase of your fatherhood.”

Unless Harper shuts the whole thing down.
A definite risk if he came clean, Peter conceded.

He’d be seeing her Saturday. By then, he’d make a decision and, one way or the other, prepare to face the consequences.

Chapter Eight

A quiet summons from Nora to meet with her and Paige after hours on Friday filled Harper with dread. She had no doubt what this concerned, now that the two partners had had time to discuss her encounter with the surrogate.

Were they going to fire her? Although both were on staff at the hospital, and therefore under the direction of administrator Dr. Mark Rayburn, they owned their private practice and were her direct employers.

She’d never dreamed that becoming an egg donor might cost her this job. It wasn’t fair. But then, medical professionals risked their reputations and sometimes their careers with every decision they made.

That afternoon, Harper arranged with another parent to pick up Mia at sports camp. Not that she minded missing a possible encounter with Peter, whom she’d been avoiding since Wednesday.

By five-thirty, the last patient had been sent on her way with a printed-out summary of medical instructions, and Keely and the receptionist had departed. Squaring her shoulders, Harper went to learn her fate.

They met in Dr. Franco’s office. The obstetricians looked nothing alike—blonde, delicate Nora was dwarfed by her flame-haired partner—but both had larger-than-life personalities. Even seated, they overwhelmed the room, with its tidy desk, bookshelves and framed degrees and certificates.

Harper edged inside, staying close to the door as if ready to flee. Well, she
was.

“I suppose you know what we’re here to discuss,” Nora said.

Harper nodded. “It was an accident.”

“Keely explained how you came to be prepping Mrs. Ayres,” Paige said. “You were doing her, and me, a favor.”

Despite the encouraging words, Harper went on. “I didn’t tell her about my involvement.” She wished her tone didn’t sound so defensive.

Nora blew out a long breath. “All the same, it’s troubling. We haven’t reported this to anyone else, but we’ll need to.” “Anyone else” presumably included Dr. Owen Tartikoff, head of the fertility program, as well as Dr. Rayburn. Harper tried not to think about how scary she found those guys.

“And the recipient will have to be notified,” Paige put in.

“I plan to tell Peter myself,” Harper informed them. “We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss creating a picture book together.”

“A picture book?” Nora said. “That sounds like fun.”

“Are you guys dating?” Paige shook her head. “Sorry. None of my business. But I can’t believe he didn’t— I mean, this whole situation...”

“He should have told you,” finished her partner, who then added quickly, “I mean, I’m not confirming that he’s the father.”

“It’s obvious,” Harper replied. “And if he’d told me himself, we wouldn’t be in this jam.”

“But we are,” Paige said. “Patient confidentiality is primary.”

“Which patient’s?” Harper put in. “Mrs. Ayres’s or Peter’s?”

“Since the surrogate has agreed to meet with all parties, we’re mainly concerned with the father,” Nora replied. “And I consider him partly at fault. He must have been aware of the likelihood of your stumbling on the truth.”

The two doctors’ eyes met. Apparently they’d discussed this issue between them, and hadn’t entirely agreed.

“He might not see it that way,” Paige cautioned. “Men tend to compartmentalize more than women do.”

“And they always think they’re so rational,” Nora grumbled.

“Leo acting cranky?” her friend inquired.

“Oh, he’s putting in long hours on a difficult case.” Nora’s husband was an investigator with the Safe Harbor Police Department.

“He could always join Mike’s agency,” Paige teased. “Then he could work even longer hours for less money and fewer benefits.” Her husband, Mike Aaron, co-owned a detective agency.

Nora rolled her eyes. “It’s more than my life is worth to suggest such a thing. Leo plans to be chief someday.”

Harper clasped her hands and waited for them to return to the subject. Which, noticing her expression, they promptly did.

“Since you’re making disclosure to the...possible father,” Nora said, “we’ll wait till Monday to brief the powers that be.”

“You don’t think he might sue, do you?” Paige asked.

“If he does, I’ll sue him back.” Harper’s jaw tightened. She had no idea whether she had grounds, but in her opinion, Peter was the one who’d broken
her
trust.

“I’ll inform my brother-in-law on Monday, too,” Nora said. Tony Franco served as hospital attorney. “We should have done that earlier.”

Again, she and Paige locked gazes. Paige lost the staring contest.

As she left the office, Harper ran through a host of possibilities. What if Peter insisted she go ahead with the egg donation as a condition of his not making trouble? That would be blackmail, but perhaps not from his perspective.

As Dr. Franco had said, men tended to believe they were being rational. Even when they weren’t.

* * *

D
ESPITE
BEING
FAIRLY
certain that the book project was a dead issue, Harper slipped out early Saturday with her camera. Sitting on the grass in a rear corner of the yard, she waited and watched in the silver-gray light until a twinkle of orange caught her eye.

The butterfly had large black spots on its orange wings, and a span close to two inches. Carefully, she adjusted her settings and captured its luminous beauty.

“What are you doing, Mommy?”

Mia had reached her with barely a whisper of footsteps, and spoke near her mother’s ear. As a result, she didn’t frighten away the tiny creature.

“Remember I told you that Peter and I might work on a book?” While Harper regretted having informed her daughter, it was too late to undo that now. “I thought I’d see what I could find.”

Mia held up her new camera. “Can I take its picture, too?”

“Of course.”

A minute later, after the butterfly rambled off, they searched the internet on Harper’s phone for a match. “There it is!” She pointed at an image almost too small to see. “It’s called a tortoiseshell.”

Scrolling down, Mia gaped at a striped caterpillar. “Oh, my gosh! I nearly stepped on one of those. I almost killed a butterfly baby!”

“Accidents happen.” Harper refrained from noting that spiders and cockroaches also had babies, none of which she planned to preserve.

They took more photos, capturing a leafhopper, a nearly translucent spider and a common housefly. Then it was time to drive Mia to the ceramics workshop. Returning half an hour before her appointment with Peter, Harper set out coffee mugs and blueberry muffins.

She wasn’t sure why she went to so much trouble for a man who’d betrayed her. Still, he deserved a chance to explain.

She smacked her hand on the counter.
Stop being so darn nice, Harper!
The man had insinuated himself into her life—not without an invitation, true—but he’d endeared himself under false pretenses to her and to Mia. Especially Mia.

Couldn’t he see how fragile her daughter’s heart was? Although Mia seemed sturdy, Harper knew her daughter longed to be part of a family. She’d asked three times why Uncle Jake didn’t call or send a present. They hadn’t heard from him, even though Harper had emailed her brother a chatty message several weeks earlier with a reminder about his niece’s birthday.

Then, all week, Mia had brimmed with happy observations of what Peter said and did at sports camp. He’d become an important part of her emotional landscape.

Harper wished he weren’t moving. And that he hadn’t proposed this book without telling her he’d hired her as the egg donor. And that... Oh, heck, she was too old and too jaded to make wishes that couldn’t come true.

The doorbell chose that inconvenient moment to ring. He
would
have to be on time.

Grumpily, Harper went to answer.

* * *

P
ETER
HAD
RESOLVED
TO
steer the conversation carefully. Instead, words failed him as he stared into the snapping green eyes of the woman who’d dominated his thoughts.

In a folder, he held a printed outline of the book, along with information regarding publishers and the self-publishing process. By starting on neutral ground, he’d intended to ease into the tricky topic that refused to remain a secret.

Instead, he stood on the porch while she glared at him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“We need to talk.” Harper moved stiffly from his path.

Nothing unusual had happened at sports camp, nor was he late today. Could her attitude result from the birth control pills? Concerned for her health, Peter had read up on those, and learned that they might affect her moods.

When he entered, the enchanting scent of baking enveloped him. “That smells wonderful.”

“I made muffins for Mia.” Almost snarling, she added, “There are a few left.” With that, Harper stalked to the kitchen.

Peter followed, concerned but beginning to be irked by her attitude. When he misstepped with Angela, a smile and a quiet discussion had always smoothed things over. He was a reasonable man.

Refreshments were already set out on the table. Po skittered about on the tiled floor until Harper scooped him up, petted him and carried him to the laundry room. Peter could hear her murmuring, “I don’t want to step on you, baby. You’ll be fine in here.”

Any hope that her mood might be mellowing, however, faded when she returned. Although she’d ceased glaring, her jaw was clamped shut.

Peter indicated the food. “This, uh... Thanks.”

Harper washed her hands and joined him. Not eating or drinking. Or saying, “You’re welcome,” either.

“Is this like the last meal of a condemned man?” he asked.

She blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve done something to make you angry,” he said. “What, exactly?”

“Guess.”

He was trying to be polite, while she insisted on making this difficult. “Why don’t you just tell me?”

“I met someone this week,” Harper replied. “A patient named Vanessa Ayres.”

Peter’s hands went cold. “I meant to tell you.”

“When?”

“Today.” He resented being treated like a criminal. “But I was under no obligation to reveal my identity.”

“You nearly got me fired!” Tears glimmered behind the anger. “I still might be! When I prepped Vanessa, I had no way of knowing she was your surrogate or that you were using my eggs. Now I’ve breached patient confidentiality. That’s a serious offense.”

Regret crowded out his annoyance. “Mrs. Ayres isn’t seeing the doctor you work for.” He’d checked on that as a precaution.

“No—just her partner!” Harper cried. “The nurses help each other when the office gets busy.”

He could see now how naive he’d been. Willfully blind, to be more accurate. “How did she react?”

“I didn’t tell her.” Harper pressed her lips so tightly they turned white.

Peter ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous gesture that Angela had cured him of long ago. Or so he’d believed. “I didn’t expect for you to find out like this.”

“You didn’t expect for me to find out at all!”

On the verge of arguing, he halted. “You’re right, I didn’t. Until a couple of days ago, when I had a talk with my doctor. With Cole.” Might as well come clean about that, as well.

She folded her arms. “Are you going to sue me?”

The idea had never occurred to him. “Certainly not.”

“Even if I withdraw?”

A dark knot formed in Peter’s gut. He could have other children, but he wanted
hers.
And to keep her friendship. Impulsively, he reached across the table to touch her hand. “Please don’t give up on me.”

“I should!” But she didn’t jerk away.

“And I’d deserve it.”

Apparently he’d said the right thing, because her forehead smoothed. “What on earth were you thinking, choosing me in the first place?”

He let the truth spill out. “That you’re a wonderful mother and you have an adorable child. And that it would mean a lot that my children came from you.” He explained about recognizing her at sports camp, returning to the website and reaching his conclusion. “I didn’t realize initially that we’d be seeing this much of each other.”

“When you signed the papers to hire me, you should have told me. It would have been the decent thing to do.”

She had a good point. “Look, I tend to be reserved, which means I don’t always communicate well,” Peter admitted. “When there’s a lot at stake, I weigh things carefully.”

“Not carefully enough.” She shook her head. “Okay, that was uncalled for. But it feels like you took advantage of me.”

Had he? Not intentionally, Peter thought. “I believed...well, convinced myself that it didn’t matter, since you’d agreed to donate eggs without meeting the parents. I can see now I was wrong.”

She stared down at the table, clearly fighting her emotions. This had affected her strongly, and that bothered him, a lot.

“Do you want me to write to your doctors taking all the responsibility?” Peter asked. “You really think they might fire you?”

“It’s possible.” She swallowed. “Even a reprimand in my file could hurt my future prospects.”

“Say the word and I’ll write to them, or call them, or both.”

“Okay. It might help.”

She hadn’t said whether she intended to go ahead with providing eggs. Did he dare discuss the subject further? As Peter had said, he tended to be reticent in important matters. Speaking up risked encouraging her to withdraw.

On the other hand, keeping quiet had caused nothing but trouble. “May I tell you what I’m most afraid of?” he asked. “It’s the reason I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Harper swallowed, and then met his gaze. “Go ahead.” The jut of her chin indicated she was reserving judgment.

“These are the children I dreamed of having with Angela,” Peter said. “This was our journey, and then cancer tore us apart. I lost her. I can’t lose them, too. I was afraid that if you were involved with the pregnancy and saw the baby or babies, you wouldn’t be able to let go.”

For a moment, she showed no reaction. Then she surprised him by saying, “Let me tell you my dream.”

He reminded himself to breathe. “Please do.”