The Baby Jackpot (17 page)

Chapter Seventeen

When she’d missed Una’s first ultrasound, Stacy had
never imagined they’d be back for a repeat so soon. She only wished the
circumstances were better.

Zora was setting up the ultrasound equipment when Harper
ushered Stacy into the examining room. On the table, Una lay biting her lip,
while James held her hand. Dr. Franco, who’d thrown a white coat over her jeans
and T-shirt, observed from beside the counter.

Stacy paused near the entrance. “What happened?”

“You’re here!” Una reached toward her, and James tactfully
stepped aside. But why was this woman reaching for Stacy instead of her
husband?

“Harper called.” Stacy drew closer, and felt Una’s hand close
over hers.

“I can’t believe I was so careless!” Una flinched as Zora
applied gel to her bare stomach, which was visibly enlarged already, at nine
weeks. “I was in the backyard when the phone rang inside. I slipped on the back
steps and my tummy hit the concrete.”

Stacy could see a purpling bruise near Una’s exposed hip. “Did
you suffer any internal bleeding?”

“No,” Una said. “But...Stacy, promise me something.” Her grip
tightened.

Although tempted to agree regardless of what the favor might
be, Stacy merely asked, “What can I do?”

“Promise that if I lose the twins, you’ll let me adopt the
triplets,” she begged. “You’re giving them up anyway, right?”

It was a reasonable request. Her friend’s previous demand would
have left the Barkers raising five babies and a toddler, which wasn’t fair to
the children. But if the twins were gone...

“You aren’t going to miscarry,” Stacy said. “If the mother
isn’t seriously injured in a fall, it’s rare for it to harm the baby.”

“And we’re about to find out,” Dr. Franco interjected.
“Look.”

On screen, moving shadows formed into two distinct shapes. The
hearts were beating and the little creatures wiggling.

“Oh, thank God!” Una breathed. “I can see a tiny leg. Are those
toes?”

“I doubt you can make them out yet, but they are formed,” Dr.
Franco told her.

Zora kept her head down, concentrating on her work. Even at an
angle, it was obvious the technician had red-rimmed eyes. She must have partied
too hard last night. Stacy pictured Andrew tossing back beers at a party, one
arm encircling Zora’s waist, teeth gleaming as he laughed.

Something was missing from her mental movie. It took a moment
for her to figure out what.

No pain.

Stacy didn’t care that he’d been with Zora and not her.
Whatever grip Andrew had retained on her emotions had vanished, like an old
injury that had unexpectedly healed.

“You’re right—they’re fine.” Una beamed at the doctor. “Can we
tell the sex yet?”

“It’s a bit early,” Zora replied. “Are you in a hurry?”

Una and James shook their heads at almost the same instant.
“We’re just glad they’re okay,” he said, reclaiming his wife’s hand.

No one commented on the fact that Stacy hadn’t agreed to let
them adopt the triplets. As things had turned out, it didn’t matter. But why
hadn’t she said yes?

With a congratulatory farewell, Stacy retreated. Harper and the
obstetrician remained, but after negotiating her cart through the cramped space,
Zora exited behind her. Politely, Stacy held the door.

At close range, Zora didn’t look hungover. She’d been
crying.

“Are you okay?” For nearly three years, Stacy had harbored
resentment toward this woman. Today, she felt only concern.

Zora pushed the cart jerkily along the hall. “I could tell how
much you love the triplets.”

The comment startled Stacy, but she had no time to reflect on
it. “Is this about babies?”

“In a sense.” She took a deep breath. “You were right. Andrew
lied to me. About you not wanting kids and about a lot of things. He isn’t the
man I thought he was.”

“You knew he was cheating on me when you took up with him,”
Stacy pointed out.

“I told myself he’d been mine all along.” Zora opened the door
to a storage room. “In high school, when he dumped me, I couldn’t believe it was
over. So when I ran into him again and he said I’d always been his true love, I
fell for it.”

He said I was the love of his life.
Stacy braced instinctively for the familiar twist of pain, but it was gone. She
felt only regret for wasted years and broken trust. “Now what will you do?”

“I left him.” Zora angled the sonogram equipment into a space.
“After finding out he lied, I started snooping through his email and discovered
he’s been fooling around when he travels. He tried to deny it, but after a while
he shrugged and said that’s the way guys are. That I shouldn’t make a big deal
of it.”

A memory surfaced. Stacy had caught a whiff of unfamiliar
perfume on Andrew’s clothes when he’d returned from a business trip. Afraid of
overreacting, she’d called her mother, who’d advised her to trust him. Nothing
drove a man away faster than suspicion and nagging, Ellen had said. Stacy had
followed her advice, but he’d dropped her, anyway. Most likely he’d been
cheating all along.

“You’re lucky to have a straight shooter like Dr. Rattigan,”
Zora added.

“I don’t have—” Stacy broke off when she saw people leaving the
examining room. Just as well. Because she didn’t care to finish that
sentence.

She no longer knew whether she had him or not. Or what any of
this meant, except that some of her biggest assumptions had been wrong.

* * *

“I
APPRECIATE
THE
HELP
,” Adrienne
Cavill said on Sunday as Cole, dressed in his oldest jeans and a worn shirt,
turned a shovelful of soil in a corner of her garden. “I got so inspired working
at Harper’s house, I went overboard.”

Feeling confined in his rooms, and tired of searching for
rentals on the internet, Cole had called the obstetrician. He’d only meant to
accept her offer of showing him her garden, but when he learned she was embarked
on a major vegetable-planting project, he’d volunteered to help.

The two-story Craftsman-style house in the northern part of
Safe Harbor had a large rear yard. There was space for a garden, lawn, covered
patio and several pathways with hard surfaces for Reggie’s tricycle. The little
boy alternately zoomed around and raced across the lawn to climb on the play
equipment.

“Does he ever run out of energy?” Cole asked.

A grin creased Adrienne’s dirt-smeared face. “He operates at
full speed until he collapses.” She resumed spreading compost. “He and Mia
worked hard yesterday.”

“The kids enjoy gardening?” Cole stretched his back.

Adrienne pointed to another area. “We planted seeds over there.
Of course, I spent almost as much time cleaning them up afterward.”

“You hosed them down?” That must have been a cute scene.

“I rinsed off the worst of it,” she said. “Then we went inside.
You wouldn’t believe the dirt rings I scrubbed out of the tub.”

“I like dirt.” Cole studied the rich loam. He was enjoying this
more than he’d expected. “So this section is for tomatoes?” A half-dozen nursery
plants on the patio table awaited planting.

“My favorite varieties. Mostly heirlooms.” Adrienne swiped at
her cheek with a sleeve, banishing a gnat and leaving a dark streak. “When I was
growing up, we used to make spaghetti sauce from scratch. I don’t have time
anymore, so I’ve collected plenty of quickie pasta recipes. Just chop the
tomatoes and stick them in the microwave.”

“I’d like a garden someday.” Cole had never imagined such a
thing until recently. “Along with a couple of kids to hose off. How about
you?”

“Reggie’s it for me,” Adrienne said. “Medical reasons.” Without
elaborating, she went to fetch more compost.

On the walkway, the little boy whizzed by. “I’m flying!” He
held up his hands for an instant before grabbing the handlebars, narrowly
averting a spill.

Yearning squeezed Cole so hard he could barely hang on to the
shovel. Yearning for a garden like this. For children. Above all, for the right
woman to share them with.

He believed he’d found her, but Stacy had sent him away. Still,
his need for a home and family kept growing stronger.

Cole didn’t see how he could move on when he loved her so much.
But maybe he had to.

* * *

A
NDREW
WAS
A
CHEATER
and a liar.
He hadn’t simply been overcome by love for another woman. Instead, he’d cheated
on Zora, too.

Sitting on the carpet in her living room, Stacy spent Sunday
afternoon doing something utterly childish. She’d brought some of her favorite
toys out from her storage unit, planning to give them to Una. Now she set up a
marble run, a series of curved plastic pieces with towers and spirals. Then she
released her beloved old glass marbles one by one at the top, watching in weird
fascination as they swooped around and over and down, landing with a clink in a
receptacle.

A plastic piece shifted slightly and one of the marbles got
stuck.
Chunk!
A second marble ran into the blockage.
Chunk!
Soon there were half a dozen marbles
lodged in a row, waiting for Stacy to free them.

The blockage resembled her life these past few years. She’d
been stuck behind the roadblock of her marriage, unable to move past the
question of how such a deep and abiding love could vanish. Was it her schedule
combined with Andrew’s travel? Was there some flaw in her?

All the while, Stacy could see, she’d been jiggling the wrong
part of the marble run. The problem hadn’t been her, or their schedules. It had
been Andrew. Beautiful, self-assured, narcissistic Andrew.

How could she have been so blind? The fact that he’d fooled
Zora as well did nothing to assuage the embarrassment at her own
gullibility.

Reaching down, Stacy straightened the piece, and the marbles
resumed their roller-coaster journey through the plastic channels. But she
wasn’t fixed. Not yet.

Leaning against the foot of the couch, Stacy mentally retraced
her actions and reactions nearly three years ago, when Andrew had dumped
her.

Naturally, she’d turned to her friends. Harper, having just
lost her husband, had sympathized, but couldn’t provide much insight. Vicki, who
periodically went off her medications, had been careening through the
hyperactive phase of her bipolar disorder and was in no condition to advise
anyone. Although Adrienne had moved in with her sister to help out, Stacy hadn’t
known her very well. Besides, Adrienne had never been married.

So she’d called her mother. Ellen had come through with loving
support, and so had Dad, in his low-key way. Devastated and clinging to their
love, Stacy had never asked the questions that troubled her now.

Why did you tell me not to trust my
instincts about Andrew’s cheating? Did you truly believe that burying my
head in the sand would save my marriage?

Scooping up the marbles, she dropped them again into the top
tray. Unobstructed, they sped downward, scooting along bridges and accelerating
as the angle grew steeper. But despite having a clearer view of marriage, Stacy
still felt blocked.

Why couldn’t I see Andrew for who he
really was? Was I instinctively playing peacemaker, the way I’d always done
with my parents? Was this partly my fault, after all?

Stacy was suffering, not over Andrew but over her father’s
rejection. She’d expected him to take her side in whatever choice she made about
the triplets. As someone had said, love shouldn’t be conditional.

Cole. Cole had said that.

He’d get a kick out of this marble run, she thought, wishing he
was here. But she wasn’t ready to talk to him. Not until she figured out how
she’d gotten so mixed up in the first place.

Sunday afternoon was a good time to solicit her mother’s input.
Stacy just hoped her father wouldn’t hit the roof again.

She called her mom’s cell phone. “It’s me,” she said when Ellen
answered.

“Good timing. Your dad’s out playing golf.”

Her mother had instantly assumed they should keep the
conversation secret from her father. Grateful as Stacy was to have her on her
side, the reaction made her uneasy. “I was hoping he’d changed his mind.”

“Are you all right?” her mom responded. “I’ve been
worried.”

“Andrew’s wife is leaving him,” Stacy burst out with the news.
“He cheated on her, too.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Because he did it once?”

“Because that’s the kind of man he was,” Ellen said simply.

“Mom, if you knew he was like that, why didn’t you say
anything?” Stacy demanded. “When I asked you about the perfume on his clothes,
you advised me not to hassle him.”

“Men are like that.” Ellen sounded resigned. “If you pick a
fight, you drive them away.”

Surely she didn’t mean... “You aren’t talking about Dad!”

The silence lengthened. Over the phone, Stacy heard a sigh of
confirmation.

Around her, the earth seemed to be shifting and the landscape
transforming. Suddenly, everything looked different. “That’s why you used to act
moody sometimes?”

“I’m sorry I made excuses,” her mother answered. “I was trying
to protect you. It was easier to take the blame myself.”

“And let me serve as go-between to patch things up.” No wonder
Stacy had become the peacemaker in the family. Without realizing what was wrong,
she’d had a child’s sense of being responsible for grownups’ behavior.

“You fell into that role,” Ellen admitted.

“And Dad let me fix his mistakes.” Grimly, she amended that.
“Not mistakes. He didn’t stumble and fall into bed with other women.”

“Don’t be crude, Stacy.”

“You’re criticizing
me?
”

“No.” Her mom seemed to struggle for words. “Your dad does love
us, you know.”