The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? (13 page)

“Y
ou’re different, Mom,” Sara Beth said as they lingered that night over dessert, apple tarts with cinnamon ice cream. The restaurant was one of her favorites, a small café that offered comfort food with a twist. For dinner she’d had chicken and dumplings, prepared with a delicate touch and fresh herbs. “Are you sure you don’t have a man in your life?”

“I’m sure.” Grace sipped her coffee, eyeing Sara Beth over the rim. “I retired months ago, but I hadn’t gotten the hang of it yet. Now I have.”

“Shouldn’t that mean you’d be more relaxed? Because you’re not. In fact, you’re edgier. And you’re not being forthcoming about your trip.”

“There’s just so little to tell, sweetheart. I didn’t do much but read, go for walks, eat and sleep.”

“You didn’t take any tours? Didn’t see the Mayan ruins? And where are your photographs? You always took a ton of pictures wherever we went.”

“I was recording your life, Sara Beth. Hence, the many scrapbooks of years gone by. And you haven’t said a word about Dr. Bonner.”

“There’s just so little to tell.” Sara Beth flashed a smile.

“Touché.”

For almost a week Sara Beth had lived with what she’d done, taking advantage of the unexpected opportunity in the vault to look for her mother’s file. And for almost a week she’d lived with the results, not telling anyone that she’d looked—and discovered it was missing. Ted had noticed there was something wrong. She’d denied it.

But she also knew she would never come to terms with it unless she talked to her mother.

Sara Beth’s heart lodged in her throat at the thought of asking, but she had to know. “Why is your file not in the vault?” Sara Beth blurted out, the words almost choking her.

For a long time, Grace said nothing. Then, finally, “It took you a long time to look. You’ve worked there for twelve years, six years full-time.”

Which was no answer. Sara Beth’s anxiety about asking turned to frustration—again. “Because I wanted you to be the one to tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Who my father is.”

“I’ve told you all your life.”

“An anonymous donor.” Sara Beth shoved her dessert away, unfinished. “But there’s no record of your procedure, not even someone using an alias that came close to matching you, either.”

“Think about that for a moment. I worked there for over thirty years. A lot of people had access to patient files.”

“Meaning you removed it so that no one would know?”

“Everyone knew I’d gotten pregnant with help from the institute. But the details weren’t—and aren’t—anyone else’s business.”

“I don’t count?”

Grace sat back. “What would you do with that information, if you had it?”

“I don’t know. I just have a need to know where I came from. I feel like half of me is missing. Or a third,” she said, correcting herself. “I know you, and I know myself. I’d like to know the missing link. Do I have siblings? What about a health history?”
Would he have brought me a Valentine if he’d known about me?

“Many of the donors all those years ago were college students, Sara Beth, who were in it for the money. They were able to walk away without feeling any attachment for a child who might come of that generous donation. Do you think it would matter now, after all this time?”

“It could, perhaps even more so. Maybe he never had other children. Or whatever the reasons might be. I could contact him through an intermediary. If he wants to be left alone, I would respect that.”

Their server approached, a reminder that they were in public. They paid their bill then left the café, heading back to Grace’s house and the bus stop nearby.

“Let me think about it, okay, sweetheart?”

It was the first time her mother had dangled any kind of carrot in front of her. What could she say? It wasn’t the right time to keep pushing. “Thank you.”

Rain began to fall, light but steady, putting an end to their conversation as they each opened an umbrella, creating distance between them. They reached the bus stop.

“You don’t need to wait with me in the rain, Mom. Go on inside.”

“I’m not made of sugar.”

Sara Beth laughed. “No, you’re not. Neither am I, in large part because you made me that way. Thanks for being such a good life coach.”

“I would say you’re welcome, except I haven’t entirely succeeded.”

“I think I turned out okay.”

“Despite my many warnings, you’ve fallen in love with a doctor, and one you work with, at that.”

“I haven’t—”

“Oh, sweetheart. You have. Do you think I don’t know your every expression? That it isn’t always what you say but what you don’t say that speaks the loudest? You haven’t volunteered a word about him all night.”

Sara Beth could feel herself closing up. “Because I know how you feel about him. It. The situation itself.”

“For good reasons. I was a nurse for a long time. I’ve
seen it happen again and again. It’s one of the oldest professional fantasies in the world—nurse falls for doctor. Do you know how seldom it works out?”

“I’m having fun, Mom.”

“People will talk. Do you want that? Your coworkers will be whispering behind your back. It can cause irreparable harm to your ability to supervise if they don’t respect you.”

Sara Beth knew all that, had known it all along without saying the words out loud. “We won’t go public with our relationship unless it becomes something more permanent.”

“You mean, marriage?” Grace looked shocked, even horrified. She clamped a hand on Sara Beth’s arm. “Sweetheart, please don’t get your hopes up about such a thing. Ted Bonner is not only a doctor, he’s from one of the oldest, wealthiest families in Boston. If you don’t think his parents have plans for their only son, you’ve totally deluded yourself about him.”

The bus pulled up, splashing an arc of water onto the sidewalk, making them jump back. Manipulating their umbrellas, they managed a quick, tense hug, then Sara Beth climbed onto the steamy vehicle, the windows too fogged up to see her mother as it pulled away from the curb.

Sara Beth drew a circle on the wet, foggy window, adding two dots for eyes, a short line for a nose, then a down-turned mouth. Her mother was right. Sara Beth
had
gotten her hopes up about Ted, maybe because he was willing to let it be known they were dating, where she’d
been cautious because of lifelong warnings from her mother, which had gotten more intense now that Sara Beth was seeing Ted, making it real, not just hypothetical.

Which made Sara Beth also wonder if her mother had experienced what she so fiercely cautioned about. Had she loved a doctor? Been used and dumped? There had to be a reason why she never dated.

As soon as Sara Beth got off the bus, she dialed Ted’s number. He picked up right away.

“How was your evening?” he asked.

“I had an incredible
meal
.”

He laughed. “See why I don’t make a habit of going out to dinner with my parents?”

She smiled. It was obvious that he liked his parents just fine. “How’s it going with you? Are you finding anything?”

“It’s been interesting. We may have found something. Mostly we think because we’re not there anymore, the renewals on the grants probably didn’t happen. We don’t even know if they replaced us.”

“They ran a lousy business,” Chance shouted in the background, being much less circumspect than Ted. “Now they’re paying for it.”

“Except they want us to pay for it, too,” Ted added. “At least with our reputation.”

Sara Beth dodged a puddle. She picked up speed as the rain started battering her. “What’s next?”

“Is it raining?” He went silent for a few seconds. “It’s pouring. I hadn’t noticed. How close are you to home?”

“I’m running up my walkway right now.” She shoved
her key in the lock and rushed inside as a crack of lightning lit up the sky, followed by low, rumbling thunder. “Safe and sound,” she said, then climbed the stairs. “So, again, what’s next?”

“We’re having lunch tomorrow with Ramona, away from the institute. She’s doing some research on her own, as well as talking to a lawyer. We ended up telling Paul about the accusations. I didn’t want to ask Ramona to keep it from her own fiancé.”

“But you’re still keeping Derek in the dark?”

“For now.”

“I’ll let you get back to work, then. My bed’s going to be lonely tonight.” She smiled at his silence, stuck as he was with Chance within earshot.

“Same here,” he said, although not in a sexy way.

She tugged her raincoat off and hung it up outside her front door, toed off her boots, then went inside. “Remember my tiger-striped nightgown?”

“Down to the last detail.”

“When you go to bed tonight, picture me wearing that.”

“Do you remember the results of that particular experiment?” he asked.

She remembered every erotic detail—the fire in his eyes, the power of his erection, bold and flattering. How he’d looked at her as if she was the only woman in the world. She loved how he could focus like that, and not be distracted.

“I remember,” she said, amazed at how aroused she’d become just from the memories. “If you want to call me after Chance leaves and you’re in bed, we could talk
about it. I’ve never had phone sex, but it might be an adventure. Not as good as the real thing, of course, but—”

“Experiments are only as effective as the results.”

“Then we’ll have to test the theory, won’t we?” She was caught between pulse-pounding arousal and an image of him being frustrated at not being free to talk, which made her smile.

“It should prove to be an interesting discussion. I’ll talk to you later, Sara Beth.”

“For sure.” She ended the call, shook herself into awareness again, then got ready for bed, keeping her phone close by.

When it rang finally, she drew a settling breath before she answered—to a dial tone. It rang again, then she realized it wasn’t her phone but her doorbell. She slid her feet into her teddy-bear slippers and hurried down the stairs.

“Liar,” he said, drenched with rain.

He seemed angry. “Ted—”

“I had to park three blocks away, and I ran all the way here, and you’re not wearing the tiger. You’ve got your flannel fire engines on.”

She smiled innocently. “It’s cold without you.”

He picked her up, carried her up the stairs, her pajamas getting wet where they touched him. He went directly into her bedroom, stood her by her bed and unbuttoned her top only enough to yank it over her head.

“I’m not complaining, Sara Beth. I have fond memories of these pajamas.” He shoved her bottoms off,
kneeling before her, teasing her by trailing his tongue along her skin as he exposed it. Then she helped him get rid of his wet clothes.

“No experiment, after all?” she asked, not at all unhappy about it.

“Did I say that? I think a little experimentation is definitely in order.” He backed her up until she came against the bed, then fell onto it. “I think we should see how long it takes to make you beg.”

She laughed, breathless and excited. He had her begging almost immediately, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of accommodating her, dragging it out until she couldn’t think about anything but him, every aspect of him, so that when he finally plunged inside her, she was swept into a climax instantly and held suspended, so that she had no idea how much time passed, five seconds or five minutes. He started to pull out, and she wrapped her legs around him, knew the moment he gave in and let it happen for himself, too. Then he was draped over her, his weight on his arms enough that she could breathe, but his own breathing was heavy, his body adhered to hers.

Awareness crept in, like the sun coming up, first in pink then full light. He lifted his head and met her gaze.

“No protection,” they said at the same time.

Then, “I got carried away,” also simultaneously, which drew a shaky laugh from her and an even more serious look in his eyes.

“I have never been irresponsible, Sara Beth. I don’t know….” He stopped and shook his head, then rolled with her to his side and gathered her close.

“Neither have I.” She wanted to ask him what he thought that meant, that two such highly responsible people could be so irresponsible about sex, but she didn’t ask, wasn’t sure she wanted to know his answer. She only knew how she felt.

She also didn’t want to trap him with a pregnancy.

He kissed her hair, tucked her closer, into their usual presleep configuration. “Sleep,” he said.

Surprisingly, she did.

T
he Coach House Diner was within walking distance of the Armstrong Fertility Institute. Ted and Chance took a late lunch, hoping to avoid the possibility of running into anyone from the institute. Tall, blond Ramona Tate was already seated at a table in the fifties-style diner with its old-fashioned counter and leatherette booths. They hadn’t even finished their greetings before Chance was pointing to a booth, tucked back in a corner.

“Let’s sit over there. It’s a better spot to see who comes in the door,” he said. “Have you ordered, Ramona?”

“I was waiting for you.”

“Thanks so much for your help,” Ted said as they settled into the new booth.

“I get enormous satisfaction catching bad guys in the act.”

“Hi, Jenny,” Chance said to the waitress who approached with three glasses of ice water. “How are you this beautiful day?”

Because Chance had turned on the famous Demetrios charm, Ted took a closer look at the waitress, who was blond, like Ramona, but curvier.

“Have you looked outside, Dr. Demetrios?” Jenny asked.

“I like the rain. Don’t you?”

“I guess that depends on whether I’m already at work or coming to work.”

“Makes sense.” He ignored the menu she’d set in front of him.

“Your usual?” she asked.

Ted and Ramona exchanged glances. It was as if they didn’t exist.

“That’d be great,” Chance said, then seemed to wake up to the fact he wasn’t alone. “Have you decided?” he asked.

“We haven’t had a chance to look at the menu yet.” Ted bit back a smile and opened his menu. Ramona did the same, except she was grinning.

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.” Jenny left, without even asking for their drink orders.

“Come here often?” Ted asked Chance, studying the menu.

“Fairly. Why?” The belligerence in his voice made Ted look up.

“What do you recommend?” Ted asked.

Chance settled back, then toyed with his water glass. “I usually get the club sandwich and a cup of vegetable soup.”

“Sounds good to me.” Ted watched Jenny talk to some customers at the counter while occasionally glancing Chance’s way—or maybe she was waiting for Ramona to set aside her menu, too, signaling she’d made her choice.

When their orders were taken and drinks served, they got down to business.

“Paul and I talked about your situation,” Ramona said, twirling her engagement ring. “We agree that Breyer is probably being spiteful. If they move ahead with their threat, you’d have legal recourse, but for now, they haven’t stated their intentions. So, we need to fight back before it gets to that point. Did you find anything new since we talked last night?”

“We’re pretty sure the ‘unethical funding’ they’re referring to is a grant that Breyer accepted from a company called McAdams Fertility Corp. They make a vitamin concoction they bill as a cure. Since we began our own research with a similar base, McAdams had a vested interest in our results.”

“Meaning they expected our research to be tilted in their favor,” Chance added. “But we didn’t go after their money and, in fact, would have rejected the idea of writing a grant for it, had we known. We were forced to accept it, after the fact. That was ultimately what spurred us to move on.”

“McAdams probably demanded their money back,”
Ted said. “And Breyer won’t refund it, deciding to put the blame on us. We don’t know that for sure, but it’s the only scenario that makes sense.”

“We could also nip this in the bud right now,” Chance said with a sideways glance at Ted.

Ted had no doubt what Chance meant. “We’re not going down that path. That would make us no better than them.”

“Why? What?” Ramona asked.

Chance raised his water glass toward Ted. “We know something they don’t think we know.”

“And we’re not using that knowledge,” Ted said. “It doesn’t affect patient care, but they
could
lose patients. They may not be cutting-edge in research anymore, but they still do good work with infertility issues.”

“Well, if you won’t stoop to their level…” Ramona smiled. “Actually, I admire that. It also makes me totally believe you when you say you’re innocent. So, let’s come up with a plan.”

They ate lunch and talked, lingering until Chance was paged to return. He went up to the waitress, Jenny, handed her some money, said something to make her blush, then left.

“Smitten,” Ramona said.

“Looks like it.”

Ted and Ramona walked back to the institute later, then stood in the hall to finish their conversation.

“So, Ted, were you always this ethical?”

“It’s always been important to me,” he said, but his thoughts drifted to Sara Beth.

“Do you find it hard to live up to the standards?”

“What? No—Yes.” He searched for the right thing to say when his head was filled with the fact he twice hadn’t worn a condom with Sara Beth, breaking ethical standards, as Ramona called them. So much for being prepared.

Finally he said, “Doing the right thing matters to me. Always has, always will.”

“I hope you’re not a dying breed.” Ramona opened the door to the employee lounge saying, “I’m going to grab some coffee to take to my office.”

Sara Beth almost tumbled out.

Ted caught her before she fell right into Ramona.

“I’m so sorry!” Sara Beth said, straightening. “I’m glad I wasn’t carrying a cup of hot coffee.”

“Me, too.” Ramona smiled. “How are you, Sara Beth?”

Her gaze flickered to Ted briefly then back to Ramona. “I’m very well, thanks. Have you and my favorite quasibrother set a date yet?”

Ramona laughed. “I forget that you and Paul know each other so well. No, not yet. Speaking of siblings, I may have found my half sister.”

“Oh, how wonderful! Have you met her?”

“Not yet. We’re trying to be sure of the connection. She’s apparently an heiress living in New York City. Her name is Victoria Welsh.”

“It’s good that you’re being careful of her feelings. I’ve heard a lot of stories about children who find out who their donor mother or father is, and have a hard time dealing with it.”

“Exactly. We are using caution and care.” She touched Ted’s arm. “Maybe you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

“I’m clueless.”

“Sara Beth can fill you in. I don’t mind sharing with certain people.”

She said goodbye, then Ted and Sara Beth walked to the lab together.

“So, what’s her story?” he asked.

“Her mother donated eggs here many years ago, and now she needs a bone-marrow transplant. Ramona isn’t a match, so she’s been trying to track down possible biological children. Looks like it may happen, after all. It’s going to be complicated, no matter how careful they are with this Victoria.”

She went quiet, not saying another word until they were inside the lab. They’d started writing the manual that morning, but he’d taken every opportunity to stall. She’d teased him about it.

But the elephant in the room was the fact they’d now slept together twice without protection, and neither of them wanted to talk about it. He guessed he should open the discussion….

“I’m a product of artificial insemination,” she said out of the blue.

He just stared at her, at her hands tightly clenched, at how her cheekbones seemed sharp and her face pale.

“I don’t know who my father is.”

It was the sort of thing Ted wasn’t good at—dealing with people’s emotional issues, even someone he liked
as much as Sara Beth, but he knew he had to say something. “Do you want to know?”

She gave him a sharp look. “Wouldn’t you?”

Yes, he probably would. “Your mother won’t tell you?”

“The donor was anonymous. My mother had been working here a few years when she decided to do it.”

Ted guided Sara Beth to a chair, then sat beside her. “We hear all the time about children who track down donors,” he said. “Ramona’s a good example. Maybe you could talk to Paul and Lisa about letting you have the information, or letting one of them try to track down the donor, just like Ramona did.”

“There’s no file. It’s gone.”

“How do you know?”

“I hunted for it.” She hadn’t been looking him in the eye. Now she did. “While you were taking up boxes last week.”

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling about that, except that it didn’t sit well. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re…you. I couldn’t involve you.” Her smile was small and tight. “And now you know I’m not as ethical as you.”

“Under the same circumstances, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have done the same thing.” He wondered why he wasn’t upset by her revelation. In fact, he was more upset that she’d kept it from him until now. No wonder she’d been different last weekend at the shore, less talkative, more distracted. He wished she’d confided in him earlier. That she’d trusted him enough.

“The end justifies the means?” she asked. “That’s
generous, but I guess it doesn’t matter. My mother said she couldn’t leave her own information here for others to see. I understand that. Maybe I’ll find it in her personal belongings years from now. Maybe she destroyed it.”

Her eyes welled. Ted felt more helpless than he ever had. He rubbed her back. “I can’t imagine what that would be like—not knowing.”

She pressed the corners of her eyes. “It’s gotten harder lately, and I don’t even know why. On Valentine’s Day—” She stopped, took a shaky breath.

“What happened?” Other than coming to his rescue that day…

“I was in a grocery store, and there was a dad buying a stuffed bear and some candy for his little girl. It about killed me, you know? I never had that, never was daddy’s little girl. Sometimes I watch dads playing with kids in the park and my heart hurts. Not just aches, but hurts.” She pushed her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry for dumping this on you. I was excited for Ramona to find that connection—not only to help her mother, but because it also gives her a sister. It just hit me hard. I’ll be fine. Really.”

She got up. “I’ll be back.”

Ted didn’t move for a minute, then he opened a desk drawer and took out an employee roster. It hadn’t been updated since Sara Beth’s mother had retired. He found Grace O’Connell’s address, wrote it down, stuffed it in his pocket.

After all that Sara Beth had done for him, it was time he returned the favor.

And what if she
was
pregnant? He needed to step up to the plate
now
.

He left her a note, then for the first time in his life, played hooky from work.

He should have called first—etiquette demanded it—but he was afraid she wouldn’t agree to see him. So, he surprised Grace O’Connell, ambushed her by showing up on her doorstep.

He hesitated when he saw her, because either she suffered from allergies or she’d been crying. Should he ask what was wrong? She probably wouldn’t answer. Why would she, without knowing him? He was grateful, at least, that they’d met in the lobby at the institute, so she recognized him.

“This isn’t a good time,” she said.

“I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t extremely important, Ms. O’Connell. Please. Just a few minutes of your time.”

“All right,” she said with obvious reluctance.

Ted stepped inside, noticing that she and her daughter had similar styles in furnishings and art.

“Thank you for seeing me.”

“You didn’t give me a lot of choice, did you? Have a seat.”

He saw Sara Beth in her, different hair and eye color, but similarities in their facial structure and body type.

She sat in a chair across from him. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been seeing your daughter.”

“She told me.”

Okay. That made it easier. He didn’t have to break that particular ice. “Sara Beth talked with me today about how she was conceived.”

Her mouth hardened. “I see.”

“It weighs on her a lot that she doesn’t know who fathered her.”

“You’re not telling me something I haven’t known for most of her life.” Her fingers curved into the chair arms. “Your point is?”

“She’s in a great deal of pain because of it. I don’t like to see her in pain.”

“Do you think I do? You think it gives me pleasure to see her struggle with it?” Her voice kept rising as she defended herself. “What kind of mother do you think I am?”

“A loving one, according to Sara Beth. Except with regard to this particular issue, I gather.”

She calmed a little. “My hands are tied by anonymity. You know how that works, right,
Dr
. Bonner?”

“Please call me Ted. Of course I do. Which is why I’m offering to track down the father and see if he’s interested in meeting her—without involving her in the search, or getting her hopes up.”

“My daughter suggested that very thing last night. So, you’re the intermediary she chose?”

“We didn’t discuss it. And she has no idea I’ve come to see you. It’s just something I’d like to do for her.”

“Why?”

“Why not? She means a lot to me.”
She might be the mother of my child
.

She smiled tightly. “And you think this would make her happy?”

Ted didn’t know what to make of the woman whom Sara Beth sang the praises of. He was finding her aloof and not very maternal. Why wouldn’t she want Sara Beth to be happy?

“I know she’s unhappy not knowing,” Ted said.

“There’s no guarantee that would change if she got the information she thinks she wants.”

“True. But the curiosity she’s lived with would be satisfied. She could move forward, one way or the other. She’s long been an adult. It’s time to stop treating her like a child.”

It was the wrong thing to say. He saw that right away. Her expression closed up tight.

“She
is
a child, Dr. Bonner.
My
child. That will never change. And until you have a child of your own, you won’t understand how strong that bond is, especially the need to protect your child from hurt. You think it will help her to find who fathered her? I don’t.”

“She’s your daughter, Ms. O’Connell, and always will be. But she’s no longer your child.”

Grace stood. “It’s time for you to go.”

He’d already risen automatically because she had. Now he went to the door, guilt settling on his shoulders. He’d meant to help Sara Beth. Instead, he may have hurt her cause even more. “Thank you for your time.”