SWEET ANTICIPATION (2 page)

“Here, drink this.” Rita returned with a glass of cold milk, which she handed to Lauren.

“Yuck,” Lauren grimaced after taking a swallow before opening her eyes. “You know I can’t stand milk. Isn’t the water fountain working?”

“Milk is good for you and your baby. You need the extra calcium.”

“Hah! I take a pill the size of a grape every day that should supply enough calcium for me and quintuplets.”

“Don’t argue with me,” Rita reprimanded her. “I’ve had five kids. Every time I was pregnant I drank lots of milk and all my babies turned out strong and healthy.” She watched as Lauren grumpily sipped the milk. “Now tell me what happened to you at lunch that got you so upset.”

Setting the half-full glass on Rita’s desk, Lauren summarized her earlier unexpected meeting, trying not to let the retelling bother her as much as the original event had. She finished up with “Of course, I didn’t take him seriously, but it bothers me that he knew my name and where I would be having lunch today. I can’t imagine how he found out.”

“Uh oh!” Rita grimaced. “I’m afraid I’m responsible for telling him where you would be eating. But he already knew your name when he came in here and I thought he was a client, so I didn’t see any harm when he told me he had something important he needed to discuss with you as soon as possible. I’m really sorry.”

“You had no way of knowing that he was a raving maniac.”

“He certainly didn’t look like one,” Rita reflected. “Actually, it’s too bad that he turned out be a creep. He was the best-looking man ever to cross the threshold of this shop.”

“We have a lot of nice-looking men who buy flowers here regularly,” Lauren defended her customers.

“Sure, but most of them are husbands with guilty consciences or lovebirds celebrating anniversaries. Don’t single, unattached men ever buy flowers anymore?” Rita asked with a chuckle.

But Lauren was not in a humorous mood. She felt as if all the energy and ambition had been drained from her body. “I think I’ll go lie down for a while. Would you mind calling my doctor and setting up a conference with him as soon as possible? I won’t feel comfortable until I hear it from him that this guy’s claims are crazy.”

“Sure thing. Try not to worry about it. There are thousands of crackpots walking around this city and you just happened to meet one of them today,” Rita tried to reassure her, but neither woman felt much relief from her words. This man knew too much about Lauren and her situation for their meeting to have been mere coincidence.

Lauren’s thoughts were running along the same lines as she crossed the small courtyard that separated her business from her house. So preoccupied that she didn’t even notice the azalea bushes that were ready to burst into full bloom or the fresh, pale-green spring leaves on the trees, she walked along the brick sidewalk and up the porch steps to the back door. It was only March, but already the air was uncomfortably warm, promising a long, hot summer, so typical here in Houston. As Lauren leaned against the doorjamb, trying to catch her breath, she couldn’t help but wonder, when so little exercise left her winded and perspiring, how uncomfortable she would be in June when the baby was due.

Letting the screen door ease shut behind her, she headed immediately for the refrigerator. Rita could drink all the milk she wanted, but nothing calmed Lauren’s nerves or cooled her down like a glass of iced tea. Sipping the refreshing liquid, she yawned and kicked off her shoes as she walked down the hallway. It was completely unlike her to feel so lazy every afternoon. Her obstetrician, Dr. Reese, had told her to listen to her body, but her body didn’t understand that the work didn’t get done while she was napping. And now, of all times, she couldn’t afford to lose any paying customers.

The familiarity of her sunny yellow bedroom wrapped her in security. After closing the shades and pulling back the quilted floral-patterned spread, Lauren took off her dress and still clothed in her slip, lay down on the cool sheets. As she relaxed in the semidarkness, her logical mind took over from her emotional one. The odds that Dr. Jordan Daniels had her confused with someone else were definitely in her favor. Dr. Reese had assured her that the donors would be struggling young interns who needed the extra money and who would remain totally anonymous. Not even they would know if and when their sperm was used.

Dr. Daniels had not appeared to meet any of these descriptions. Probably in his early to mid-thirties, surely he was too old to be an intern, and the quality of his clothing had made the subtle statement that he had more than enough money to meet his needs. For all she knew, he might not even be a doctor. As Rita had said, he could have been just a crackpot, who for some bizarre reason had singled her out of all the pregnant women in this city to hassle.

Now that she considered the situation, it really wouldn’t be too difficult to find out basic information about her if a person was devious enough. Possibly he had seen her leaving Dr. Reese’s clinic, obviously pregnant. It wouldn’t take a detective to notice that she was never accompanied by an excitedly expectant husband. A few carefully worded questions to Dr. Reese’s receptionist would have provided Daniels with her name and occupation. Well, she would certainly speak to Dr. Reese about that when she had her conference with him. She was certain he would give her all the reassurance she needed that the only thing she should worry about was whether to buy pink or blue bootees.

Little Johnny or Joanna chose that moment to try a double somersault under her rib cage. Lauren lovingly rested her hand on her midriff, relishing the vigorous movement within her. Her child would be strong and healthy, with or without those dreadful glasses of milk. Most important, this baby was hers and Johnny’s and no one, not even Dr. Jordan Daniels, would ever be able to take it away from her.

D
R.
R
EESE SHIFTED
uncomfortably in his chair. He seemed to be having unusual difficulty meeting her steady gaze as Lauren once again relived yesterday’s luncheon meeting. As she tried to make light of her fears, she was silently pleading for him to set her mind at rest once and for all. All he had to do was open his mouth and tell her that it was impossible for Dr. Daniels to have fathered her child or to have seen her records. Instead, the elderly man remained silent as he studied his pen with the intensity of a surgeon about to operate.

Her story finished, Lauren waited anxiously, her blood running colder with each second of silence that passed. At last Dr. Reese cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to lift from his pen and focus on his patient.

“Actually, Lauren, there was a little mix-up in the lab on the day you were inseminated. It seems that the label had fallen off the sealed vial that contained the sperm of your scheduled donor. The nurse who was to get the intended vial and bring it to me found the label lying loose on the shelf, and naturally thinking that it belonged to the first unmarked vial she found, she didn’t take the time to search each one to see if there were any other unlabeled vials.”

As Dr. Reese leaned back, his chair groaned beneath him. He was obviously trying to choose his words carefully because of the delicacy and possible volatility of the subject. “Since labels rarely fall off and even more rarely are there vials in storage that have no labels at all, it never occurred to the nurse that the two might not go together.”

“Does that mean there were at least
two
unmarked vials?” she asked hopefully.

“Yes, there was one other—”

“Then there is a good chance that he might not be the father after all?” Even though it was stated as a question, it was evident by the tone of her voice that she was greatly encouraged.

“Yes, but—”

“Then I have nothing to worry about. Dr. Daniels jumped to the wrong conclusion and he doesn’t have a chance of making any claim on my child.” Lauren breathed a relieved sigh and leaned against the back of her chair, relaxing for the first time since she had entered this office.

“I wish it were that simple,” Dr. Reese continued. “From the nurse’s description of the location, Jordan is certain that the sample belonged to him.”

“But what about the other vial? Couldn’t it be checked or something? Surely there’s some way to identify its donor.”

“There is, but unfortunately it was destroyed several months ago when someone noticed during a routine expiration check that there was no label on it.”

“Then there is still a chance that Dr. Daniels was wrong about the location. Or the nurse could have forgotten. It would be easy enough to make a mistake about something that happened six months ago.”

“It’s possible,” Dr. Reese admitted, but the expression in his sympathetic eyes told her that he didn’t believe it.

“But not probable,” Lauren supplied, her voice painfully flat.

Dr. Reese didn’t answer, but his helpless shrug told her more than words. It was obvious that he had no doubts that Jordan Daniels was the father of her child.

“What kind of a doctor is he? If he takes care of his patients as carelessly as his experiments, I’ll bet the premiums for his malpractice insurance are astronomical.” Again Lauren was sitting on the edge of her chair, venting her anger toward the person she felt was truly responsible for this situation … Dr. Daniels.

“Let me tell you a little bit about Jordan. You’ve gotten the wrong impression of him.” Dr. Reese was quick to defend his colleague. “From what I’ve heard, you two didn’t hit it off well at all, but he’s really a nice guy, very popular here at the medical center and well respected in his field. But even though he is a very good doctor, he rarely takes care of patients anymore. For the last few years he has been concentrating more on research than a medical practice. The administration here believes in his abilities and dedication, as well as the importance of his field of interest, so much that they have kept him on the staff anyway. He draws a healthy salary, but research is expensive and he had to get a federal grant to fund his experimentation with fertility problems.”

“Why would he store his own sperm?”

“I’m not sure exactly what project he is working on right now. He didn’t tell me why he had his own specimen in storage, and I wouldn’t presume to ask. But I’m sure that he must have had a very good reason. He did explain why he was using our storage facilities, though, instead of the ones in his lab. Usually he keeps all his experiments in his own storage unit, but something had gone wrong with the thermostat and he was afraid there would be a fluctuation in temperature that would ruin his experiment.

“As usual, he had been working late into the night, so when he moved his specimen to the lab’s main unit, there was no one else in the department. Since he planned on getting his storage unit fixed first thing the next day and transferring his experiments back, he didn’t even mention the specimen to anyone until he found that his unit couldn’t be fixed. Without even thinking about there being no label on the vial, he left it in our unit until he could get enough money to replace his.”

“But it’s been six months,” Lauren protested, unable to accept defeat without checking out all the possible flaws. “Why did it take him so long to find out his specimen was missing?”

“As I said, I’m not familiar with his experiments, but he mentioned something about planning further testing after it had been in cold storage for a period of six months. Apparently when he went to retrieve his vial, he discovered it was no longer there and raised quite a ruckus.”

“Surely the nurse would have realized her mistake sooner than this. It sounds to me like a case of total negligence.”

Dr. Reese removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then forced his gaze to meet Lauren’s. He had worked at this medical center, which was a combination of research facilities, private practices and a hospital in one large unit, for many years. He was so much older than most of his associates that he had begun to feel a sort of parental pride toward them. He noted their many achievements and their dedication and knew that when he finally retired, he would be leaving this facility in capable hands.

Of course, this was not the first time someone on the staff had made an error in judgment and he was certain it wouldn’t be the last. Whenever the human element was involved, there was always a margin for error. Knowing that didn’t make it any less upsetting to admit to a patient that someone had made a mistake. But in this instance, he felt that he had no other choice.

“I realize that there’s absolutely no acceptable excuse for what happened, but it was just one of those odd occurrences that sometimes slip through even the most perfect system. The nurse was a fairly new employee in the lab and not experienced enough to know how to handle unusual procedures. Of course, she should have double-checked with someone else in the department before she reattached the label and brought me that vial. She should have examined each and every vial in the freezer to make certain there were no other discrepancies, but as I said before, she had no idea that Jordan’s experiments were in there, too. Still, she made a serious error and I can assure you that disciplinary actions have been taken against her and we feel she has learned her lesson.”