The Surgeon's Surprise Twins (18 page)

“I'm the father.”

“Say it a little louder,” Bailey told him. “Someone might hear. But we can't have that, can we?”

Why not?
Owen caught his breath. He felt as if a thousand longings were colliding in his brain. He needed a chance to sort them out.

Bailey removed her arm from his grasp. “If this is guilt speaking, don't worry about me. Owen, I never expected anything from you. I know I'm not your kind of woman.”

That was news to him. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

“I heard about the women you dated in Boston—they were as different from me as you can get,” Bailey said. “And I accept that you're not the kind of guy who sticks around. Well, maybe with someone who thinks like you and flies up there in the stratosphere with you. Anyway, I don't need your pity.”

“Pity is the furthest thing from my mind.” He didn't have a name for this welter of feelings: desire and tenderness mixed with an almost overwhelming urge to stand guard over her. If only she'd slow down and give him a
minute. Usually, Owen's brain worked faster than everyone else's, but he was in unfamiliar territory here.

“Get on with your life and I'll handle mine.” Did Bailey realize her quivering chin gave her away? “This is my problem and I'm dealing with it.” With that, she swung around and headed into the parking structure.

“We aren't finished,” Owen said.

She merely waggled one hand in the air. He considered going after her, but then his phone rang. Much as Owen would have liked to ignore it, he couldn't risk leaving one of his surgical patients in a crisis. “Yes?”

It was Alec Denny. As Owen listened to his friend's unexpected announcement, he watched Bailey cross paths with another pregnant woman who was holding hands with a man. The couple moved on, leaving Bailey's solitary figure to proceed alone.

It gave him an idea. Or at least the beginning of one.

On the drive home, Bailey replayed the conversation with multiple variations. In some versions, she railed at Owen for breaking her heart, which she was very glad she hadn't done. In others, she left out the stuff about the women in Boston because that made her sound as if she were jealous. Sometimes she emphasized that these were
his
babies and watched him gaze at her with melting adoration, which he obviously hadn't done. In her opinion, Owen Tartikoff wasn't capable of melting adoration.

None of the adaptations came out to her satisfaction, because she'd have liked to see him abjectly remorseful and hopelessly in love with her, which was impossible. She couldn't picture him ever, under any circumstances, presenting her to the high-and-mighty physicians of Safe Harbor as the future Mrs. Tartikoff. Let alone revealing to anyone, even his closest friends, that he was the father of her children.

Bailey had spent much of her fantasy life believing in fairy tales. Then she'd had to go and fall for the ogre. Typical.

At the cottage, she found a cheerful Renée taking a lasagna out of the oven. During the past month, her hostess had rediscovered a love of cooking, now that she had someone to appreciate the results. “I'm sure I'll get tired
of it eventually,” Renée had warned, “but let's both enjoy it while it lasts.”

Determinedly, Bailey pushed Owen from her thoughts and settled down to the meal. While she did share a lot of her feelings with Renée, she hadn't talked much about Dr. T. Too sensitive a subject. Mostly, they discussed the hospital, Phyllis, Boone and the babies.

At six, Renée switched on a small set she kept in the kitchen. They both liked watching local news.

After the latest regional highlights, the newscaster said, “Exclusive interview with Phyllis Storey, right after the break. You won't want to miss her surprise declaration. Stay tuned!”

Renée muted the ensuing commercial. “Do you suppose she filed for divorce?”

“How would that surprise anyone?” Bailey asked.

“They have to promote some angle. To keep suckers like us watching.”

Bailey wished her sister didn't relish the limelight so much. No telling what she'd say just to stay the center of attention.

A minute later, the newscast returned. There sat Phyllis, her hair color brightened to a honey-blonde. “You said you're going public with a personal matter,” the anchorwoman prompted.

“That's right, Lacey.” Phyllis swung toward the camera. “Before all this ugliness with my husband came crashing down, my sister agreed to serve as a surrogate mother for Boone and me. I was overjoyed when we learned she was carrying twins.”

“She should shut up now,” Bailey said.

“Agreed.” But Renée made no move to turn off the TV, and Bailey didn't ask her to.

On-screen, the anchorwoman prompted, “There's nothing wrong with the babies, I hope.”

Phyllis's jaw took on a bulldog tightness. If only there were some way to reach out and shake her before she spoke again.

Too late. “As a result of my husband's wrongdoing, Bailey backed out on our deal. She refuses to hand over the babies.” Phyllis made it sound as if they'd already been born.

“But surely you have legal rights.”

Phyllis gazed pleadingly at the camera. “I'm afraid not. You see, they're her eggs, so I don't have any rights. I can't tell you what a betrayal this is. I practically raised my sister, who's twelve years younger than me. She can have lots of children, but I can't, and she knows it. I'm an experienced mother, old enough to understand their needs. She's just being selfish and vindictive because she invested some of her money with Boone.”

“Some?” Bailey demanded of the screen. “You mean
all!
”

“Aren't you going to take legal action?” prompted the interviewer.

“What's that woman trying to do?” Renée snarled.

Phyllis made a fluttery gesture. “You can't sue someone for being disloyal. I just want to issue a plea to my sister. Think about those helpless little infants and what their lives will be like with a mother who never wanted them or planned for them.”

It was the anchorwoman's turn to face the camera. “There you are, folks. If Bailey Storey is listening to this broadcast…”

“Bailey Wayne,” Phyllis corrected.

“I appeal to her to join us. Let us hear your side of the
story. Now, let's check out the latest on that fire burning in Riverside County…”

Renée clicked off the set. “Maybe you ought to go on the air and let everyone know how your sister dropped the ball on paying for your medical care.”

“She'd twist whatever I said to position herself as a victim.” Bailey could imagine Phyllis replaying the painful details of her miscarriages. “I just hope people at the hospital don't pay attention to this.”

“I'll set them straight if they do,” Renée promised. “Maybe I don't have a lot of clout as a volunteer, but I can speak my mind.”

“I appreciate it.” As Bailey cleared the dishes, she had to admit that to the casual observer, her decision to back out of the surrogacy agreement must look bad. It would be different if people knew all the financial details and especially that Boone wasn't the father, but revealing the truth would hurt Owen. How ironic that Phyllis had accused her of disloyalty when she was loyal to a fault…to a man who might never appreciate it.

Bailey's cell rang. “That better not be Phyllis.” She dug it from her pocket. “Hello?”

“Hey, Bailey.” Patty's upbeat voice had an immediate calming event. “Hope you're not busy next Saturday.”

Quick mental check. She wasn't expected at the counseling clinic and hadn't made any other plans. “Don't think so. What's up?”

“Alec says the staff's bummed now that the opening's finished, so we decided to throw our wedding at the hospital. Kind of a boost to morale.”

“You're scheduling your wedding to cheer up the staff?” That was unusual enough, and then the timing struck Bailey. “This Saturday? Patty, nobody puts together a wedding that fast.”

She could picture her friend's honest gray eyes blinking away the objection. “Oh, hey, no problem. Jennifer Martin is decorating the auditorium and the cafeteria's going to cater. I insisted on a big stack of bear claws instead of a wedding cake.”

“Okay, you're officially nuts, but what about your dress?”

“My mother-in-law is in charge of costumes,” Patty said blithely. “Here's the thing. I'm stuck having my wacko sister, Rainbow, as my maid of honor, but I want you to be my bridesmaid.”

“You haven't seen me lately,” Bailey protested. “I'm as round as a beach ball.”

“Who cares? Fiona's the flower girl and she's scared to walk up an aisle in front of all those people.” Alec's five-year-old daughter was a real cutie. “She asked if you'd walk with her.”

“Why me?” A few months ago, Bailey had worn her nurse's uniform to help run a teddy bear clinic at Fiona's birthday party. They'd spent a delightful few hours bandaging stuffed animals and taking their vital signs, but she hadn't seen the little girl since then.

“She watched a movie where somebody fainted during a wedding and she insists we need Nurse Bailey on hand,” Patty said. “I explained that the hospital's full of medical personnel, especially with Owen being the best man—”

“Owen's the best man?” That could be awkward.

“It's important that my stepdaughter enjoy the wedding. I'm counting on you. Say yes, okay?”

She might as well. Bailey wouldn't miss Patty's wedding for anything, and she didn't want to hurt Fiona's feelings. “Sure. What should I wear?”

“Darlene will be in touch. Like I said, she's handling the clothes. Frankly, I'd be happy to wear my tuxedo but she
put her foot down.” At Nora's wedding in May, Patty had worn a tux to stand up as best man for Leo, who'd been her patrol partner at the police department before she left to become a detective. The outfit suited her, in Bailey's opinion, but didn't every little girl dream of a white dress with lots of lace?

“We'll have a run-through Saturday morning and the big event's at three,” Patty finished. “The whole staff's invited and that includes your friend Renée. Let her know, will you? We aren't exactly sending formal invitations. More of a blanket email.”

“You bet.”

Smiling, Bailey clicked off. Patty was right. The idea of a wedding did boost her spirits. It was great to have something to look forward to.

 

T
HAT WEEK
, B
AILEY CLUNG TO
her sense of anticipation. She needed it to counteract the annoyance when Phyllis went on the air again, pleading her case as a mom with a broken heart. She must have given the TV station Bailey's cell number, because a woman called several times, trying to persuade her to let them tape an interview. Bailey refused.

On the wedding front, Alec's mother, Darlene Denny, took Bailey shopping and showed her a photo of Patty's sister, Rainbow, an ethereal young woman with flowing blond hair dyed with a pink streak. She was wearing the lavender bridesmaid dress she'd chosen. That shade of pale purple turned Bailey's skin ashen.

“Ever heard of the movie
Corpse Bride?
” she grumbled to Darlene. “Well, I'll be the corpse bridesmaid.”

“We don't have to go all matchy-matchy,” the older woman assured her. “Fiona plans to wear pink. Let's see what we can scare up for you in a complementary shade.”

They found a maternity dress in deep rose that flattered
Bailey's coloring and coordinated with Fi's outfit. Darlene insisted the bridal couple pay for it. Bailey would have objected, but she couldn't afford to. Since Phyllis hadn't bought her any maternity outfits, Bailey had been shopping for them at secondhand stores.

At work, she'd started bringing her lunch to eat in the office because walking through the cafeteria became an ordeal. While her friends stood by her, there were plenty of near-strangers who seemed to have nothing better to do than gossip. On Tuesday, she caught the words
selfish
and
probably go on welfare,
and only resisted dumping her lunch tray on the offending loudmouth because she didn't want to waste the food.

There were no further calls from Owen. Several times in the medical building, she caught him staring at her, but did her best to ignore him. The guy had no idea how much she was sacrificing to protect his secret.

Bailey hadn't yet had the heart to talk to a counselor about adoption. Once she chose a couple, she supposed they might help her financially, but she'd have to stop thinking of the babies as hers. And she wasn't ready to do that.

The scorching hot end-of-September weather cooled off by Friday. Bailey's temper didn't, however, because the evening newscast featured a panel discussion with a medical ethicist, a former surrogate and a woman who claimed to be an advocate for the rights of parents who hired surrogates. Despite a strong urge to turn them off, she watched out of self-defense. Their theme was pretty much what Phyllis had been saying—a deal was a deal.

Yes, in Bailey's opinion, it should be. But she wasn't the one who'd broken faith.

“You should fight back,” Renée urged.

“Maybe next week.” She had no idea what she'd say, though.

That night, Bailey cried herself to sleep. How had her life turned into such a mess, when all she'd tried to do was help her sister? Instead, she'd been made a public pariah, become mother to two babies she couldn't keep and fallen in love with a guy who was rapidly forgetting she existed.

 

B
Y
S
ATURDAY MORNING
, the steeply raked wood-paneled auditorium had been transformed with a profusion of pink, lavender and white flowers and ribbons. Darlene had arranged for the minister from her church to preside, and someone had set up a handsome piano beside the on-stage altar.

The rehearsal went off smoothly except for Fiona dropping her bouquet, which Bailey assured her was good luck. As for Bailey herself, she felt a touch nervous, but that was probably because of the way Owen kept sneaking glances at her.

What did the man expect her to do? She wasn't going to move back into the house just to keep him company.

That afternoon, Bailey joined Patty in Alec's fifth-floor office to help the bride change into her gown. Jennifer had set up a portable full-length mirror, where Patty examined herself skeptically.

“What a gorgeous dress. It fits you perfectly.” Bailey meant every word.

“It's rented.” Patty ran a brush through her straight, chin-length blond hair and replaced the circlet of flowers she'd chosen in lieu of a hat or veil. She—or more likely Darlene—had chosen an elegant long gown with lace covering the shoulders and arms. No strapless design for this bride. “Can't see spending that much money on a dress I'm only going to wear once.”

“You could wear it again to renew your vows on your tenth or twentieth anniversary.” Bailey had read about such ceremonies in the newspaper, although she didn't personally know anyone whose marriage had lasted that long. Certainly not in her family.

Patty shrugged. “Why do I need to renew my vows? I don't plan to break them. Oh, hey, look who just showed up.”

In sashayed Rainbow, who bore little resemblance to her older, taller sister. Her dreamy air gave the impression she'd just materialized from another plane of existence. An employee at a bookstore in San Francisco, Rainbow had grown up with their ex-hippie parents in Arizona, while Patty and her brother had been raised by their strict, ex-military grandfather here in Safe Harbor.

“Is she here yet?” Rainbow asked, which seemed a strange question with the bride standing right in front of her. “I think that's so romantic the way—”