The Surgeon's Surprise Twins (7 page)

Owen began to pace. What was taking Bailey so long? She didn't seem like the type to fold her clothes with military precision.

The light remained red.

At thirteen weeks' gestation, the fetus was fully formed from its fingers to its toes. He couldn't count the number of times he'd run over the facts with expectant parents, but today everything felt different. In just a few minutes, he'd be witnessing a miracle. His miracle. His and Bailey's.

With a start, Owen realized he'd forgotten to fetch the sonogram equipment and went down the hall to retrieve it from a cabinet. The entire machine, complete with computer screen and keyboard, fit neatly onto a cart, which he wheeled back toward the examining room.

The light was still red. After a split second's internal debate, he tapped on the door. “You okay?”

“Oh!” A scrabbling noise, and the light changed to green.

He opened the door. “You forgot?” How was that possible? She dealt with patients and their stop-go lights every day.

“I was distracted.” Sitting on the examining table, Bailey pulled the dressing gown tightly around her.

To Owen's dismay, he had to deliberately block out an awareness of her rounded breasts beneath the cloth. However temporarily, Bailey was his patient, and he had no business getting aroused. He'd never, ever crossed the line between being a doctor and being a man. Never allowed himself to be tempted.

Had she been right? Was this improper?

Oh, just get on with it.

Positioning the cart to one side, he lifted the Doppler stethoscope from the wall. This microphone-like device also used sound waves, in this case to represent the fetal heartbeat. “You can position it yourself if you prefer.”

Bailey practically snatched the stethoscope from his hand and slid it through the front gap in her gown. “I don't hear a heartbeat!” She stared at him in alarm.

Owen chuckled. “Try moving it until you find the right place.”

She blushed. “I knew that. But I thought this
was
the right place. Okay, okay.” She shifted the device. Still nothing. Owen fought the impulse to grab the stethoscope and position it with practiced skill.

And then, from a small speaker on the wall, whooshing noises filled the room, galloping like a runaway horse. Fast, but no more than normal for a fetus at this stage.

“Wow.” Bailey's wide gaze met his. “It's strong.”

Owen could hardly swallow. Yes, it was. Strong enough to last for decades, perhaps to keep on beating for a century. It was the sound of the future.

He'd described the heartbeat in similar terms for countless parents, and smiled at their wondering reactions. Now a fresh sense of awe spread through him. His child. What
kind of person would it become? What kind of life would it lead?

With an effort, Owen remembered why they'd come here. “Move it some more,” he said.

“Why?” Her nose wrinkled. “Oh.” She shifted the device, and they both heard the same thing.

Another galloping horse in the background.

“Could that be an echo?” Bailey asked.

Enough of halfway measures. “Let's find out for sure,” Owen said, removing the stethoscope and switching on the sonogram machine.

His gut tightened. Because for just a moment, in the rush of noises, he'd imagined he heard a little voice whispering, “Hello, Daddy.”

Or had that been two little voices?

Twins. Even though she'd known that was possible, Bailey couldn't believe it. Yes, twins could and did occur without fertility drugs, both the identical and the fraternal types, but she hadn't expected it.

Phyllis with two babies. A girl for her, a boy for Boone? Or were they both the same sex?

As she lay back on the table and let Owen spread gel on her stomach, Bailey tried to picture her sister and brother-in-law getting up at night to change two sets of diapers. Playing with a pair of toddlers under the Christmas tree. Shooting video as the kids raced up the walkway to their first day at school.

They kept fading from the picture. It was Bailey soothing a crying infant and helping rip the colorful paper from holiday presents, Bailey who held the camera to her eye, capturing that key moment. And beside her…would there ever be a man beside her?

“There's baby number one.” The pressure on her stomach and the sound of Owen's voice snatched Bailey from her reflections.

“Can you tell the sex?” Even though she knew perfectly well that was unlikely at this early stage, she longed for an answer.

He peered closely at the screen. “Not close enough to
call it. Okay, baby number two, please come out from behind the curtain.”

“This isn't a game!”

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because I was pretending for a minute that they were really mine.”

Although she braced for a smart-aleck comment, Owen kept his attention on the fluid black-and-white shapes pulsing on the screen. “Here we go. Baby number two. Active little guy, isn't he? Or she. They'd better enjoy themselves while they still have room to maneuver. When they get bigger, they'll be poking their elbows into you and each other.”

“You don't have to tell me that,” she groused, mostly because she wanted to vent at someone.

“Sorry. Most patients enjoy my little jokes.”

“I'm not enjoying anything about this.”

That wasn't true. Bailey had never seen anything more beautiful or amazing than the two precious bundles of life she carried inside her.

This ought to be a wonderful moment. Phyllis should be here brimming with delight. Boone ought to have his arm around his wife's waist as they eagerly followed the infants' activity.

We could have invited them today.
But they had a standing invitation to accompany her to checkups. While Phyllis had gone with her to the first visit, Boone hadn't bothered, and neither had been present for the second.

The growing sense that she'd put her trust in the wrong people scared the heck out of Bailey. How was she going to entrust two helpless infants to parents who already had a poor track record when it came to parenting?

Yet she didn't see a choice. Even if she had some way to raise two babies on her own, she couldn't get out of this.
She'd signed an ironclad contract. Well, considering these were her eggs, perhaps not entirely ironclad, but because the babies would be Boone's genetic children. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life sharing custody with her brother-in-law, not to mention incurring what would no doubt be her sister's undying hatred?

A deal's a deal.
That was practically the Wayne family motto. As kids, she and Phyllis had learned not to strike a bargain with their mother and then try to renegotiate. After complaining about their mom's hit-or-miss cooking, a twelve-year-old Bailey had boasted that she could do better, and accepted a challenge to cook dinner every night for a month. Her mother had held her to the deal, even though by the end they were eating cheese toast and canned spaghetti most nights. Come to think of it, that had been what they frequently ate when her Mom was cooking, too.

Owen continued to slide the probe across Bailey's bulge, pressing harder than seemed necessary. “It's incredible that sound waves can produce a picture from inside you, isn't it?”

“It's even more incredible that you can go on poking me like an unripe melon,” Bailey grumbled. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find baby number three. If there is one.”

She nearly stopped breathing. “Triplets?”

More pressure. “Nope. Looks like nature stopped at the pair of them. Got any names picked out?”

“That isn't up to me, remember?”

“Force of habit.” He paused the probe, pressed a button and printed out an image. “Everything looks good with the umbilical cord. Two separate placentas.”

“So they're fraternal.”

“Not necessarily.” He went on to explain that while
identical twins could share a placenta, that wasn't always the case.

He didn't stop there. As he captured more images, he elaborated that two-thirds of twins were fraternal, and that while most of the remaining third were identical, in rare instances a woman might have half-identical twins. This occurred when a single egg split into two halves, which were then fertilized by separate sperm. These babies shared about seventy-five percent of their genetic markers, Owen said. Full identicals shared one hundred percent and fraternals had fifty percent in common, the same as singleton siblings.

“Why are you telling me this?” Bailey demanded.

He gave her a startled glance. “Don't you find it fascinating?”

“No!” Why hadn't she considered the possibility of complications before she leaped into surrogacy? Grimly, she stared up at him. “Carrying twins requires extra medical attention, and extra expense.”

“Which is why you should start using a doctor on staff here.” Removing the device, Owen wiped her stomach with a disposable towel. “I can help arrange that.”

Under other circumstances, Bailey might have been impressed with his willingness to go to such lengths. At the moment, however, she had no energy to spare for anything except her own turbulent emotions. “I have to talk to Phyllis. About it being twins and…everything.”

“I'll go with you.” He was smearing as much gel as he removed.

Sitting up, Bailey snatched the towelette and finished removing the goop. “You mean now?”

“Can't think of a better time.”

She wasn't sure she wanted this opinionated male intruding into a touchy situation. On the other hand, the
discovery that she carried two babies threatened to overwhelm Bailey's reserve of confidence. As a nurse, she knew all too well that behind the happy baby pictures lay months of extra tests and added discomforts, as well as the increased likelihood of a Cesarean birth.

What would it hurt, this once, to have a man by her side? Obviously he wasn't
her
man, but for the moment he served as her doctor. Also, they were related. And, she reminded herself, it was her sister and brother-in-law's fault that Owen had intruded into her home, which was how he'd become involved in the first place.

“Okay. But remember, you're only along for moral support.” Bailey adjusted her gown to cover her bare stomach. “I'm taking the lead and you can back me up with a few medical facts. Got it?”

Owen gave her a mock salute. “Yes, boss.” She couldn't see his expression after that because he turned and wheeled the cart out of the room.

But she thought he was grinning.

 

T
YPICAL FOR
S
UNDAY
, boats of all sizes and stripes filled Safe Harbor as Owen escorted Bailey to his brother's door. Was it really only two days since he'd come here for the first time, anticipating the sight of his sister-in-law's pregnant figure?

He hadn't even known Bailey existed. Now, not only did they share a house, they shared a legacy.

At the office, as he'd checked out the babies' miniature noses and perfect little arms and legs, he'd felt an irrational urge to talk to them.
Who are you guys? What kind of people will you be? Where are you going in life?

And he'd started to get concerned about what kind of father Boone would be. The guy's dad hadn't been a great role model. You could pretty much count on Mr. Storey
missing his arranged visits. Birthdays and holidays were the same, with Boone moping around, waiting for a dad who never showed. The next day, there might be a phone call filled with excuses. Other times, nothing for months.

But Owen hadn't thought about that when he agreed to his brother's request. He hadn't given any thought to the child or children that might result. And he hadn't visualized a mother like Bailey, alternately sweet and snappish, tenderhearted and bristling with indignation.

Whether she liked it or not, he considered her under his protection.

On the phone, Phyllis had sounded worried when Owen called to say he and Bailey needed to see the two of them. Boone had gone out of town for a few days, she'd informed him. Couldn't they postpone this?

When he said it was important, he'd heard the alarm in her voice.
You didn't tell her…?
No, he'd said, glad he was making the call from his office while Bailey dressed, so he could speak freely. It had nothing to do with his paternity.

He pressed the chimes a second time. “Big house,” Bailey said. “Takes a while to get to the door.”

“She's expecting us. It shouldn't take that long.”

“Don't start criticizing my sister!” Bailey's jaw set stubbornly.

Owen reined in his impatience. “All right.”

“And remember to let me take the lead,” she added. “The surrogacy is between me, Phyllis and Boone. Uncles don't have rights. Got it?”

If you only knew.
Again, he flirted with the notion that he ought to tell her. Full disclosure, especially considering how much they were sharing.

But even though Bailey didn't know the whole story, she had a point: this wasn't his battle. He'd given his sperm freely, without conditions. And cute as those tiny babies
were, he wasn't prepared to take responsibility for raising them.

He caught the now-familiar slap of sandals inside. When the door opened, Phyllis regarded them warily. She'd stuck her blond hair atop her head, carelessly fastened with a pin, and her makeup looked smeared. Had she been crying, or had she simply dressed in a hurry?

“Come on in.” She gave her sister a hug and then, over Bailey's shoulder, shot a what-the-hell look at Owen. “Is everything all right?”

“I'm fine.” Bailey led the way inside. “Where's a good place to talk?”

Phyllis guided them through the entryway, down a hall and into a formal living room worthy of a Greek tycoon. As he took a seat on a striped, silk-covered Regency chair, Owen glanced at the closest niche and wondered who had picked out the bare-chested statue of a goddess with grape leaves in her hair.

He scarcely refrained from smacking himself in the forehead. This entire house screamed “expensive rental.” Expensive and in questionable taste.

“We, uh…” Bailey cleared her throat. “I'm not complaining, but I missed my three-month checkup because I couldn't pay the doctor.”

Phyllis remained standing by the fireplace, her fingers drumming lightly on the mantel. “Why not? We've given you a free place to live.”

Arguing over finances was a waste of time. “The point is, I just administered an ultrasound,” Owen said. “She's having twins.”

He tried to sort out the expressions that flashed across Phyllis's face. Childlike amazement…concern…and a lot of other things that went by too fast to register. “So this is good news. Is it a boy and a girl?”

“Too soon to tell.” Bailey sat forward on the edge of the sofa. “But they're unbelievable!” From her large purse, she produced a folder with a sonogram image Owen had given her.

Crossing the room, Phyllis studied it with a frown. “What's this?” Stepping away to avoid Bailey's attempt to help, she turned the picture. “Oh, I see. That's an arm, and…the head seems big. Is there something wrong with it?”

“They're completely normal, as far as I can tell,” Owen assured her.

“Having twins is going to require more medical care,” Bailey put in. “I can't keep fronting the money.”

“Also, by the third trimester, she might need to take leave from work,” Owen added. “Driving back and forth to a doctor in L.A. may be more than she can manage. Have you considered how you're going to take care of her?”

“One thing at a time.” Phyllis sat down next to Bailey. “That's months away. You're fine for the moment, aren't you?”

“I feel great,” Bailey said.

“And now that you've had this ultrasound, you can skip a checkup, which saves money,” her sister put in. “By next month, we'll be in shape to afford anything you need. So what's the rush?”

“I… Maybe there isn't one.”

Owen couldn't believe Bailey was buying this. “Having an informal sonogram does
not
substitute for a regular doctor visit. With twins, it'll be more necessary than ever to monitor her blood pressure and glucose level, among other things. Complications of pregnancy can come on suddenly and they can be life-threatening if not detected early.”

“You just said they come on suddenly.” Phyllis's glare
radiated darts in his direction. “If that's the case, how can they be detected early?”

“She's got you there,” Bailey told him with a twist of a smile.

“This isn't a joke.” Owen couldn't believe these two were dismissing his medical opinion. As if a nurse and her sister knew more than an expert in the field! “You require continuity of care. Do I need to explain that? Someone has to watch how you're changing and how the babies are growing.”

“You promised you'd let me take the lead,” Bailey burst out. “You're just along for the ride. And maybe to offer a little medical advice, which we're free to accept or not.”

“This isn't your baby—aren't your babies,” Phyllis amended. It was an open challenge, as if she were daring him to speak up.

Owen nearly took the bait. But what then? If he claimed paternity, that wouldn't change the fact that he'd agreed to father a baby for his brother. In every state that he was aware of, a sperm donor gave up all rights to the offspring so long as the donation was freely made, the donor wasn't the woman's husband, and the insemination was performed by a licensed doctor. In this case, all three conditions had been met.