The Doctor's Accidental Family

“I suppose I could ride along,” Zady said.

“And possibly distract the little guy if I need a minute alone with Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan?”

“Sure. I like kids.” Zady hadn’t meant to volunteer for babysitting duty, but she wanted to find out more about Nick’s son.

“It would mean a lot to me.” Reaching across the table, Nick plucked a radish from a bowl and added it to her plate. “A token of my esteem, madam.”

“I’m overwhelmed.”

They were grinning when Marshall emerged from the kitchen. He broke his stride, his high cheekbones coloring.

Oh, great. He probably assumed they were flirting, which they weren’t—exactly. Zady nearly rushed in with an explanation, but they’d been discussing Nick’s private business. Also, what she did on her days off didn’t concern Marshall.

“See you around,” she told Nick, and, with a smile for her boss, carried her food away to eat in peace.

Chapter Five

Keenly aware of the proximity of other people, Nick kept his voice low as he faced his cousin across the dining room. “Don’t take it out on her.”

“Don’t take what out on her?” Marshall frowned at a cabinet full of showy china, then—with an expression of distaste—plucked a paper plate off the stack. Funny how easily Nick tracked his cousin’s reactions, even though they’d avoided contact these past few years. “You mean I shouldn’t blame her because she’s on good terms with my cousin? As always, you assume I’m an ogre.”

As always, I’m probably right. That would sound childish, Nick conceded. “I had no idea you’d joined the staff.”

“Same here.” With surgical precision, Marshall formulated a sandwich, trimming off edges of meat and cheese that lapped over the crust. “I’ve admired Cole Rattigan for years. Anyone would leap at the opportunity to join his program and play a role in its growth.”

Leaning against a wall, Nick started to bite into his pita, but he’d overfilled it. To avoid smearing his face, he returned it to his plate. “My motives were less noble. I applied for the overnight labor-and-delivery shift, plus evening hours, to pay for my student loans.” He paused, unsure whether to reveal more.

“Is that a slam?” Marshall asked, measuring a small, rounded serving of carrot salad.

“How would that be a slam?”

“You resent my financial advantages,” his cousin said.

“I’d love to be debt-free,” Nick conceded. “I’d also love to have had a father like yours who supported his family instead of abandoning them. That doesn’t mean I resent you for either.”

Marshall’s eyes narrowed. Had Nick unwittingly stepped on his toes with such a plain statement of fact?

“I hadn’t considered your perspective.” Marshall gazed distractedly through the window toward the wetlands that bordered Karen’s property.

Above the brown-and-green expanse, a pelican took flight, and Nick recalled reading that the estuary was a bird sanctuary. Its decomposing vegetation was also the source of a rotten-egg smell he’d noticed outside. Mercifully, it either didn’t penetrate the house or he’d quickly grown accustomed to it.

His cousin continued, “But you haven’t considered my perspective, either.”

“Enlighten me.”

“My dad may have paid the bills, but he spent almost every waking minute running his company.” The late Upton Davis had founded a medical-device firm to market his designs. “I wish he’d spent more time with me. But you’re right. I was lucky I didn’t have an alcoholic father.”

“Dad’s primary problem wasn’t alcoholism, it was being bipolar.” Nick didn’t mean to defend the man. “Not that that’s an excuse. He failed in his obligations and I’m still picking up the pieces.”

Marshall shrugged. “The bottom line being, we’re colleagues now.”

“And since we are, let me clear up a misconception.” No sense allowing ignorance to fester. “Whatever you may have heard, I did not abandon my son. I’ve helped support Caleb for the past three years and visited as often as his mother and my schedule would allow. Now that she’s dead, I have legal custody, although at present he’s staying with his grandparents.”

“You have custody of your son? I apologize for misinforming Zady.” Marshall’s face revealed an unexpected glint of longing. “And you named him Caleb after our grandfather? That’s excellent.”

When Nick had suggested it before the birth, Bethany had merely added it to her list of possible names. He was grateful she’d chosen it. “Too bad Grandpa didn’t live to meet his namesake.”

His cousin swallowed. “You’re a lucky guy.”

“Yes, I am.” It had never occurred to Nick that Marshall might envy him for being a father. Perhaps the man’s steely surface and superior attitude didn’t tell the whole story.

The drift of people into the adjacent living room discouraged further conversation. Jack Ryder quirked an eyebrow at Nick as if to ask what he and Marshall had been discussing.

Did this dispute about the dental building have to spark armed us-against-them camps? Well, perhaps where he and his cousin were concerned, a certain amount of antagonism was inevitable.

Taking his leave, he carried his bulging pita into the kitchen to eat over the sink and dispose of the mess.

Zady had had a point, he reflected, and not only about fixing smaller sandwiches. Staying out of office politics was a prudent policy, not that he would necessarily adopt it.

He hoped for more of her good advice tomorrow. Six months ago, allowing the Carrigans to keep his son had been the best course for the boy’s well-being, but that had changed.

* * *

WHAT DID YOU WEAR on a not-date with an attractive man while avoiding a wrong impression, especially when you weren’t sure what the right impression was?

Zady laid out several pairs of pants, then removed the jeans because the little boy’s grandparents might disapprove. Then again, no matter how strongly Nick assured them Zady was merely a friend, they’d undoubtedly compare her to their daughter’s sainted memory. They must still be grieving deeply.

She studied her remaining choices. Navy slacks and a print blouse struck her as too much like a uniform. What about tan slacks and a red, blue and tan–striped shirt? Should she pair it with a red sweater or a tan one?

She could use feedback—not Zora’s, since Zady wasn’t about to spread the word that she’d be accompanying Nick. She missed the easy exchanges of opinion she’d had with her friend Alice Madison. They used to consult each other about all sorts of issues when they worked in the same medical building in Santa Barbara.

Zady picked up the phone. It ought to be possible to reestablish ties, since Alice’s new address in Culver City was less than an hour’s drive from here. They might even meet for lunch occasionally on weekends.

Several buzzes later, her friend’s voice responded with a puzzled “Hello?”

Hadn’t she recognized Zady’s number? “It’s me, Zady.”

A pause, then a lackluster “Hi.”

Judging by her friend’s uncharacteristic lack of energy, all was not well. Zady felt foolish for calling about such a trivial matter. Her heart squeezed at the possibility that anything might be wrong with Alice’s little girl, Linda, who was Zady’s godchild. A health problem would also explain why she’d received only a perfunctory email thanking her for the doll playhouse she’d sent at Christmas.

“How are things?” Zady asked.

“Not good.” Alice took a shaky breath. “Bill and I may be splitting.”

“You can’t!” Great response. “I mean, he seems like such a nice guy.”

In her late thirties, Alice had recovered from an early divorce and become a radiant bride, marrying a physiotherapist who shared her goals and showered her with affection. Pooling their medical expertise and interest in health, they’d launched a company that put on lifestyle seminars and sold health supplements and portable exercise equipment.

“We thought moving to Southern California would be fantastic for business, and it has been,” Alice said. “What we didn’t count on was the amount of work it would be. Add a toddler to the mix and we hardly ever have a free moment. When we do, we argue.”

Tucking the phone against her shoulder, Zady changed into the tan pants. “This is a temporary glitch. You can work through it.”

“Bill set up a month’s worth of seminars around the Western states without consulting me.” Alice sighed. “He says he can handle it by himself, but if I’m not there, things will fall apart. This tour is too much for one person to coordinate. I told him to cancel it until Linda’s older, but he insists we have to strike while the iron is hot.”

“That’s hardly a reason to divorce him.” Discovering that she’d buttoned her shirt crooked, Zady started over. She’d promised to meet Nick in less than fifteen minutes.

“He’s high-handed and condescending,” Alice burst out. “I assumed we’d be true partners. Instead, he acts as if he’s the boss and I’m the employee.”

Zady could hardly suggest Alice learn to tolerate such a situation. Still, she couldn’t encourage her friend to abandon her marriage, either. “Sit down with him and figure out a compromise. Your little girl needs both her parents.”

“You really love her, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Zady said. “I just wish I could spend more time with her.”

“You wouldn’t...do anything, would you?”

“Do anything?” Then it hit Zady what she meant. “Of course not!”

Nearly four years ago, after Alice had learned that her body was no longer producing viable eggs, she’d wept on Zady’s shoulder. She’d have been content to adopt and Bill had agreed, but as the only child of high-achieving parents, he’d longed for a baby to carry on his family’s genetic heritage. And Alice wanted to provide one.

As an obstetrical nurse, Alice had colleagues who had been willing to waive their usual fees for the in vitro procedure, but she and Bill would have had to go into debt to pay for an egg donor. Without hesitation, Zady had volunteered, and the process had brought the women even closer.

When their baby girl was born, Zady had been thrilled to be chosen as godmother. Alice and Bill had considered her part of the family, welcoming her offers to babysit Linda.

After they moved to the Los Angeles area, she’d driven down from Santa Barbara occasionally to babysit on weekends when they were tied up with seminars. But these past few months they’d grown distant. Zady had assumed her move to Orange County would help, but now she understood why Alice had been reluctant to confide in her.

“I know you counted on us to raise Linda as a married couple.” Alice’s voice trembled. “But this is beyond my control.”

“I would never interfere.” Zady had signed legal papers surrendering her rights. And much as she loved her goddaughter, she was in no position to raise a child unless there was no other option.

“I’m glad you called. It’s been hard for me to get any perspective on the situation.” Alice broke off as a toddler’s voice squawked in the background. “Oh dear, she’s finished her nap already.”

The girl’s cry of, “Mommy, I need you!” cut straight to Zady’s heart. When she’d last seen Linda, the child had just begun stringing two words together, and now she’d spoken a whole sentence. She was growing up fast.

Without me. But that had been the arrangement, and she had no intention of trying to change that. “Will you consider having a serious discussion with Bill?” Zady asked. “Or is it too late for that?”

“No. I was just letting off steam. I haven’t consulted a lawyer or anything.” Alice sounded less frazzled. “You’re a terrific friend. I should have remembered that sooner.”

“Please stay in touch. I care about you.”

“I’ll call with an update when I have one.”

“You can count on me.”

After they said goodbye, Zady finished dressing and applied makeup, her mind whirling. Would Linda really have to grow up in a single-parent home? Surely a five-minute conversation with her hadn’t resolved Alice’s problems.

Zady had believed she was doing the right thing by donating her eggs and entrusting her daughter to two loving parents. Surely interfering now would be selfish, and possibly harmful. Or was she rationalizing?

It would be hard to focus on Nick’s issues with his son while her thoughts were buzzing with what she’d learned. But she’d promised to be there for him and his little boy, and Zady meant to keep her word.

* * *

NICK WISHED HE’D done more than muck out the empty fast-food sacks and grocery receipts littering his blue coupe before Zady climbed in. As he steered onto the freeway with Zady belted into the seat beside him, her soft floral fragrance sensitized him to the messy accumulation of lint, fingerprints and window streaks that a bachelor took for granted.

But surely there was another cause for her remote attitude than his messy car. Since she hadn’t brought it up, he risked a guess. “In case you’re worried, Marshall didn’t seem concerned about you and me having a friendly chat yesterday.”

“Did you mention today’s trip?” Zady asked.

“It never came up.”

“I’ll tell him tomorrow, unless you’d rather I didn’t talk about your son.”

“No, that’s fine. I corrected his erroneous impression about my relationship with Caleb.”

“How’d he take it?”

“Oddly enough, with a touch of envy.”

Zady didn’t respond. She continued gazing out the window at a cluster of low-rise buildings.

It wasn’t an inspiring landscape. Far from the beach and harbor from which the town’s name derived, the view included stretches of modest houses punctuated by big-box stores and light-industrial buildings.

Zady’s silence left room for Nick to ponder what lay ahead. He’d concentrated on paying off his debts and saving for a down payment on a house, equating economic security with providing a loving home. But I’m his father. Having grown up largely without one, Nick, of all people, understood what a painful hole it left in a child’s heart to live apart from his father.

He’d considered his cousin incredibly lucky to have a dad who stuck around. But judging by Marshall’s comments yesterday, Upton Davis’s occasional presence hadn’t been enough.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said aloud. “Maybe I owe it to my son to bring him to live with me.”

Zady swiveled toward him. “I realize these are his grandparents, but to a little kid, they’re like parents. He must have bonded with them. You can’t just yank a kid out of a happy home because you love him.”

What did she know about it? “My goal is to keep him safe and happy,” Nick protested. “I’m questioning whether I’ve been fair about that.”

She folded her arms. “You brought me along for my feedback, right?”

“Yes. And?”

“And I have the impression that you’ve been willing to stay on the fringes of his life if that’s what’s best,” she returned. “If he’s happy with his grandparents, why change now?”

“I haven’t committed to changing anything.” Nick didn’t understand why she spoke with such fervor. “I’m afraid the Carrigans may plan to sue for custody, and they’re building a case that I’m a neglectful dad.”

“And you’ll fight them for all you’re worth, no matter what’s best for your son?”

He was growing more confused by the minute. “I assumed you’d be objective.”

“I am!”

“Then where is this coming from?”

Her mouth opened, and quickly clamped shut. Busy transitioning onto another freeway, Nick allowed her space to reflect.

“I suppose it would help if I knew more about the circumstances of Caleb’s birth and your relationship with his mother,” Zady said more mildly.

“Good idea.” Nick recalled telling her that Bethany had died in a boating accident, but that left a lot of ground to cover. “About four years ago, I’d just finished my residency at UC Irvine and was working at a clinic in Fullerton, near where I grew up. When I met Bethany at a party, we clicked right off. Mutual attraction and all that.”

“Hot sex,” she summarized.

No point in dwelling on that obvious truth. “She was fun to be around.” Bethany had had thick dark hair, a merry laugh and, he’d discovered, a flawed sense of responsibility. “We dated for a few months. She told me she was on the pill, and I used a condom, too. Hey, I’m a doctor, not an idiot.”

“The pill failed and the condom leaked?” Zady rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. In case you forgot, I’m a nurse.”

“It turned out that Bethany only took the pill sporadically. But I’ll admit, I got careless, too. We were both responsible.”

Even on a Sunday, there was a steady stream of cars and trucks on the road, but having a passenger enabled Nick to use the carpool lane. He accelerated onto a soaring single-lane overpass, swooping above regular traffic.

“Having fun?” Zady asked.

Taking the hint, he eased off the gas. “Too fast?”

“I left my stomach back on the 55,” Zady said. “However, I appreciate the illustration of how you approach relationships—full speed ahead.”

“Unfair,” he protested.

“Finish the story.”

Blending into the carpool lane on Interstate 5, Nick dredged up more memories from that difficult period. “When Bethany told me she was pregnant, I did what I figured was the right thing. I asked her to marry me.”

Zady regarded him skeptically. “A romantic proposal with flowers, a ring and so forth?”

“More of a ‘we should get married’ proposal,” Nick admitted.

“And to your astonishment, she declined.”

“She insisted on placing the baby for adoption.”

“You didn’t object?”

“I had no right to pressure her,” he said. “How could I insist Bethany do what I wasn’t prepared for—raise a child alone?”

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