Father By Choice

For a fraction of a second, something that looked like discomfort flashed across his stoic features.

Emily settled farther back on the bed, no longer making any attempt to leave. As a matter of fact, she was doing her best to convey the impression that she planned to stay awhile.

“Once I collapsed in a store and before I came to, I’d told the owner all about the affair he was having with his bookkeeper,” she lied blithely. “Of course, he was a little upset at me since his wife was standing right next to him at the time. But that’s one of the drawbacks of being a semiconscious psychic.”

Brad’s eyes darted toward the phone on the wall. Debating whether he should call for restraints or a psychiatric consultation?

“This is really exciting, Doctor. You don’t know how glad I am you told me. So many people are afraid of acknowledging any sense beyond the mundane five—especially people from the so-called scientific disciplines. Why most doctors wouldn’t dream of repeating what you did for fear of being ridiculed.”

His eyebrows inched so tightly together, they were about to meet.

“Please, you must give me the details of everything you said and what I told you,” she begged. “When I tell people about this, they’re going to want to be sure you didn’t give me any hints. Not that I blame them for being skeptical. There are so many fakes out there. Do you mind if I borrow some paper and a pen to take notes?”

To his credit, he didn’t so much as flinch. But he was clenching the hospital chart so hard, his knuckles were white. It took an effort of will for Emily to keep a straight face.

A nurse rapped once on the door, then stuck her head into the room. “You want the concussion or the bleeder?”

“The bleeder,” he said. “Ms. Barrett is ready to be released.”

He shoved the paperwork in the nurse’s hands and was out of the room so fast that Emily could feel the gust of air displaced in his wake.

She let out a sigh of relief. Well, she’d managed to dodge that bullet. But only just. On paper, Brad Winslow had been very impressive. In person he was one formidable son of a gun.

“ARE YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY, EM?” Dorothy Mission asked for the umpteenth time as they worked together to prepare dinner in her kitchen.

Dumping the romaine lettuce she’d chopped into a large salad bowl, Emily sent her friend a look of exasperation. “If you don’t stop asking me if I’m okay, I’m going to throw this salad at you.”

Dorothy smiled. “Could you wait until you slice in the tomatoes? A green outfit always looks more festive with a nice splash of red.”

Emily chuckled as she went back to her task. “Truth is, I nearly had a heart attack when it dawned on me that I’d unconsciously blabbed all that stuff to Brad Winslow.”

“Imagine the jolt he must have felt hearing what you said.”

“At least he made sure I was okay and everything that was medical had been attended to before he tried to nail me to the wall on it.”

“Em, I know you said you never wanted to meet him, but now that you have, are you glad?”

She gave the question some serious thought as she chopped the carrots. “I admit it did satisfy a certain curiosity.”

“Is he everything that you…hoped?”

Emily glanced over at the speculative look on her friend’s face. “Forget it, Dot. He’s just a man like any other. And, as far as I’m concerned, good for one thing and one thing only.”

“Oh, I think they might have one or two other uses,” her friend said with a mischievous smile.

“I can open tight jars and take out the trash myself, thank you,” Emily said, knowing perfectly well that was not what Dot had been referring to.

“Come on,” Dorothy persisted. “You selected Brad Winslow out of the hundreds you could have picked. You must think he’s special. What stood out most strongly when you met him today?”

“That he’s no one to fool around with. If I hadn’t lied my head off and known what button to push, he’d have found me out, and I’d be in serious trouble now.”

“Em, I respect your wishes on this, really I do. But you’re such a nice person that… I mean even after all you’ve been through, I guess I still hope you’ll…oh, forget it. You’re right. I can’t pretend to understand what I haven’t experienced. And people who say they know how someone else feels are irritating.”

“On that we agree wholeheartedly,” Emily said.

“You two are agreeing?” Holly Mission said as she entered the room. “Oh, this can’t be good.”

Dorothy gave her daughter a hug. Holly was both smart and sweet—a seventeen-year-old version of her mom.

“So, is Lester gone?” Dorothy asked Holly.

“Yeah, Josh and I stuck around until he got his stuff together and drove off.”

“Did you get his key to the maintenance gate?”

“Oh, hell, Mom. I forgot.”

“Key?” Emily repeated.

“Lester quit,” Dorothy said. “When I went to bawl him out about the leaf blower incident sending you to the E.R. this afternoon, I found him loading sacks of organic fertilizer into his pickup.”

“He was stealing them?”

Dorothy nodded. “First story he gave me was that he was moving the sacks to the other side of the Gardens so they’d be in place when he fertilized next week. But when I pointed to some of your new rose hybrids in between the sacks of fertilizer in his pickup, he had no convenient lie ready for why they were there.”

Emily shook her head. “I’ve been wondering why so many of our supplies seemed to be missing lately.”

“His father has opened a small nursery on the outskirts of town,” Dorothy said. “No doubt Lester’s been taking the supplies from the Botanical Gardens over to him. I told him he had a choice. Either quit or I’d see to it that you fired him.”

“That must have been hard for you, Dot.”

“I never should have suggested you hire him in the first place. I love my cousin but her kid is a loser. I swear he got all of his father’s genes and not one of hers. When Lester was thirteen, I caught him stealing from her purse so he could buy marijuana from another kid pushing it at school. Supposedly, he got himself clean. But clean or not, ten years later and he’s still a thief.”

“I’m sorry about forgetting the key, Emily,” Holly said. “But I don’t think Lester will come back. I watched closely to make sure that he didn’t try to put anything that wasn’t his into his pickup. Josh was right beside me, scowling at him the whole time he was getting his stuff together. And when he started to drive away, Josh yelled at him not to come back.”

“Well, good for our Josh,” Dorothy said. “He seems to be working out okay despite his grandfather’s claim that the boy’s clueless.”

“Josh is a very good assistant,” Emily said. “He simply needs a little time to find his direction in life.”

“Speaking of time,” Holly said, “Josh asked me to remind you to meet with the crane guy today.”

“I have. The sundial has been prepped and readied for tomorrow.”

“Do you need my help on anything?” Dorothy asked.

“Thanks, but I took care of the other last-minute details before coming over. Gardens, dignitaries and media are all in line. We are good to go, Mission Control.”

Dorothy smiled as she set a plate of sliced roast beef on the kitchen table. Emily put the mixed-salad bowl between the beef and a basket of steaming baked potatoes. The fact that her friend still insisted on eating in the kitchen when Emily joined them always made her feel like one of the Mission family.

“Smartest thing I ever did was to convince my fellow board members to put you in charge of the Founders Day Celebration. It’s going to be a smashing success, Em.”

“Okay, what are all you smashing women smashing now?” Ted Mission asked with a grin as he came rustling in the back door, keys and briefcase jangling by his side.

Dorothy immediately stopped what she was doing and went to greet her husband.

Ted and Dorothy Mission had been married more than twenty-five years, were past fifty and packed a dozen extra pounds of good living around their middles. But the embrace and kiss they shared were as hot as young lovers’.

“They’re at it again,” Holly said, shaking her head, but wearing a smile.

Emily watched her friends as she always did—with undisguised envy. Dorothy and Ted had it all—rewarding careers, a long-term love match and a brainy daughter headed for Harvard in the fall.

Once Emily had dreamed of having it all. Now she knew that fulfilling work and a precious baby to love would be enough.

For men might come and go. But a child was forever.

ATTENDING PHYSICIAN Alec Giroux was going over charts when Brad walked by his office on his way out. He waved Brad over.

“You certainly had your share of crazies today,” Alec said as he gestured to the stack of charts in front of him. “Nice save on that chest wound.”

“We were lucky we didn’t lose anyone,” Brad said as he folded his arms and rested his leg against the desk.

Alec leaned back in his chair, the expression on his face conveying the fact that he knew luck had nothing to do with it. “You’re going to ace those board exams next month.”

Brad appreciated the vote of confidence. From the moment he’d begun his residency in emergency medicine at Courage Bay Hospital four years before, Alec had been far more friend and supporter than supervisor.

“You going to take Guy up on his offer of a permanent position here when the exams are over?” Alec asked.

Brad wanted to. In his first month on the job he’d learned more from Alec and his brother, Guy, their chief of emergency medicine, than he’d learned in all his years at medical school. They were the best.

But the money at the community hospital was not. He hadn’t paid off all of his eight years of staggering school loans.

“I’m giving it some thought,” he said, honestly.

Alec nodded. As a single father, he probably knew how difficult it could be to catch up on bills and make ends meet.

“I was reviewing Emily Barrett’s chart,” he said. “Surprised to see it among the bunch of wackos we had walking the halls today.”

Even hearing her name was enough to get Brad to un-cross his arms and plant both feet firmly beneath him. “You know Emily Barrett?”

“My sister, Natalie, says she’s a regular in the pediatric and geriatric wards upstairs.”

Yeah, Brad figured knowing someone at this hospital was how Emily had really learned that personal stuff about him.

“Emily brings flowers and potted plants to the patients who don’t get visitors,” Alec continued. “Nice lady.”

“Certifiable kook,” Brad said beneath his breath.

“I pulled her hospital records,” Alec went on, not having heard the comment. “I was hoping they might shed some light on her prolonged unconsciousness today, but no clues there. You were right to suggest more tests. Shame she refused them. All we can do is trust that she’ll follow up with her obstetrician.”

Brad took a step forward. “She didn’t tell me she’d been admitted to this hospital.”

“Outpatient in the OB-GYN clinic for her artificial insemination eight weeks ago,” Alec explained as he handed over the record. “Dr. Jill Crispin does all of her inseminations and deliveries here.”

Brad started, not sure he’d heard right. “Are you telling me Jill Crispin from the Crispin Fertility Clinic is Emily Barrett’s doctor?”

“You know Dr. Crispin?”

“I’ve heard of her,” Brad said as he quickly read through the hospital record of Emily Barrett that he held in his hands. This had to be a coincidence. The transactions were absolutely confidential. No way either party could learn about the other.

Except as his eyes fixed on Emily Barrett’s maiden name, he suddenly saw that there was one way.

“Brad, is there something wrong? Brad?”

CHAPTER TWO

“WHY DID YOU DO IT?” Brad demanded, working hard to control the anger that seethed beneath his surface calm.

Ed Corbin looked his friend squarely in the eye, took a sip of his beer and swallowed hard. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You damn well did have a choice.”

Brad’s raised voice turned a lot of curious heads in his direction. Ed pulled some bills out of his pocket and slapped them on the bar. “You’re pissed. I don’t blame you. Give me a chance to explain outside, where we don’t have an audience.”

Brad didn’t argue with the need for discretion. The Courage Bay Bar and Grill was the off-duty hangout for the community’s police, fire and medical personnel. Anything overheard here would be on the gossip hotline of every emergency team by morning.

He quietly followed his friend out. A cool night breeze was coming off the ocean, the air filled with one of his favorite scents—the sea. But Brad wasn’t in an appreciative mood.

“Is this why you suddenly came up with the suggestion that I donate sperm last year? So she could get it?”

“No,” Ed said. “When I told you the Crispin Fertility Clinic was willing to pay top dollar for sperm from doctors, I did it because the director asked me to pass the word, and I knew you could use the money. Those were the only reasons. I swear.”

Brad had met Detective Ed Corbin during his first year at Courage Bay Hospital. A burglar cut himself when he’d tried to escape capture by jumping through a plate-glass window. Ed brought him into the E.R. for treatment.

While a nurse was seeing to his wounds, the guy grabbed a knife and took her hostage. Brad had kept the thief’s attention by enticing him with offers of drugs he could sell on the street in exchange for letting the nurse go—giving Ed time to circle behind the man and subdue him.

They’d made a good team that day, and good friends ever since. Brad had never known Ed to lie. He didn’t believe he was doing so now.

“What happened?” Brad asked.

“I stopped by Emily’s place about three months ago and saw all these sperm-bank questionnaires spread out on her table. When I asked her what was going on, she told me she’d decided to have a kid by artificial insemination.”

“You didn’t know before that?”

Ed shook his head. “Nearly blew me away. Never occurred to me she’d do something like that. I tried my best to talk her out of it. But Emily’s unmovable when she’s made up her mind.”

“What possessed you to tell her about me?” Brad asked.

“I figured if she was stupid enough to have some stranger’s kid, she should at least be sure she was getting good sperm. I mean, what would you have done if she were your sister?”

There was a protective note in Ed’s tone Brad had never heard before. They rarely talked about the personal stuff, which was why Brad hadn’t even known the name of Ed’s sister before today. Emily was clearly very special to him.

Brad found his anger at his friend beginning to fade. “I’ve never had a sister.”

“Count your blessings. They’re a damn pain. You love them, and all you want is the best for them. But what happens when you try to help? They tell you to butt out of their business.”

“You should have listened to her this time.”

“I couldn’t. She was going to the wrong place. The Crispin Fertility Clinic is the only one that does a thorough background check on its donors to be sure that they are who they claim. I told Emily about Jill Crispin alerting us when she discovered that a guy using a phony name and profession had applied. He turned out to be an ex-con with two outstanding warrants. That con had gotten away with donating sperm to every other damn clinic around because they never checked up on his lies. Who knows how many more there are like him around?”

“Wasn’t steering her to the right fertility clinic enough?” Brad asked. “Did you have to tell her about me?”

“Yeah, I did. You should have seen the flakes she had to pick from even at Crispin. I read the questionnaires these guys filled out. Eighty percent of them were dumb college jocks, barely literate, just looking for some extra cash. The idea that Emily’s genes would be mixing with theirs made me want to puke.”

“What about the other twenty percent?”

“I suppose some of them were decent, if you could believe what they wrote. The Crispin Clinic is careful that their donors are physically healthy and legally who they say they are. But they have no way of knowing whether these guys are telling the truth when they answer questions about their goals in life and such.”

Brad had to admit that was true. He could have lied about those things when he filled out the forms, and no one would have been the wiser.

“But when I tried to impress this fact on Emily, she turned a deaf ear,” Ed continued. “Kept telling me she’d decide who was best. Said she didn’t need me to make her decisions for her.”

“Then why did she take your recommendation on me?”

“I wasn’t sure she had. She wanted the best and I wanted the best for her, so naturally I told her all about you so she’d know which one of the anonymous donor questionnaires was yours. But the only thing she said was that if she picked your sperm, I was never going to know and neither were you.”

“I know,” Brad said. “She quoted what I entered on that damn questionnaire verbatim. And when I called her on it, she did the one thing she knew would make me back off.”

“What was that?”

“She pretended to be psychic.”

“How could she know that would make you back off?”

“Because I put it on the questionnaire. When asked what was the one thing that would make me avoid otherwise nice and pleasant people, I said it would be if they turned out to be superstitious or believed in all that psychic mumbo jumbo.”

“Brad, I’m sorry about this. She warned me to say nothing to you. I admit I wanted her to select you for her sake, but I never intended for you to find out.”

“I wish to hell I hadn’t,” Brad said on a long exhale. “What does her husband think about all this?”

“Husband? Emily’s not married.”

“But she shows Barrett as her married name. I thought—”

“Oh, she was married. Just not anymore. Hell, she doesn’t even date now.”

Brad stopped walking, grabbed his friend’s arm, halting him in his stride. “Are you telling me your sister is planning to raise the baby without a father?”

“She’ll be a good mother,” Ed said. “I’m not just saying that because she’s my sister. Emily’s wanted a kid for years, but things…didn’t work out for her. She’s thrilled to be having this baby.”

Brad released his friend’s arm and sank to the edge of a nearby concrete street planter, putting his head in his hands. This was getting worse by the minute.

“What’s wrong?”

He raised his eyes at the concern in Ed’s voice. “My brother and I never had a dad. He took off when we were young, and we never saw or heard from him again. I had a great mother. The best. It’s not enough. A kid needs a father. I always swore my kid would have one.”

“Brad, legally, the child Emily’s going to have…it’s not your kid.”

He didn’t need Ed to tell him that. Brad was only too aware that he’d signed away all legal rights to his sperm.

Yes, the money he’d received had helped to pay down his school loans. But the real reason he’d involved himself in the process was because he believed he was doing the right thing helping an infertile couple conceive.

He never imagined that he’d find out who got his sperm. Or that she’d be a single woman.

“What a goddamn mess,” he muttered to the night sky.

Ed plopped down beside him. “If you want to shoot me, I’ll loan you my gun.”

His friend’s expression told Brad how badly he felt—despite the fact that he’d been trying to do the right thing for his sister.

“I’m such a lousy shot, I’d probably miss your ugly mug and hit an innocent bystander instead.”

Ed nodded. “Then you’d have to patch him up, and I’d have to run you in. See your point. Too damn much paperwork.”

They sat for a long moment in silence as cars whizzed by on the street and several pedestrians flashed them curious looks as they passed. Brad was only minimally aware of his surroundings.

He was thinking about how careful he’d been in his relationships with women. Not once had he had unprotected sex. He’d been so sure that something like this was never going to happen to him.

“I have to talk to your sister,” he said finally.

“What are you planning to say?”

“Haven’t a clue. But I have to do something. Now that I know who’s going to have my…the baby and how it’s going to be raised, I can’t just turn my back and pretend it isn’t happening. Could you?”

“No, I guess not,” Ed agreed.

“Do you know if she’s home?”

“She’s out having dinner with friends tonight. Probably won’t be back until late. But you could catch her at the Founders Day Celebration tomorrow. I’m going if you want to ride along with me.”

The Founders Day Celebration was the biggest event of the year—if not the decade—and had been hogging the local headlines for days. Everyone wanted to attend, and from what Brad had heard, if you didn’t have some pretty high-up connections, you couldn’t get in.

“You playing bodyguard to some dignitary?” he asked.

“No, strictly there as Emily’s brother. She’s been putting it together for the past few months so she’s my in.”

Brad was sure he couldn’t have heard right. “Your sister is in charge of the Founders Day Celebration?”

“I take it she didn’t tell you.”

“She told me she was a gardener.”

Ed chuckled. “A psychic and a gardener. Boy, did she have fun with you today. Emily’s the curator of the city’s Botanical Gardens and a member of the Historical Society. She also has a Ph.D. in botany and she’s written a couple of books on medicinal plants.”

“Jeez,” Brad said as his head went back in his hands.

“Yeah, I know. A damn overachiever. Sure put the pressure on me and my brother while we were growing up. Our parents were always so button-popping proud of her. Still are. I planned to push her off a cliff when I got big enough.”

“Can’t imagine what stopped you.”

“It was this annoying habit she had of always making me feel like I was the talented one. No matter what sport I played, she was in the stands cheering for me and threatening the other team’s members with the loss of various body parts if they so much as harmed a hair on my head.”

The scene materialized so clearly in Brad’s mind that it made him wish he’d had such a sister.

“My pass to the ceremonies tomorrow is for two,” Ed said. “You can be my date if you promise not to wear anything too low-cut.”

“I’ll see what I have in my wardrobe,” Brad said dryly. “If you were me, how would you approach her on this?”

“Beats me.”

“Come on. You’ve known her all your life. You must have a feel for what would work?”

“It’s precisely because I have known her all my life that I can assure you nothing will work. Emily’s made up her mind to have this kid alone and raise it by herself. And that’s what she’ll do.”

Brad looked out at the night, hoping for inspiration. But his mind was as hazy and blank as the starless sky.

Ed grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him to his feet. “Come on. We’re going back to the bar and tie one on.”

“You think getting drunk is going to help?”

“I sure hope so. Tomorrow, I have tickets to the hottest event of the year and look who I’m taking.”

THE TEMPERATURE WAS IN the seventies, the air a fragrant kiss across Emily’s cheek. In the distance, the Pacific Ocean whispered against white sands. To the north, south and east, the steep mountains circled into a soft blue sky. The gardens all around her were ablaze with sunlight and the beauty of growing things.

“You even arranged for us to have perfect weather,” Dorothy said near her ear. “I am impressed.”

Emily sent her friend a smile.

The Botanical Gardens were filled with the by-invitation-only spectators. Chief of police Max Zirinsky was among them and so were a lot of his plainclothes officers, unobtrusively milling about and keeping a watchful eye.