Читать онлайн книгу «The Surprise Triplets» автора Jacqueline Diamond

The Surprise Triplets
The Surprise Triplets
The Surprise Triplets
Jacqueline Diamond
TRIPLE THE TROUBLEWhen fertility counselor Melissa Everhart decided to have a baby on her own, she didn't anticipate triplets… or her ex-husband's return to Safe Harbor. Three years ago, Edmond's reluctance to have children tore them apart. But now that he's been made guardian of his niece, Melissa witnesses how tenderly he cares for the little girl. Though Edmond doesn't believe he's father material, his sudden custody of Dawn leaves him little choice. He turns to Melissa, the warmest, kindest person he knows, for help. They begin to rediscover the love they once shared, but the betrayals of the past trouble them both. Can they find the forgiveness they both need to come together as a family?


Triple The Trouble
When fertility counselor Melissa Everhart decided to have a baby on her own, she didn’t anticipate triplets…or her ex-husband’s return to Safe Harbor. Three years ago, Edmond’s reluctance to have children tore them apart. But now that he’s been made guardian of his niece, Melissa witnesses how tenderly he cares for the little girl.
Though Edmond doesn’t believe he’s father material, his sudden custody of Dawn leaves him little choice. He turns to Melissa, the warmest, kindest person he knows, for help. They begin to rediscover the love they once shared, but the betrayals of the past trouble them both. Can they find the forgiveness they both need to come together as a family?
“After you’re in the house, I’m sure there’ll be additional shopping,” Melissa advised.
“For what?” Edmond asked.
“Curtains, for one thing. As I recall, the blinds in that house provide privacy but they aren’t decorative.”
“Oh, right.” While he’d considered the cost of child care, he hadn’t factored in yard care. “And a cleaning service, too. Any recommendations?”
“We clean our own house, so I’m not sure. Just ask at work. You’ll be inundated with suggestions.” She was grinning widely.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re usually on top of every situation.” She slipped her pad into a pocket. “It’s refreshing to see you out of your element.”
“Refreshing?” That wasn’t the word Edmond would have chosen. “Awkward, maybe. Embarrassing.”
“No, it’s cute.” She’d never called him that before. “Human.”
“As opposed to my usual robotic self?” he asked.
“In a sense,” she teased. “It’s fun to watch the ice melt.”
He traced her temple with his thumb. “Only with you.” Her radiance drew him in, drew him close. He tilted his head, longing for her, but holding back.
And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she looped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him....
Dear Reader (#ulink_1bdaf143-bed2-58d2-9879-2a759bdd6da3),
Welcome to Safe Harbor, and please don’t worry if you haven’t read all—or any—of the previous books, because each stands alone. Each also presents unique challenges to me as a writer.
When I sketched the storyline for this book, I had no idea how much research the writing would entail. Some of it was already in my files, such as background on embryo transfers and multiple pregnancies. And I had some experience in court matters, having helped cover several trials for the Associated Press and having served on a jury.
However, I soon realized I needed to understand the special needs of children whose parents are sent to prison; how to arrange for such a child’s guardianship so she doesn’t end up in the foster care system, and how the sentencing would unfold in a courtroom.
I’m grateful for the internet, a gold mine of information. When the internet doesn’t suffice, however, I seek out experts to interview. Luckily, I have a friend who’s a Superior Court judge and who explained to me what goes on when a sentence is handed down, as in the case of Edmond’s sister.
My goal is to weave in the background so smoothly that it supports rather than interferes with the emotions of the story. I hope I’ve succeeded. Happy reading!
Best,
Jacqueline Diamond
The Surprise Triplets
Jacqueline Diamond

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#ulink_28e3a2bd-9624-5059-8033-9824028a1194)
Medical themes feature prominently among JACQUELINE DIAMOND’S more than 95 published novels, especially her Safe Harbor Medical miniseries for Mills & Boon American Romance. Delivered at home by her physician father—the only doctor in their small Texas town—Jackie moved with her parents and brother to Louisville, Kentucky, and later Nashville, Tennessee. She developed an interest in fertility issues after successfully undergoing treatment to have her two sons, now in their twenties. Her books include Regency romances, romantic intrigues, romantic comedies and mysteries. A former Associated Press reporter and columnist, she lives with her husband of thirty-five years in Orange County, California, where she’s active in Romance Writers of America. You can see an overview of the Safe Harbor Medical miniseries at www.jacquelinediamond.com (http://www.jacquelinediamond.com) and say hello to Jackie at her Facebook page, JacquelineDiamondAuthor (https://www.facebook.com/JacquelineDiamondAuthor).
For Kevin and Renée Brown, two very special friends
Contents
Cover (#u2f8489b6-da4c-50e3-86ad-c2c899f689e6)
Back Cover Text (#u928d5589-7c6a-52db-b454-eb0f1c5c4d1e)
Introduction (#u411012c9-24e3-51b8-98dd-b03d864b294d)
Dear Reader (#u1ea60b9a-2b37-5247-afaa-602849c55d5c)
Title Page (#ubc2c63dc-6b77-5698-807a-e9d30413a4ca)
About the Author (#uaaac49c6-8a15-5e0b-9c29-4970f8f54ccc)
Dedication (#uf6933c85-cffd-5fb0-9873-a18fd5b16904)
Chapter One (#ucbe1c27f-0625-5fd8-b487-4b8c9ff61b40)
Chapter Two (#u3ebb3395-81ef-55b2-b284-e0afb45cb9b2)
Chapter Three (#u33c88521-bed2-5ebd-8688-e6ae9594f842)
Chapter Four (#u0873ab40-68af-5b5e-a206-fd7b87235956)
Chapter Five (#uc3549e63-e3fa-53a3-842f-e434c48176cb)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_4a545982-ba03-5c3c-a9ae-4b4170e9d3ce)
The man and woman sitting in front of Melissa Everhart’s desk held hands as if about to jump off a cliff together. In a sense, that was what they were doing.
Be careful what you wish for, she wanted to caution them. But in her role as Safe Harbor Medical Center’s in vitro fertilization and egg donor coordinator, she was already providing them with full information. Any further warning would be an unprofessional insertion of her personal concerns.
“Most people who hire a surrogate and can’t provide their own eggs prefer to use a separate egg donor,” she was explaining.
“Why bring in a third party?” The woman, Bev Landry, an accountant in her early forties, projected a professional image in her tailored gray suit with a rose-colored silk blouse. Only the clenched hands in her lap betrayed her nervousness as she and her husband embarked on an expensive and by-no-means-guaranteed quest to have a child via surrogacy. An ovarian cancer survivor, she had tried to adopt without success.
Bev longed for a baby with all her heart. Melissa understood that yearning because she’d shared it.
“I’m not a lawyer, but I can tell you that while surrogates—or gestational carriers, as they’re termed—sign away their rights to the baby, it’s still safer legally and emotionally if there’s no genetic link,” Melissa informed her.
“That brings up the issue of legalities...” Bev’s husband, Mick, a rough-hewn building contractor, leaned forward aggressively. It was, Melissa judged, merely his way of taking control of a scary situation. “What protection do we have when we commission—if that’s the right word—a child?”
“We’re fortunate that California leads the world in safeguarding your rights,” she said. “I have several documents here on the subject, including new laws and court decisions favoring the designated parents.”
Mick glanced at the documents she handed him, then set them aside for later. “Thanks. And I’ll be the biological father, after all.”
“That’s right. Now let’s talk about how you would select your egg donor and your surrogate.” Although the hospital’s brochures covered all aspects of its fertility program, the information could be overwhelming. It was Melissa’s job to steer clients through the process.
If she deemed it advisable, she could also refer them to the hospital’s psychologist. And, starting today, she could offer them a free session with the hospital’s new consulting family attorney. Who just happened to be her ex-husband.
Her throat tightened. A year ago, without explanation, her ex-husband Edmond had given up a high-paying position in Los Angeles to join a tiny law firm here in Safe Harbor. Then, a month or so ago, he’d applied for a consulting job at the hospital. Despite her reservations, when the administrator had asked Melissa whether bringing Edmond on board in a part-time position would pose problems for her, she’d said no.
His new job meant they might occasionally have to work together, but since their divorce three years ago, they’d remained on civil terms. She respected Edmond’s abilities and had always found him easy to confer with.
Except on one issue. Edmond had vehemently opposed having children. Initially, Melissa hadn’t wanted them, either, but she’d changed her mind during their five-year marriage. As her thirtieth birthday approached, her longing for little ones to love had intensified to the point that she could no longer ignore it.
Hesitantly, she’d brought up with her husband the possibility of having kids. Edmond hadn’t taken it well, and to her shock, he’d then gone out and had a vasectomy without consulting her. Stunned by this high-handed maneuver and devastated that he thought so little of her needs, Melissa had left him.
The man she’d believed was her true love had turned out to be fatally flawed. Unfortunately, her post-divorce attempts at finding another Mr. Right had led nowhere.
Now she was going it alone, she reflected as her hand drifted to her abdomen, where it felt as if she had a watermelon strapped to her midsection. No telling how Edmond would react when he saw her condition. But then, he’d made his choice, and she’d made hers.
She trained her attention on the computer screen and angled it toward the Landrys. “We provide photographs and profiles of our surrogates, as we do with egg donors in a separate registry. You’ll have your own code to sign onto our secure website from home....” As Melissa spoke, she heard a flurry of noises outside the closed door. Hers was one of four offices opening off the fertility support program’s reception area on the hospital’s ground floor. Judging by the scuff of footsteps and the warm tones of her colleagues, she guessed that the hospital administrator was introducing the new consultant.
Then a deep, familiar voice rumbled through her. Melissa’s skin prickled. Edmond. If only she wasn’t still so sensitized to his nearness. Maybe agreeing for him to join the staff had been a mistake. Too late to change her mind now.
“Oh, my goodness!” Bev tugged an ultrasound photo from beneath a few papers on the desk. “Is that twins? No, there’s a third one. Triplets! Incredible.”
Her husband craned his neck to study the image. “Somebody hit the jackpot.”
Melissa’s cheeks heated. “I shouldn’t have left that in view.”
“I’m sorry.” Bev set down the image. “I didn’t mean to invade anyone’s privacy. That woman is so lucky!”
Is she? “Actually, it’s me.”
Bev’s mouth flew open. “Seriously? I noticed you were pregnant but I had no idea it was triplets. How far along are you?”
“Four months down, five to go.” According to Melissa’s obstetrician, multiple births usually resulted in early deliveries, but she was trying to think positively.
“Your husband must be excited,” Mick said.
Melissa tilted her head in a half nod and hoped he wouldn’t notice her failure to respond further. “Do you have questions about what we’ve discussed so far?”
“Once we’ve chosen the surrogate, how many fertilized eggs would be implanted?” Mick said. “I mean, assuming more than one is usable.”
“That can be a difficult decision,” she told him. “Multiple pregnancies are risky. On the other hand, only implanting one embryo lowers the odds of success. In the U.K. and Australia, doctors are limited by law to transferring a maximum of two embryos.”
He scowled. “Are there any restrictions in California?”
“No.” Trying to ignore the increasingly loud chatter from the outer office, she said, “However, our doctors limit themselves to implanting a maximum of three embryos, for medical and ethical reasons.”
“But the embryos won’t all attach, right?” Bev asked.
“Not usually.” She certainly hadn’t expected them to. “Twins or singletons are much more common than triplets.”
From the outer office came the squeal of the high-spirited receptionist, Caroline Carter. “I had no idea you were Melissa’s ex-husband!”
Melissa winced.
Edmond replied in a low tone, something about “good terms.” All the same, Melissa’s face was flaming. “Sorry for the disturbance,” she said to the Landrys.
“No need to apologize,” said Mick. “We’re the ones who changed our appointment at the last minute.” They’d been scheduled to meet with her in the afternoon.
“It didn’t occur to me that this might overlap. We have a new legal consultant at the hospital.” At a tap on the door, Melissa started to rise. When her abdominal muscles protested, she put a hand on the desktop for support.
“Please don’t exert yourself. I’ll get it.” Uncoiling from his chair, Mick crossed the floor. Since he was closer, she yielded without protest.
Melissa braced for this encounter with Edmond. They’d run into each other occasionally since he’d arrived in town and they’d exchanged polite how-are-yous. He’d represented one of her housemates in a divorce, and another, briefly, on a custody issue. She’d assured her friends that he was an excellent attorney, which was true. But this was her home territory.
Just say hello and it’ll be over. For now. And if she remained seated, she might be able to save her startling news until they were alone.
Mick opened the door. “Don’t mind me. I’m the butler,” he joked to the imposing administrator, Dr. Mark Rayburn, a large man with black hair and power eyebrows.
“Pardon the interruption,” Mark said. “We have a new attorney on staff and today’s his first chance to meet everybody. We’ll just be a sec.”
“No problem.” Extending his hand, Mick introduced himself and his wife.
The slim, strong man Melissa had once loved moved past Mark, and cool brown eyes met hers from behind steel-framed glasses. It was lucky that her clients were comfortable chatting with the newcomers, because her voice got stuck in her throat.
As always, her ex-husband was impeccably groomed—even in July, he wore a jacket and tie. Being in the same room made her keenly aware of his light, spicy scent and the breadth of his chest.
And it also made her aware of how much she missed curling against him at night, missed talking over the day’s events and missed his logical insights. Once, she could have tracked his reactions to people and events as easily as her own. It was disorienting, to have no idea what he was thinking right now.
What was wrong with her? It must be the emotional effect of maternal hormones. She’d long ago resolved any lingering sense that she belonged with this man.
“Good to see you, Melissa.” He sounded slightly hoarse.
“You, too,” she managed. She ought to rise, but if she did...
At Mark’s subtle prompting, Edmond greeted the Landrys and handed them his business card. “If you have any legal questions, I’d be happy to schedule a free consultation here at the hospital. I have office hours Monday mornings and Thursday afternoons.”
“Maybe later,” Mick said. “We’re still in the early stages.”
The administrator indicated they should move on. Just when Melissa figured the encounter was over, Edmond swung toward her. “Okay if I stop by in a few minutes? There are a few matters we should discuss.”
“Certainly.” All very professional, although everybody in the office—plus the cheerily nosy receptionist lingering outside the door—must be aware of the undercurrents.
When he held out his hand, there was no avoiding it. Melissa stood up, big belly and all.
Edmond’s jaw dropped and his body went rigid. His double take might almost have been comical, had she not felt his shock so keenly. Melissa had prepared herself for his disapproval or anger, or perhaps indifference. To her surprise, she caught a glint of pain.
His gaze went to her left hand, to her ringless third finger. But he could hardly draw conclusions from that. Pregnant women often removed their wedding rings to accommodate puffiness.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll talk to you later, then. Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Landry.”
As Mark ushered Edmond out, he regarded Melissa with concern. He didn’t miss much, she reflected, and she smiled in an attempt to reassure him.
With a nod, the big man closed the door. She hadn’t fooled him. She wasn’t fooling anybody these days, except maybe herself. Oh, quit overthinking this.
The Landrys resumed their seats and Melissa did the same. Returning to their discussion, she said, “You might try listing the qualities that are most important to you in an egg donor and a surrogate. That will guide your choices.”
Her suggestion had the desired effect of pushing the interruption from their minds. When the clients departed a quarter of an hour later, Melissa had recovered her equilibrium.
She reached for her cup of tea, to find it empty. Although an hour remained until lunch, she was starving, and she’d already finished off the crackers in her desk. These days, she found herself eating more than enough for four. Her doctor insisted her weight gain was healthy, but Melissa had trouble adjusting to her rotund body shape. At five-foot-eight, she’d always been tall and slender.
Well, she was still tall.
The slightly open door swung wider, and she forgot to breathe. Then she saw with relief that her visitor wasn’t Edmond.
Karen Wiggins, the fertility program’s financial counselor and occupant of the adjacent office, handed her a cup of white liquid. “It’s almond milk—fifty percent more calcium than cow’s milk.”
“Thanks, Mom,” Melissa teased. Ten years her senior, Karen was a nurturing friend as well as her landlady.
“How’d it go with the ex?” Karen lingered near the desk. This month, she’d dyed her shoulder-length hair reddish-brown, which Melissa preferred to some of her friend’s more flamboyant choices.
“Smoothly. Oddly. I don’t know.” Staying alert for approaching footsteps, Melissa added, “He’ll be back any minute.”
“I’ll talk fast. Did you pay attention to the guest list for Saturday?”
“No. Should I?” Melissa and three other coworkers rented rooms in Karen’s large home. This weekend, one of their group, nurse Anya Meeks, was getting married there. “As long as we have enough food, who cares?”
“You don’t mind that Edmond’s invited?”
That was a less-than-welcome surprise. “I had no idea. I wasn’t aware he knew Anya and Jack that well.”
Karen shrugged. “Anya posted on her wedding website that he’d brought them together. You’ll recall she hired him to arrange for Jack to waive his paternal rights after she found out she was pregnant. That set off a whole chain of events leading to...” She hummed a few bars of “Here Comes the Bride.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Several months ago, Anya had asked about a lawyer to help her explore giving up her baby for adoption and Melissa had recommended Edmond. “That hardly qualifies him as Cupid.” She sipped the milky liquid, enjoying its slight vanilla flavor.
“She led me to believe she’d already told Jack about the pregnancy.” Edmond peered through the doorway, his brown eyes alight with amusement at slipping into the discussion. “I dropped off what I assumed was routine paperwork to Jack and—bam! Fireworks.”
Despite an instinctive tensing at his appearance, Melissa had to smile at the image of her normally unflappable ex-husband facing Jack’s outrage. “You smoothed things over.”
“Not entirely. It was among the more awkward moments of my career,” Edmond said. “But all’s well that ends well.”
“And you’re coming to my house on Saturday?” Karen asked.
He gave a start. “The wedding’s at your house?”
“The address is on the invitation,” Karen pointed out.
“I didn’t check where it was. I figured I’d GPS it.” A puzzled line formed between Edmond’s dark eyebrows. “By the way, why did the invitation come with nose clips?”
Both women laughed. “You’ll find out,” Karen said.
Aware that Edmond disliked being kept in the dark, Melissa explained, “The house is next to an estuary. The smell of decomposing vegetation and fish can get a little ripe.”
“Dare I hope the wedding’s indoors?” he asked. “Nose clips don’t work too well with glasses.”
“It is,” she assured him.
“Glad to hear it.”
Karen scooped up Melissa’s empty mug. “Later, guys.”
Then she left them alone.
Chapter Two (#ulink_762f6524-084c-5de8-b9a2-bd4514c05290)
Edmond’s ethics had prevented him from questioning fellow staffers about his ex-wife’s pregnancy. Now that they were in private, though, it took all his resolve not to blurt the questions bedeviling him.
How frustrating that her condition made her glow even more than usual. That was saying a lot. The first time he’d seen Melissa, sitting with her friends at a UCLA campus coffee shop, light through a leaded glass window had bathed her in gold. Now, at the memory, her radiance hit him doubly hard.
They’d been a couple from the moment they met. He’d opened up to her, and she to him, or so he’d believed. They’d agreed that their marriage, their intimacy and their commitment would always be the center of their lives.
He’d been frank about the fact that fatherhood, on top of his demanding profession, would bring too many pressures. Edmond did nothing halfway, and he understood how important a father was to his children—a loving, devoted father, not a man who had them just because others expected him to. He’d taken on family responsibilities too young, filling in with his younger sister for an often-absent father and an emotionally withdrawn mother. And had done a poor job with her, as things turned out.
His wife’s announcement after five years of marriage that she wanted children had come out of nowhere. No warning, no hints before then that she’d changed her mind. Astonished and angry, he’d reacted strongly. Perhaps too strongly, but surely they could have saved their marriage if she was open to it. Instead, she’d walked out and cut off all communication about everything except divorce.
Despite his resentment, their deep connection had lingered in Edmond’s thoughts through the years. Although her presence in Safe Harbor hadn’t been his only reason for moving here, he’d looked forward to reconnecting, at least on a friendship basis. A friendship that might, in time, have grown.
No chance of that now. Not that Edmond begrudged her happiness. “Pregnancy suits you.”
Melissa’s eyes widened in surprise. “Nice of you to say so.”
“I never pay idle compliments.”
“I’m aware of that.” She waved him into a chair in front of her desk. A handful of brochures and papers were stacked more or less neatly on its polished wooden surface.
“Thank you for consenting to me being hired.” He’d been pleased to learn from Dr. Rayburn that she’d raised no objection.
“You’ll do a good job.” Her tapered fingers started to drum the desk, then stopped. “Why do you wish to be a consultant here?”
Noting her tension, he wondered at it. If she’d fallen in love with someone new, surely she’d be indifferent to him. Also, if she loved the father of her child, why was she sharing a house with friends?
“I applied for the post for financial and professional reasons,” he answered. “Until I arrived at Geoff Humphreys and Associates, the ‘associates’ consisted of a legal secretary and a receptionist. I’m slowly building a clientele, but it’s going to take a while.” He decided against mentioning that he’d also been attracted to the hospital opening because she was on staff.
“Why did you leave L.A.?” she asked. “I’m sure it paid better.” He’d earned a hefty salary, plus bonuses.
“It was cutthroat.” The partners at his old firm had encouraged associates to go for the jugular. The more Edmond saw of vicious divorces and custody battles, the less he appreciated that approach to family law.
Despite their pain, he and Melissa had behaved like rational adults during the divorce. That experience had been part of the reason he’d switched his focus to collaborative law and joined a smaller firm.
There’d been other reasons, as well. He’d sought to reduce his hours so he could help his parents and sister, who’d had a rough year. Then, after meeting Geoff and finding that their views dovetailed, he’d leaped at the chance to move to Safe Harbor. And possibly, to start over with Melissa.
Until today, he hadn’t admitted to himself how much he’d hoped she’d let go of her desire to have children. Once, she’d valued being with him above everything else, and as the years passed and she hadn’t remarried, he’d wondered if she might be experiencing some regret.
Obviously, he’d been wrong. Regardless of who the father was, she’d made an irreversible commitment to the child inside her. This pregnancy meant he’d truly lost her.
“So the short version is, you took the hospital consulting job because you need the business,” Melissa summarized.
“Harsh but accurate,” Edmond conceded. “Also, the legal aspects of new medical technologies present an interesting challenge.”
She crossed her arms. “I don’t view my clients’ legal concerns as an ‘interesting challenge.’ They’re individuals facing real-life issues.” Judging by her tone, he gathered that he’d irritated her.
“Of course they’re individuals, but when they consult a lawyer, they deserve objective advice more than hand-holding.” Rather than continue in this vein, Edmond added, “My job description also includes educating the staff on family law topics, such as changes regarding adoptions and surrogacy.”
“I presume Tony is on board with this.”
“He’s the one who requested they hire a consultant.” Tony Franco, the hospital’s regular attorney, had his hands full dealing with liability and malpractice matters, as well as refining policies on patient privacy, patient rights and the in vitro program. “Geoff introduced us on the golf course a few months ago. He suggested I apply for the opening.”
“Congratulations.” Melissa stopped there. Whatever she was thinking, she guarded it well. He used to consider her an open book, but then again, if that had been true, he’d have had some idea of how radically she’d altered her opinion of parenthood.
After a brief silence, he said, “Let’s discuss how I can assist you with fertility patients. You’re on the front lines, I understand.”
“Fine. Later.”
“Why not now?” He wasn’t ready to cut short this meeting, not until he had a clearer picture of where she stood. How she felt. Who the damn father was.
Instead of a direct answer, she blurted, “Don’t go to the wedding.”
So that’s what’s on her mind. Edmond struggled to catch this conversational curve ball. “I already RSVP’d.”
“It isn’t set in concrete.” A cord of tension stood out in her slender neck. “You’re only attending to expand your contacts in the community, right?”
Not entirely. “There are personal as well as professional reasons. I had no idea it was at your house.” Why did this bother her? She’d agreed to work with him.
“It’s an informal event,” Melissa said. “One person more or less won’t affect anything. It’s not as if Jack and Anya will be stuck paying a caterer for an uneaten meal.”
Edmond had a tight schedule on Saturday, and skipping the afternoon event might ease things. But in view of his new consulting job, her friends were now his coworkers. Breaking his promise to attend would be rude. And he didn’t understand her reluctance.
Was she trying to hide the circumstances of her pregnancy? Surely she didn’t expect to keep him in the dark for long. Had she broken up with the father? Or was the prospect of introducing him to her ex-husband uncomfortable?
Edmond half hoped the guy was a bum with body odor. Maybe that’s the real reason for the nose clips. At the ridiculous notion, he smiled.
“You find this funny?” she asked.
“I was just...” He shook off his reflections. “We live in the same community.”
“Your choice, not mine.” Her low tone bordered on a growl.
“You gave your permission,” he reminded her.
“Not for you to relocate to Safe Harbor, only for this job. I’ve never been vindictive.”
“That’s true.”
“Then do me a favor and...” Halting, she paled, and sucked in several quick breaths.
“Are you okay?” Edmond leaned across the desk. “Shall I call someone?”
“What I need is tea.”
“I’ll get it.”
“Never mind.”
This was ridiculous. “We aren’t enemies,” he said. “Melissa, tell me what I can do.”
“I don’t want your help.” Were those tears in her eyes? “And it’s just a touch of morning sickness. Gone already.”
Perhaps, yet her distress troubled him. “You’re sure?”
“Yes. And if I change my mind about the tea, I’ll ask Caroline.”
Damn, she was hardheaded. “Surely we can find common ground and give each other a break,” he said. “I’ve been dealing with family matters...I could use your insights. And in your situation, you shouldn’t be too quick to reject an offer of friendship.”
He’d phrased that badly, he saw when her chin lifted defiantly. “I have plenty of friends. What do you mean by ‘my situation,’ anyway?”
“You haven’t mentioned the father.” Oh, hell, he was making matters worse. “Not that it’s any of my business.”
“There is no father.”
She hadn’t fallen in love with another man. That discovery brought some comfort, but Edmond also found it disturbing. How desperately she must want a child to undergo insemination by an anonymous donor.
She was awaiting a reaction to her statement. If she expected reassurances, he had to disappoint her. “Is that fair to the child? Fathers matter.”
“I have guy friends,” she told him. “Guys who think kids are precious.”
“Friends aren’t family.” Nor did she have any other family, unfortunately. Her parents had died years ago, and her younger brother had drowned as a toddler.
“Lots of women raise children alone,” Melissa flared.
Edmond was glad the color had returned to her cheeks, even though it was an angry red. “In any case, nothing I say matters. Your baby is your priority now.”
“That’s right.”
They’d reached an impasse, and the end of this conversation. Edmond didn’t offer to shake hands, which might force her to rise. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”
“You’re determined to attend the wedding?” she asked tightly.
“As I said, I already accepted.” If she could be stubborn, so could he. On the spur of the moment, he added, “I’ll be bringing a plus one, by the way.”
“Suit yourself.” She faced her computer, dismissing him.
In the outer office, Edmond paused at Caroline Carter’s desk. An attractive young woman with a smooth dark complexion and a romance novel partly visible on her lap, she regarded him brightly. “Yes, Mr. Everhart?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, my... Melissa could use some tea. Her stomach’s bothering her,” he said.
“I’m on it,” she responded. “And welcome to Safe Harbor.”
“Glad to be here.” He exited into the main-floor hallway, where he was engulfed by the chatter and bustle of personnel heading for the cafeteria. Despite the flat lighting and the smell of antiseptic, he liked this place. The air hummed with the enthusiasm of people dedicated to their work.
It had been a rocky meeting with his ex-wife. But they’d accomplished an important task: clarifying that they stood as far apart as ever.
* * *
EVERY MINUTE CLOSER to lunch, Melissa felt nearer to starvation, and today’s cafeteria special had been posted as chicken enchiladas with guacamole, a favorite of hers. Nevertheless, her friends would spot her frayed emotional state the moment she sat at their table, and she wasn’t ready to field questions.
Why was Edmond so stubborn about the wedding? And why had she overreacted? She hadn’t intended to demand that he skip it.
When he’d observed that pregnancy suited her, a wall inside her had started to crumble, and his strong presence had reawakened a longing to lean on him. What an absurd idea, and yet he’d been her rock after her parents’ sudden deaths in an accident, and she needed someone to talk to right now.
But when he’d pushed her away, it stung, revealing a vulnerability Melissa had believed long vanquished. How could she still have feelings for the man who’d broken her heart?
Considering his dismissive attitude toward fatherhood, he had a lot of nerve, criticizing her decision. Is that fair to the child? Fathers matter. As if she hadn’t taken that into consideration.
In fact, she’d been reluctant to undergo artificial insemination. Melissa had questioned how she would explain to a child later that its father had no involvement, indeed no awareness of its existence.
Then a couple of in vitro clients to whom she’d grown close had faced a dilemma. After bearing healthy triplets, they’d been left with three unused embryos. Due to a difficult pregnancy and with three children to raise, they’d decided against another pregnancy. Instead, they’d resolved to donate the embryos.
Recalling an earlier conversation with Melissa, they’d offered the little ones to her. With her, they’d insisted, they wouldn’t worry because they had confidence she’d be a wonderful mother. But they’d also been in a rush to settle the matter and told her if she didn’t seize the chance immediately, they’d select another recipient.
Her physician, Dr. Zack Sargent, had noted the potential physical complications of a multiple pregnancy but, in view of her general good health, he’d given his approval. When she’d solicited the opinions of her housemates and a few dinner guests, Anya’s fiancé, obstetrician Jack Ryder, had said that frozen embryo transfers at Safe Harbor had about a fifty percent success rate. That statistic reinforced Melissa’s assumption that at most she’d bear twins.
She’d also received enthusiastic support from Karen. Divorced and in her early forties, her friend had no plans for children of her own but loved being around babies. Another housemate, male nurse Lucky Mendez, had advised Melissa to follow her heart instead of obsessing about everything that could go wrong. Only ultrasound technician Zora Raditch had been dubious, but then, Zora had accidentally become pregnant with twins after having breakup sex with her faithless ex-husband, so her opinion of men and maternity was understandably jaundiced.
It had felt like fate. Then all three embryos had taken. And now here I am, hurting because the man I used to love won’t accept me the way I am. What a waste of energy.
Annoyed at her weakness, she picked up the phone and put in a call to Rose’s Posies. As her wedding gift to Jack and Anya, she was providing the bouquets for the bride and for two flower girls, as well as for one of Anya’s sisters, who was flying in from Colorado to serve as maid of honor.
The shop owner, Rose Nguyen, answered on the fourth ring. “I’ll go check to be sure my daughter has all in order,” she said after Melissa explained she was calling to confirm the arrangements. “Hold for Violet, okay?”
“Thanks.” Melissa smiled at the name of Rose’s daughter. Like her mother’s, it was sweetly appropriate.
She stretched her legs, slipped off her pumps and rested her swollen feet on a stool beneath the desk while making a mental note to buy larger shoes. Preferably before Saturday, to go with the flowing silk caftan she’d found at the Gently Used & Useful thrift shop.
Heat flooded her at the realization that, flattering as the lavender print dress might be, it emphasized her girth. She’d been rather proud of that until Edmond mentioned bringing a date.
Who was it? The legal secretary or the receptionist from his office, a friend from L.A., or a new acquaintance? She’d probably be pretty, smart and slim.
Melissa shook her head at her insecurities. Take Lucky’s advice. Stop obsessing.
On the other end of the line, someone picked up. “Ms. Everhart?” It was Violet. “Let me review the order with you to be sure we have everything as you requested.”
“Good idea.”
A few minutes later, as they finished talking, Melissa’s stomach quivered. No, that wasn’t her stomach. She clamped her hand to her abdomen. The babies were moving. Although they’d been visibly active during a recent ultrasound, she hadn’t been able to feel them.
Her tests had revealed three girls, but until now they’d remained figures on a screen. This fluttery sensation filled her with wonder. My daughters are playing.
Picking up the sonogram picture, she studied the tiny people until tears blurred her vision. They were helpless, utterly dependent on their lone parent. Sometimes the reality of her pregnancy and her future as a single mom to triplets was overwhelming, but she could do it.
Everyone believed in her ability to love and raise them—her friends, her coworkers and Nell and Vernon Grant, the couple who’d donated the embryos. Everyone except Edmond. Well, he was wrong, just as he’d been wrong three years ago.
As for how she’d compare on Saturday to whoever he was bringing to the wedding, why should she care? They’d spent five happy years together but, ultimately, he’d been the wrong man for her.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to stop by The Baby Bump on her way home. Perhaps the shop carried something more flattering than the billowy lavender dress.
Chapter Three (#ulink_d716526b-d888-578f-b9e4-03160156f4dc)
A white satin bow and a bouquet of red, white and blue balloons adorned the mailbox in front of the two-story house. Edmond didn’t have to check the address as he wedged his black sedan into a space by the curb. Even had the decorations not identified this as the wedding site, it was the only residence along this stretch of Pelican Lane, bordering the salt marsh and ending half a block away at the Pacific Ocean. If there’d been other homes here in the past, they must have been bought up and removed to restore the estuary.
“Is this it?” His wedding date, her green eyes filled with uncertainty, regarded the rolling lawn and long gravel driveway packed with vehicles.
“We’re here,” he confirmed. As she unstrapped the belt that she’d carefully positioned to avoid wrinkling her party dress, Edmond reached for his door handle. The ground was soft, and he’d prefer to carry her rather than risk dirtying her sparkly shoes.
Although he’d been warned, he hadn’t been prepared for the pungent smell that struck his nostrils the instant he stepped out. His date noticed, too, of course. As he swung her from her seat and around to the roadway, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Pee-yoo.”
“Want to borrow those nose clips?” He’d shown them to her earlier.
She gave him a gap-toothed smile. “That might leave red marks, Uncle Eddie.”
“We can’t have that!”
“A fairy princess has to look perfect,” she agreed.
“And so you do.” Taking her hand, he led seven-year-old Dawn along the street bordering the yard. There was no sidewalk.
Behind the house and on either side stretched marshy land that, he’d read on the city’s website, provided refuge for hundreds of bird species as well as wildlife from rabbits to coyotes. As for vegetation and terrain, the site had mentioned pickleweed, cattails, mudflats and tidal sloughs. No wonder the place stank.
Yet Geoff Humphreys’s wife, Paula, a second-grade teacher, had declared the estuary far more interesting than the sailboat-filled marina that gave Safe Harbor its name, or the enticing stretch of sandy beach on the west side of town. Edmond supposed that the educator had a valid perspective, but he was far from impressed. The house itself appeared inviting, though, with a wide front porch and clean white paint trimmed in blue.
As he rang the bell, his niece pressed against his side. Dawn had become shy this past year, which was understandable in view of the turmoil in her family. With matters still unsettled, Edmond was doing his best to keep her spirits up.
The door flew open. Two girlish faces, both topped by curly red hair, peered out eagerly. “Hi!” declared the taller one, whom he guessed to be about twelve. “I’m Tiffany, Jack’s niece. Well, he’s our cousin really, but he’s more like an uncle.”
“I’m Amber,” said the younger one, who wore a matching blue dress with red-and-white trim.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Edmond Everhart and this is Dawn.” He saw no reason to explain further.
As they entered the house, Dawn indicated circlets of blue-and-white blossoms atop the girls’ heads. “What pretty flowers!”
“We’re the flower girls,” Amber said. “See, we match!” She pointed to the blossoms festooning the banister of the nearby staircase.
Tiffany regarded Edmond speculatively. “Everhart. Are you related to Melissa?”
“Yes. Is she around?” He’d rather not provide details of his marital situation.
“She’s in the kitchen.”
“But the wedding’s that way.” Amber pointed to their right.
“Thank you both.” Amused by the unconventional welcome, Edmond escorted Dawn into the high-ceilinged living room.
Curio cabinets dominated the far wall, with a striped sofa positioned beneath the front windows, no doubt shifted to provide space in the center. Several dozen chairs, half of them already filled, faced a slightly elevated dining room at the rear. Its table had been moved to accommodate a flower-covered arch, while a boom box in one corner played an instrumental version of “We’ve Only Just Begun.”
Edmond recognized some of the guests as hospital staff. In his law practice, he’d learned to quickly commit names and faces to memory, and he was trying to place as many as possible when a small hand tugged his sleeve. “What’s up, tiger?” he asked.
“Let’s go see Aunt Lissa.” Dawn peered across the room. “That girl said she was in the kitchen.”
“It would be rude to barge through the house.” Immediately regretting his phrasing, Edmond added, “I’m sure she’ll join us later. We can talk to her then.”
“I want to see her now.” The girl’s lower lip quivered. “I miss Aunt Lissa.”
“How well do you remember her?” Dawn had been only four when they divorced. Edmond’s sister Barbara had mentioned that Melissa had sent a birthday present for her daughter the following year, but Barb’s life was chaotic, with many changes of both physical and email addresses. To the best of his knowledge, the two women hadn’t stayed in touch.
“She used to read to me. Why did she leave?” Dawn glared up at him accusingly, as if it was his fault she’d lost one of her small circle of loved ones. Well, perhaps it was, in part.
“We divorced, but I’m sure she’s missed you, too. I suppose we could take a peek.” Melissa had emphasized the informality of the occasion.
“Yay!” Dawn gave a little hop, brown curls bouncing. Her Grandma Isabel, Edmond’s stepmother, had done a fine job of styling the child’s hair—not only for the wedding but also for an earlier, less pleasant outing this morning.
They were saved the need to intrude past the wedding bower when Melissa, blond hair shining above a pink dress, emerged into the dining room. Her gaze met his, then fixed on the little girl beside him.
“Dawn?” Her expression warming, Melissa descended the two steps from the elevated level. “My goodness, you’ve grown.”
“Aunt Lissa!” The child flung herself forward. As her arms stretched to embrace her aunt, she halted in confusion. “You’ve grown, too.”
Melissa laughed and hugged the child around her enlarged midsection. “I’m pregnant.”
“You are?” Dawn patted the extended tummy. “He’s a big baby.”
“That’s because...” She broke off suddenly.
“Is something wrong?” Edmond touched her elbow to steady her.
“No.” She cleared her throat. “It’s just that...”
“He’s a she and she’s coming in triplicate.” A fortyish man with a short beard and black top hat joined the conversation from the side.
“You’re having three babies?” Dawn asked.
“That’s right,” her aunt said. “All girls.”
Triplets. Melissa didn’t do things by half measures, Edmond thought. “Congratulations.”
Dawn patted her aunt’s tummy again. “What are their names?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Can I pick?”
Melissa brushed a curl off the little girl’s forehead. “I’m not ready to name them yet.”
What else was one supposed to say under the circumstances? Edmond wondered.“When are you due?” he asked.
“December,” she said. “If I can hold out that long.”
That exhausted his very short repertoire of small talk on the subject. Besides, in Edmond’s opinion, this was far from a light topic, since multiple pregnancies carried extra risks. “I hope this won’t endanger your health.”
“She’s being closely monitored.” The bearded man extended his hand. “I’m the groom’s uncle, Rod Vintner.”
“We’ve met before.” He shook hands with the man, who then solemnly did the same with Dawn. She giggled. “At the hospital.”
“Ah, that’s right.” The man nodded.
“Rod’s an anesthesiologist,” Melissa said to Dawn. “He puts patients to sleep while they’re in surgery.”
“And I’ll soon be sleeping myself, here at Casa Wiggins,” Rod announced. “I’m trading residences with the bride. She’s moving into the apartment Jack and I shared, and I’m taking her old room.”
“Ah.”
Don’t get ideas now that you’re living with my wife. Where had that notion come from? Edmond had no claim on Melissa. Besides, a positive aspect occurred to him. “I’m glad she’ll have an M.D. on hand.”
“I don’t deliver babies.” Rod waggled his eyebrows. “Come to think of it, I don’t make house calls, either.”
“But you’ll live here,” Dawn pointed out.
“You’re right,” Melissa said. “He can serve as the house physician.”
“Living together means we’ll all be one big happy family, and doctors don’t provide medical care to family members,” the man deadpanned.
“You wouldn’t help her?” Dawn demanded.
“Of course he would,” Melissa assured the child. “Rod’s joking.”
“It’s lucky his patients are asleep,” Dawn replied tartly. “’Cause his jokes aren’t funny.”
Edmond laughed at the unexpected jab. The man in the top hat clutched his side. “Ow! A direct hit.”
“I’m impressed,” Melissa said. “You have a wicked wit, Dawn.”
She took her aunt’s hand. “Will you sit with us?”
“Of course.”
“On that note, I have best man duties to attend to.” Rod patted his pocket, which presumably held the ring, and went to join an older man in a suit waiting beneath the arch.
“That must be the minister,” Edmond observed.
“He’s from Karen’s church.” Melissa glanced toward the kitchen door. “I’m supposed to be helping her with the food.”
“Isn’t the ceremony about to start?” The invitation said 2 p.m., and it was almost that now. The seats had been filling as they spoke. “If we wait any longer, we’ll be sitting on the window ledge.”
“You’re right.” Melissa led the way down the narrow aisle to three empty seats. The folding chairs, fitted with white covers, weren’t exactly comfortable, but Edmond found room to stretch his legs beneath the seat in front of him.
Being near Melissa was a treat. Just the musical sound of her voice calmed him. During their marriage, her nearness had filled the dark spaces in Edmond’s soul. With her, he hadn’t had to throw up protective walls. She’d understood him intuitively, which was why he’d expected her to understand that his vasectomy was a declaration of how strongly he felt about preserving their union.
She had a gift for nurturing, and he’d needed that. He still did. But she’d chosen motherhood over him.
Dawn, too, seemed to retain a bond with her. In the seat between them, the little girl hung on to her aunt as if she might disappear at any moment. In Dawn’s world, people vanished too often. The therapist Edmond had hired for her said she suffered from separation anxiety.
“You look like a princess,” Dawn told Melissa.
“So do you.” She fingered the little girl’s curls. “Who fixed your hair?”
“Grandma Isabel.” Nodding at Melissa’s bulge, she asked, “Who’s the daddy?”
That brought a flush to his ex-wife’s cheeks. “It’s a long story.”
“Can you make it shorter?”
“Sorry. Not now,” Melissa said gently. “Another time.”
Reluctantly, the little girl subsided. “Okay.”
Edmond hoped his niece wouldn’t demand that he explain. While he believed she was acquainted with the facts of procreation, artificial insemination seemed too intimate a subject for an uncle to describe.
“How’s your mommy?” Melissa asked.
Oh, damn. Edmond wished he’d had a chance to bring up his sister’s situation sooner. But before he could find the right words, Dawn blurted, “We visited Mommy in jail this morning. She’s scared.”
Nearby, several heads turned. “Barbara’s in jail?” Melissa regarded Edmond with concern.
“I’ll fill you in later.” Surely she would have read the articles in the newspaper about the robbery. However, the reports had misstated Barb’s last name as Greeley, although she and Simon had never married.
Melissa’s nod conveyed her understanding, and she directed her next question to Dawn. “Who are you staying with?”
“Grandma and Grandpa.”
“My father and stepmother, not Simon’s,” Edmond clarified. Simon’s parents—an ex-convict father whose whereabouts were unknown and an alcoholic mother with half a dozen children by assorted men—had no contact with Dawn.
“I’m glad you brought her with you.” Melissa reached across her niece to touch Edmond’s hand. “And that you’re here.”
So was he. All the same, he couldn’t resist teasing. “Glad I ignored your request?”
“Oh, Eddie, is it written somewhere that we’re forbidden to get everything we want?” Her wistfulness curled inside him.
The discovery that she, too, had regrets, or at least doubts, warmed him. “I’m beginning to think so,” he admitted.
He might have added more, but just then a handsome man in a dark suit joined Rod and the minister at the arch. Dawn stared, entranced. “Is that the groom? He could be a movie star.”
“That’s Jack,” Melissa confirmed. “He’s an obstetrician. The nurses at the hospital went into mourning when he got engaged to Anya.”
Jack beamed with happiness. He and Anya hadn’t had an easy relationship, Edmond knew, but overcoming obstacles had apparently bonded them all the more strongly.
Too bad it hadn’t worked that way with us.
A muscular fellow knelt by the boom box to change the recording. Tattoos peeked from beneath his shirt collar. “Who’s that?” Edmond asked.
“One of our housemates, Lucky Mendez, R.N.”
Dawn studied the man dubiously. “He’s a nurse?”
“Men can be nurses, too. He assists Dr. Cole Rattigan, the head of the men’s fertility program,” Melissa said, adding, “Also, he just earned a master’s degree in nursing administration.”
“What’s he plan to do with that?” Edmond asked.
“Hopefully stay in Safe Harbor, if the men’s fertility program expands, although that’s up in the air.” Melissa cast the fellow a sympathetic glance. “Otherwise he might have to find a position elsewhere.”
“My daddy had tattoos,” Dawn put in.
Melissa frowned. “Had, past tense?”
“He died about six months ago.” Edmond didn’t care to say anything more around his niece.
Dismay clouded Melissa’s expression. “I’ve missed a lot.”
“I’ve missed you,” Dawn said, and smiled when her aunt kissed the top of her head.
The music changed to a march. Conversations among the guests died out.
From the front hall, the younger flower girl entered. Clutching a bouquet, she strode up the aisle a little too fast for the music.
“Slow down, for Pete’s sake,” growled a bulldog of a man sitting on the aisle.
The girl—Amber, Edmond recalled—flinched and slowed. Her sister, following, scowled at the man from outside his range of vision.
Edmond raised an eyebrow questioningly at Melissa. Leaning close, she murmured, “That’s the girls’ stepfather. Vince Adams.”
“The billionaire.” A private equity investor, Vincent Adams was famous throughout Southern California for his business success and for his ruthlessness. He was also, Edmond had learned from the hospital administrator, considering donating millions of dollars to expand the men’s fertility program.
As the girls took places by the arch, a pretty young woman in a dress matching theirs marched up the aisle. “That’s Anya’s sister Sarah,” Melissa murmured. “Anya has a big family. They couldn’t all come, but they’re planning a reception in Colorado after the baby’s born.”
“How big a family?” Dawn whispered.
“She’s one of seven kids.”
“Wow.”
The music shifted to “Here Comes the Bride.” Anya entered from the hall on the arm of a distinguished older man, no doubt her father. Edmond wasn’t up on the latest fashions in wedding gowns, but this one was suitably white with a lot of lace. It skimmed Anya’s expanded midsection, a reminder that she was only a few months from delivering her own baby.
“Is everybody pregnant?” Dawn asked, a little too loudly. Nearby, several people chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
Noting her tense expression, Edmond leaned close. “It’s a fair question,” he whispered.
“Yes, this house is baby central,” Melissa said softly.
Dawn relaxed. The poor kid sometimes acted as if she carried the weight of the world, Edmond thought.
It was her parents’ job to protect her childhood. Too bad they’d failed. Who would protect her now?
* * *
TO MELISSA, JOY illuminated the familiar room. How Anya glowed as her father handed her to the groom. Judging by Jack’s grin, it took all his self-control not to hoist Anya in his arms and whisk her off to their secret honeymoon destination, which Melissa had discovered was Santa Catalina Island. Rod had mentioned it to Karen, who’d passed it on to Melissa. Secrets didn’t stay secret long in Casa Wiggins.
Located a little over twenty miles off the California coast, the island was noted for its old-fashioned charm and for ocean-related activities in its clear waters, including snorkeling and viewing undersea life from glass-bottom boats. Jack had arranged for them to stay at a romantic Victorian bed-and-breakfast with a view of the small-boat harbor in the town of Avalon.
How wonderful that the baby, whom they planned to name after both their grandmothers, would be born to such a loving pair. She was a lucky little girl.
A fluttery sensation alerted Melissa that her as-yet-nameless babies were stirring. Whenever she tried to focus on names for them, her mind went blank. Well, what was the rush?
Beneath the arch, Jack kept peeking at his bride, tuning out the minister. Anya gave him a poke, which restored him to the proper demeanor.
How comfortable they were with each other, Melissa reflected. Edmond’s and her ceremony had been more formal, although every bit as enchanting. Her father, a psychologist, and her mother, a high-school math teacher, had treated her to the wedding of her dreams. A hotel ballroom in Santa Monica, the coastal city where they’d lived, had provided a fairy-tale setting for soul mates embarking on a life together. Or so she’d believed.
She’d met Edmond in a coffee shop at UCLA, where she’d been earning her master’s degree in molecular biology and Edmond had been a law student. She’d admired his boldness in taking a seat at the table with her and her friends. He’d been a complete stranger but he’d teasingly claimed they kept running into each other. After she played along, they’d stayed to talk hours after her friends left. From then on, they’d gravitated to each other, a pair of intense high-achievers who shared many of the same political and social views. Their wedding day had been the happiest day of her life.
During her painful recovery from the divorce, friends had repeatedly advised her to throw her wedding album away, but Melissa couldn’t imagine sacrificing those memories. There was an especially lovely photo of her with the maid of honor, Edmond’s sister, Barbara, who’d bloomed with sixteen-year-old innocence.
Only a few months later, Barbara had run off to live with an ex-con. Despite Edmond’s protests, his normally stern father had refused to call the police. Edmond himself had tried hard to reach out to his sister, calling and dropping by her place, but Barbara had refused to talk and Simon had threatened him.
Why hadn’t her parents struggled harder to keep her? They could have brought charges against the man. As for Edmond, he’d taken his sister’s rejection hard, as if he’d failed her. Melissa suspected the situation had reinforced his conviction that he wasn’t cut out for parenthood. She’d soothed him as best she could, hoping that he’d heal. She’d learned the hard way that he hadn’t.
Now, Dawn’s mother was in jail. What crime had Barbara committed? How long would she be separated from her daughter?
While the minister expanded on the transformative power of marriage, Dawn wiggled in her seat. Edmond murmured to her—Melissa caught the words soon and food.
“Okay, Uncle Eddie.” Trustingly, Dawn rested her cheek on his arm.
A glaze of tears in his eyes might not seem remarkable, considering how many people cried at weddings. But to Melissa, they showed how much Edmond’s usually guarded heart was aching for this little girl. Was he finally discovering a paternal instinct?
These past three years, she’d pictured him enjoying his freedom, traveling abroad the way they used to. She’d fought painful images of him finding a woman who shared his tastes and his pleasures.
Instead, here he was, still single. Evidently he’d been tied up with family issues. He’d shouldered an unusual amount of responsibilities since his teen years, with his father frequently off driving long-distance truck routes and his reticent mother intimidated by her strong-willed daughter. Edmond’s efforts to help raise his sister had smashed head-on into her adolescent rebellion. No wonder he’d craved peace and quiet as an adult.
As Anya and Jack exchanged rings and said their vows, tears blurred Melissa’s own gaze. She and Edmond couldn’t go back to their wedding day eight years ago and make things come out differently. Yet today he was showing a different side of himself....
What an idiot she was! When she entered into this pregnancy, she’d been well aware that she couldn’t expect any man to love and care for her and her babies. Her longing for them had overwhelmed all other considerations.
They were enough to fill up her life and her heart. They had to be.
Chapter Four (#ulink_f29a4f39-0d30-5cb8-b2c6-b1e5f6d78027)
Edmond had intended to stay after the ceremony only long enough to be polite. He’d assumed his presence might be uncomfortable for Melissa.
Instead, she was friendly toward him, while Dawn eagerly joined the red-haired flower girls at the buffet table in an area connecting the kitchen and den. He was glad he’d brought her. His niece could use a change of scenery to take her mind off visiting her mom in jail.
Worse might lie ahead for Barbara. Edmond tried not to dwell on that disturbing prospect. He needed today’s change of pace as much as Dawn.
“You and your housemates are wonderful cooks,” he told Melissa as they waited in line. Delicious smells wafted from the array of dishes, while a separate table displayed a three-tiered white cake decked with blue and red berries and, on top, a large red heart. Plates of cookies surrounded it, presumably for those too impatient to wait for dessert.
“The food is mostly Karen’s doing. I’m the baker. I can’t take credit for the wedding cake, though,” she added. “I’m the cookie lady.”
“I’m impressed by anything people do in a kitchen, other than set fires.” Growing up, Edmond had learned the basics, but rarely cooked.
“When we moved into the house, the five of us voted to take turns, each fixing dinner for a week. That didn’t last,” Melissa admitted. “Now we all pitch in or go our own ways.”
“The kitchen must have been upgraded.” From where they stood, Edmond noted gleaming new appliances.
“Karen remodeled after her mother died last year,” Melissa said. “She didn’t change the basic shape of the room, though. You still have to perform the limbo to get into the pantry.”
“So she inherited the place. I was wondering why she bought a house here, considering the smell. Although the scenery is striking.” Sliding glass doors offered a view across the patio and rear yard to the gray-and-green estuary. “What’s the layout—any bedrooms downstairs?” While he didn’t expect a tour of the place, Edmond was curious about the sleeping arrangements.
“Lucky has a small suite through there.” She indicated a doorway on the far side of the den. “Karen, Zora, Anya and I have bedrooms upstairs.”
“Except now Rod’s taking Anya’s place,” he muttered, half to himself.
Melissa ducked her head. “I keep forgetting.”
“Won’t that be awkward, having a guy upstairs with the ladies?”
In a low tone, she confided, “He and Karen have become close. I hope that won’t blow up in our faces, but she seems happy, and he’s a solid guy underneath the kidding.”
“Yes, I got that impression.”
As Edmond filled his plate at the serving table, he recalled his intention of cultivating new acquaintances. There were a lot of people here, and he supposed he could chat them up, but he’d much rather spend the afternoon in Melissa’s company.
Also, he suspected many of the guests, aside from those he’d already met, were from out-of-town. The father of the bride was busy tending to his wife, who moved stiffly with the aid of a cane. Jack was introducing his friends to a fiftyish woman dressed in knock-your-eyes-out Caribbean colors. Edmond had heard that Jack’s mother lived in Haiti and raised money for charities there.
He decided to forget duty for one day. Aside from keeping an eye on Dawn, of course. She and the two older girls had gone outside to eat at the patio table. Before they closed the glass door behind them, Dawn had sent Edmond a questioning gaze. He nodded his approval. If the girls didn’t mind the smell, more power to them.
“I’m glad she’s found playmates,” he said, following Melissa to a well-worn couch. “She tends to be shy, especially with new people. Jack’s nieces seem outgoing.”
“Except around their stepfather,” she murmured.
Edmond didn’t spot Vince Adams or his wife in the den, although they’d been at the head of the buffet line. He assumed the couple had carried their plates into the dining room, where some of Melissa’s housemates had put back the dining room table and set it immediately after the ceremony. That suited him fine. No matter how important the Adamses might be as potential donors, Edmond was in no mood for apple-polishing, especially to a guy who’d publicly humiliated his stepdaughter.
“You’re good with Dawn.” Melissa set her plate on the coffee table.
“I try.” He stared moodily at his food. “Let’s hope I do better with her than I did with my sister. I wish I understood where I went wrong.”
“Why do you blame yourself for her problems?” she asked.
“When we were young and Dad was on the road, Barbara used to confide in me about everything, value my advice, follow me around. But when she hit adolescence, I was commuting to college so I couldn’t be there for her. She began acting out, cutting school, skipping her homework assignments.”
“Many teenagers rebel to a degree,” she pointed out.
“Sure, but then she ran off with Simon. I should have done more to stop her.” It had been only a few months after their marriage. “She was sixteen. We could have gone to the police.”
“That was your parents’ decision, not yours,” she reminded him. “And she did get legally emancipated after Dawn’s birth.”
“I can’t shake the sense that I let her down. Did she mention why she’d been so eager to leave home?” While Edmond knew Simon could be charming and manipulative, surely his sister hadn’t been totally blind to the man’s faults.
“I sensed she was angry, but not necessarily at you. She didn’t say anything specific, though.” Flecks of green stood out in Melissa’s hazel eyes. “I tried to talk to her after she had the baby, about planning a future for herself and Dawn, but she pushed me away. Edmond, why is she in jail? That sounds serious.”
“It is.” Months of holding his emotions in check, of standing strong for everyone around him, yielded to the relief of confiding in a person he trusted. “That jerk Simon talked her into driving the getaway car for a robbery.”
“I can’t believe she’d do something that stupid.” Melissa set down her fork, giving him her full attention.
Around them, people mingled and chatted. Edmond saw Karen glance their way as if about to approach, but he shook his head. She went in another direction. He decided he liked that woman. “According to Barbara—after the fact—Simon claimed he owed money to a criminal gang and that if he didn’t pay up, they’d kill him.”
“Was it true?”
“I have no idea.” Either way, that didn’t excuse the man’s crimes, nor Barb’s. “During the robbery, he and a policeman traded gunfire, and Simon was fatally wounded. The officer escaped injury, mercifully.”
That was fortunate both for the officer and for Barbara. Under California law, the district attorney could have charged her with murder just for being a participant in the robbery. However, perhaps doubting that a jury would convict her of murder under the circumstances, the D.A. had only charged her with robbery.
“Your sister was waiting in the getaway car?” Melissa asked.
“That’s right.” She hadn’t witnessed the shooting, but she’d heard gunfire. “Simon staggered into the passenger seat. While she was arguing that they should go to a hospital, he died.”
Melissa shook her head. “How awful.”
“I can’t spare any regrets for that man,” Edmond said bitterly. “He ruined my sister’s life—with her compliance.”
“What about Dawn? Where was she during all this?”
“She’d gone to the beach with a friend’s family.” The shootout had occurred on a Saturday, while his niece was out of school. “The police contacted my father and stepmother, who called me. I picked her up and broke the news.” He clenched his fists at the memory.
Edmond had built up to the subject gradually during the drive from the beach, telling his niece as much as he’d learned of the robbery and assuring her that her mother was unharmed but under arrest. Dawn had taken the news of Simon’s death solemnly, her response hard to read.
Then, tearfully, she’d asked, “Is it because I was mad at him?”
Shocked, Edmond had assured her that Simon’s death wasn’t her fault. “Neither you nor I nor anyone else has magical powers,” he’d told her, hoping that was the right thing to say. “This has nothing to do with you. Why were you mad at him?”
“He yelled at me for leaving my toys out.”
Edmond hadn’t been sure a seven-year-old understood what death meant, but later, after he’d hired a therapist, she’d insisted that Dawn did understand. Grieving was a complex process, she’d added. As Dawn entered new phases of development, she’d revisit the loss. For now, she needed to feel secure that the other people she loved weren’t going to disappear from her world, too.
Unfortunately, Edmond couldn’t promise that about Barbara. He could only do his best to hold Dawn’s world together. Given his poor track record with his sister, he sometimes panicked over the missteps he might make.
Melissa touched his arm, a soothing gesture that brought him back to this comfortable room and cheerful gathering. “Dawn’s been through a lot this past year,” she said. “So have you and Barbara.”
“It’s been rough.” He sketched the rest of the sorry tale. After Barb’s arrest, a judge had granted bail, and she and Dawn had moved in with his father, Mort, and stepmother, Isabel, a retired nurse’s aide. During the trial, the grandparents had helped supervise the little girl, with frequent visits from Edmond until the jury had come back with the verdict two weeks ago. The jurors had convicted his sister of robbery and related charges. “Her sentencing is Monday afternoon.”
She blinked. “The day after tomorrow?”
“That’s right.” Edmond had already arranged to take the day off work to be there for moral support. Barb’s defense attorney, Joseph Noriega, had submitted a sentencing memorandum requesting leniency. By now the judge also had a probation report and the prosecutor’s recommendation. Edmond suspected they’d be less favorable.
Melissa’s hand cupped his. “What kind of sentence is she facing?”
“Minimum, a year in county jail plus probation.”
“And the maximum?”
Noriega had warned them to prepare for a longer term, to be served in state prison. “I’m trying not to dwell on it. Let’s wait till we know for sure.”
“How can the judge separate her from her little girl any longer than necessary?” Melissa asked.
“She’s the one who chose to break the law.” As an attorney, Edmond was a sworn officer of the court, and he understood the legal perspective. “If Simon had lived, she might have negotiated a deal based on testifying against him. But that’s not possible now.”
The prosecutor had had no difficulty winning a conviction. The jury had reached a verdict in three hours, which was lightning speed, considering that they’d also had to elect a foreman, fill out paperwork and review multiple counts during that time.
Melissa returned to her main concern. “You said she’ll be in jail at least a year. What are the arrangements for Dawn?”
“That reminds me, I’d better check on her. I’ll tell you in a minute.” Before he could rise, however, Edmond observed his niece entering with the other girls, then sliding the glass door shut behind them. Tiffany shepherded the little band into the kitchen with their empty plates and glasses.
While the youngsters were out of earshot, he said, “My Dad and Isabel indicated they’d take her, with my assistance. But that’s not settled.”
“What do you mean?” Worry suffused Melissa’s expressive face. She’d always been empathetic, and he recalled how she used to love holding Dawn on her lap and paging through picture books with the little girl.
Had that been a factor in her change of heart about having children? Later, he’d tried to figure out how she could have changed her opinions so dramatically without his awareness, and perhaps her relationship with Dawn had been a clue. But it wasn’t enough to explain her sudden shift.
How ironic that he was now forced to step in as a substitute parent of sorts. “While Barb was preparing for trial, she was afraid that if she were convicted, the authorities might put Dawn in foster care,” he answered.
“That would be horrible!”
“Yes.” It didn’t take an expert in child psychology to understand how traumatic that would be for everyone. “Barb wanted to assign temporary guardianship to Isabel and Dad, but they were too tied up with Dad’s medical issues to go to family court with her.”
“Medical issues?”
“Skin cancer.” He explained briefly that his father had undergone treatment and tests now showed him to be cancer-free. Then he continued, “Appointment of a guardian requires a judge’s approval.” Nearly hysterical with fear for her daughter’s well-being as the trial date approached, Barbara had begged Edmond to take emergency guardianship himself.
“What did you do?” Melissa watched him intently.
“I agreed, even though I’m obviously not the ideal person to raise a little girl.” That was an understatement for a guy who lacked paternal instincts, had failed miserably in protecting his sister, and lived in a one-bedroom apartment.
However, he refused to abandon his family. He’d promised in court to take responsibility for Dawn, and he meant it. If necessary, he’d move in with his parents for a year and commute an hour each way from their home in Norwalk, in eastern Los Angeles County. It would be uncomfortable and inconvenient, but he’d do it for Dawn and for Barbara.
“Dawn said she was staying with your parents,” Melissa reminded him.
“She and Barb were already living there.” He blew out a long breath. “We all agreed it’s vital that she have what her therapist calls ‘continuity of care.’”
“I’m glad she has a counselor,” Melissa said. “That doesn’t substitute for being with her mom, though. Why couldn’t Barb stay out on bail until she’s sentenced?”
“She’s considered a flight risk.” The Mexican border was only a couple of hours’ drive away.
“That’s too bad.” Melissa regarded him with a warmth he’d missed—a lot. “Edmond, what you’re doing for Dawn, protecting her so she won’t go into foster care, it’s wonderful.”
“I would never let her be yanked away from her family.” To him, it was the only decent way to behave. He’d been blessed with many gifts, including loving if flawed parents, educational opportunities and an aptitude for the law. Surely there was a reason he’d also been given enough strength to stand tall when others needed him. Though it was a relief to express the situation openly to someone, without fear of judgment.
He’d done his best to be there for Melissa after her parents’ deaths. And he’d counted on her being there for him, too.
“Did it occur to you that you might have paternal instincts after all?” she asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“You have a big heart,” she said gently. “Big enough to love more than one person. You’d make a wonderful father.”
He stiffened. Just when he’d believed she understood him, she was viewing his confidence through the lens of her own wishes, trying to convert him into her idea of what a man ought to be. “I’m not her father, I’m her guardian.”
“I’ve seen how you act with her,” Melissa said. “You’ve changed these past three years.”
Not that much.
This past year had been one blow after another. Edmond had rarely had a chance to replenish his inner strength with quiet hours to read, visit museums and travel. The worst part had been enduring these crises alone. That was, in part, why he’d opened up to Melissa today. To his disappointment, her attitude reminded him that she didn’t accept him for himself, only as a wish-fulfillment fantasy.
It was important to clear up that misunderstanding. “Don’t interpret my actions to suit your assumptions. My views on fatherhood haven’t changed.”
“Are you sure you have an accurate perception of yourself?”
How insulting. “While I respect your decision to have children in whatever manner you choose, you shouldn’t cast me in the role of father-knows-best simply because it’s convenient.”
Her mouth tightened. “That’s not what I was doing.”
Instinctively, he echoed her earlier words. “Are you sure you have an accurate perception of yourself?”
“Don’t be arrogant!” As she leaned forward to pick up her plate, a startled expression crossed her face and her hand flew to her midsection.
“Is anything wrong?” Although she didn’t appear distressed, Edmond hadn’t forgotten the bout of nausea in her office.
Melissa shook her head, blond tendrils quivering. “They’re scooting around in there.”
“You can feel the babies?” She’d mentioned being due in December, he recalled, and that was many months off. “How big are they?”
“Four or five inches apiece.” A smile bloomed, and wonder touched Melissa’s eyes. “They’re small, but I can tell when they’re active.”
While the gestation and birth process was miraculous, Edmond couldn’t pretend to share her enthusiasm. “Doesn’t it feel strange, having other people living inside you?”
She chuckled. “What a funny way to put it. This is normal.”
“Having triplets?”
“Not that part.”
Across the room, someone clapped for the guests’ attention. At the cake table, Zora Raditch, one of Melissa’s housemates, waved a metal spatula. “We’re doing the cut-the-cake thing now, and if either bride or groom shoves a slice in the other person’s face, I will personally smash the entire remaining cake over that person’s head. Fair warning!”
A ripple of laughter greeted this announcement. Edmond, however, was concerned about the baby bump visible beneath the woman’s dress. Another unmarried pregnancy in the house wouldn’t concern him, but he’d represented Zora in her divorce from a self-centered businessman named Andrew. Despite an agreement to negotiate fairly, the man had played games with the settlement and with signing the papers.
That had all been resolved, finally. But what about this pregnancy? “Dare I ask if Andrew’s the father?” In Edmond’s opinion, a child deserved better than to be born into such a mixed-up situation.
“Yes, he is, sad to say.” Melissa arose gracefully considering her awkward distribution of weight. “They had break-up sex. Then he went and married his new girlfriend.”
Edmond collected their plates. “He has obligations, regardless. Their child is legally entitled to parental support.”
“It’s children, plural. Twins.” Melissa shrugged. “I’m not sure why, but I don’t believe Zora’s even broken the news to Andrew. She can’t keep her pregnancy secret from him long, since her former mother-in-law works at the hospital.”
“Please let her know I’d be happy to help.” Regardless of Andrew’s attitudes toward fatherhood, he had obligations to these children. And he owed his former wife his support during her pregnancy, as well. “She shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
“She isn’t alone,” Melissa reminded him. “She has me and Karen.”
“Five babies. I’d call that a full house.”
“Plus Anya’s having a baby. But that little girl’s father gives a damn.” With that, Melissa went to join the gathering around the cake table.
I’m not the father of your babies. Her unjustified anger annoyed Edmond. Well, he was responsible for his niece, and no one could accuse him of not giving a damn about her.
On Monday, he’d find out exactly how big a responsibility he’d undertaken. Hopefully, this would prove to be an unpleasant but limited blip in his sister’s troubled life, and Dawn could resume living with her. Pushing aside his worries, Edmond carried the dirty dishes to the kitchen.
Chapter Five (#ulink_ba943e7c-9359-5126-a7dc-3a99b959f2bc)
The savory scent hit Melissa’s senses the moment she opened the oven door. Orange and lemon zest, balsamic vinegar, olive oil and a touch of sweetness—it transported her instantly to a cozy hotel in Sorrento she and Edmond had used as a base for exploring southern Italy during one of their favorite trips.
She’d discovered this unusual muffin recipe on a website. After her roommates tasted it, the muffins had become an instant hit.
With the aroma, perhaps because she’d encountered her ex-husband yesterday, memories flooded in. As she set the hot tin on the stovetop and began transferring the muffins to a wire cooling rack, Melissa recalled the view from their hilltop hotel over the deep blue Gulf of Naples.
She and Edmond had spent days exploring the partially restored ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum, which had been buried in the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D. Images of her husband remained etched in her memory: sweat darkening his shirt as he led the way along a narrow, ancient street; his grin shining from his sun-darkened face as they shared a glass of red wine over lunch; his boyish enthusiasm for the voluptuous frescoes decorating two-thousand-year-old palatial homes. They’d hated to leave Sorrento, even though they were continuing on to Rome, Florence and Venice.
If only she could live two lives, Melissa reflected wistfully as she fetched a box of powdered sugar from the cupboard. In the other life, she and Edmond would continue to travel together and, when at home, spend cozy Sunday mornings nestled on the couch, sharing the newspaper. There’d be no risk of provoking his rejection, because she wouldn’t long for babies.
But she would never give up this reality. Inside her, as if to reassert their presence, the little ones squirmed. Melissa smiled, imagining her daughters’ rambunctious play. She’d read that multiples interacted in the womb. Was one of them already bossy? Was another learning to assert herself in response?
“Ooh, Italian muffins!” Zora bounced into the kitchen, although how anyone five months pregnant with twins could bounce was beyond Melissa. Her housemate’s hand shot toward the cooling rack.
“Stop!” Melissa cried. “They’ll burn you. Besides, they aren’t powdered yet.”
“Can I help?” Without waiting, Zora plucked the box from her hands. Since Melissa had pried the spout partway open, soft sugar floated out, touching Zora’s ginger-colored hair with white and speckling the floor. “Oh, sorry. I’ll clean up.”
“No, you won’t.” Melissa removed the sugar from her grasp before any more escaped. “Neither you nor I ought to be kneeling on the floor.”
“We aren’t invalids.” Zora rarely requested assistance or complained about her pregnancy-related ills, except perhaps to Anya. The two had shared an apartment before moving into this house, and initially their pregnancies had drawn them closer. But Anya was on her honeymoon now, and had already packed most of her possessions to move in with Jack.
“We may not be invalids but we should be sensible,” Melissa told her.
“Don’t lecture me. I get more than enough of that already.” Zora flinched as a heavy tread crossing the den announced Lucky’s approach. “Speak of the devil.”
“Behave,” Melissa cautioned her friend. “He’s a prince of a guy.”
“You mean a royal pain?”
Melissa chuckled. “Lucky can be that, too.”
“Do I hear someone taking my name in vain?” The male nurse appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes sweeping to Zora. Melissa wondered if either of them noticed how he always focused on her first, no matter who else was around.
Although Lucky wasn’t Melissa’s type, she appreciated his macho appeal, from his cropped hair to his colorful tattoos of a dragon and a sword-wielding woman in skimpy armor. These were revealed today, along with his sculpted muscles, by a sleeveless black T-shirt. New acquaintances often reacted with surprise on learning he was a nurse and a vegetarian, as if those aspects were incompatible with rough-hewn virility.
“No more than usual,” Zora said.
“I’m not sure how to interpret that, so I’ll ignore it.”
Melissa was glad Lucky didn’t respond with a jab. He and Zora could pick at each other no end, and Sunday mornings ought to be restful.
When he moved into the kitchen, Melissa halted him with an upraised hand. “Don’t step there.” She pointed to the spilled sugar. “If you would please clean that up, I’ll finish sifting this on the muffins.”
“Sure thing. Since you’re baking, it’s the least I can do.” Cheerfully, Lucky went to fetch cleaning supplies. He really was a good housemate.
“I’ll brew coffee.” Zora took out the canister, although neither she nor Melissa had a taste for it these days. Still, Karen would be down soon, and she didn’t function well till she’d had her first cup.
“I should have put some on earlier,” Melissa reflected.
“Why should you? I just want to look busy. And thanks for not telling him I spilled it,” Zora said in a low voice. “He expects everyone to be perfect.”
“Not everyone. Just you.” For some reason, Lucky was harder on Zora than on anyone else.
Zora measured the coffee, careful to avoid any further spillage. “It’s none of his business whether I inform Andrew about the babies. If I go after my ex for support, he’ll jerk me around, maybe sue for custody just so he feels like he’s on top. He always has to win.”
“What about Betsy?” Andrew’s mother, Betsy Raditch, was the hospital’s director of nursing. Since Zora worked as an ultrasound tech, she wasn’t directly under Betsy’s supervision, but they’d remained on friendly terms after Zora had split with Andrew. “She must have noticed.”
“She hasn’t asked who the father is, and I haven’t told her. No sense putting her in the middle.” Zora broke off as Lucky returned. He wiped the floor without comment.
Melissa finished sugaring the muffins and put them on a platter. After setting one aside for herself and giving Zora another, she set the plate on the table.
“May I eat now, Mommy?” Lucky joked. “I did my chores.”
“Good boy,” Melissa said. “Dig in.”
Soon the three of them were lounging around the table with the newspaper, silent except for the occasional chuckle at a comic strip or wry comment about a news story. Melissa was grateful for the company. Before moving into the house last spring, she’d lived alone in an efficiency apartment, missing married life and yearning for a baby.
She wished she could have found the right man. But her desire for motherhood had become too powerful to resist, and being surrounded by friends provided all the support she could ask for. Most of the time, anyway.
Zora departed first. Waiting until they heard the shower running upstairs, Lucky caught Melissa’s eye and said, “Since you’re on positive terms with your ex, you should talk to him about Zora. As her divorce attorney, he’s the best person to explain about Andrew’s legal obligations.”
“Zora’s well aware that he owes her support,” Melissa answered. “She has her reasons for keeping mum. And it isn’t my business to intervene with her attorney.”
“Well, she does a rotten job of taking care of herself. Her mom and stepfather live out of state, and we’re the only family she has around here.” Lucky set aside the sports section. “She ought to put her life in order before the twins are born.”
“You think involving Andrew will put things in order?” Although Melissa didn’t disagree with Lucky’s premise, she also understood Zora’s side. “It’s a messy situation no matter what she does.”
“She must love messy situations, because she’s always in one.” Morning light through the glass door played across his smooth olive skin. “First she had an affair with Andrew while he was married to his first wife, then, after he cheated on her, too...well, what kind of bonehead has break-up sex with a guy like that?”
“She doesn’t always show the best judgment.” Melissa left it at that. She didn’t want to run down her friend.

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