Chapter Thirteen

Spurred on by Lorna’s painful gasps, Ally made it through every green light between the Fairmont Hotel and California Pacific Medical Center.

At the same time, with Lorna’s cell phone in hand, Jillian was able to alert her pregnant friend’s physician, Dr. Mortensen, that she was on her way to the hospital.

She then called Matthew’s cell number. Six times.

Each time, she let it ring until it stopped. Finally, she explained, “I’m so sorry, Lorna! He’s just not picking up!”

Ally swung into the driveway of the hospital’s obstetrics center. Swerving to a stop, she pointed to a wheelchair sitting outside the sliding doors. “Jillian, jump out and grab it while I help Lorna out of the car.”

Jillian flew out the car on one side while Ally flew out on the other.

“Just keep trying Matt until you get him,” Ally shouted as she wheeled Lorna into the lobby

Where she found Matt, pacing frantically.

Wide-eyed, Ally and Matt stared at each other.

His gaze fell to the wheelchair, where his wife sat, heaving in pain.

Then he passed out.

When Matt came to, Jillian was holding a cold compress to his neck.

It fell as he bolted up. “Lorna! Oh, my God!”

“She’s fine! Really, she is,” Jillian assured him. “They’re allowing Ally to stay with her until you feel well enough to join her.”

Sighing happily, he eased back down. Suddenly, he sat straight up again. “Oh, my God! Bettina!”

“What about her?” Jillian asked warily.

“She’s delivering her baby too—right now!”

It was Jillian’s turn to jump. “Oh! So, that’s why you didn’t pick up your phone.”

“Jillian, please! You have to go to her—to Bettina!”

Jillian flinched. “But…she won’t want me there. She hates me!”

“Don’t take it personally. She hates everyone. And you’ll only need to stay until you can relieve Mother with Dante and Lily.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Lesser of two evils, right?”

She nodded slowly. “Okay, then, call your mother. Tell her to bring the kids. I’ll take them to my place. Oh, and tell her to bring Hera! I’d imagine that Lorna will want her here too.”

He tossed his cell phone to Jillian. As he ran off, he shouted, “Mother is number two on my speed dial. Thank you!”

The epidural needle hurt like hell.

Unfortunately, the injection had yet to kick in when Jillian stuck her head into Bettina’s surgical suite. “Hi!” Jillian chirped brightly. “The nurse said it was okay for me to hang with you until your doctor arrives

“What in Hades are you doing here?” Bettina’s pained growl reverberated off the room’s walls. “Out! Now!” Her attempt to grandly point to the door failed miserably, what with all the IVs and monitors taped to her. “Where is Matthew, anyway?”

“Yeah, um…funny thing about that,” Jillian’s laugh came out half-heartedly. “You’ll never guess who else is delivering today.”

“Not Lorna!” Bettina snarled. “Must she always steal my thunder?”

“Not to worry,” Jillian assured her. “Your mother is on her way, with Hera.”

“No, no, no!” Bettina was now sobbing uncontrollably. “I can’t stand that woman!”

Jillian was horrified. “Your mother?”

“No, you dolt!” Bettina hissed. “Horrid Hera!”

If Jillian knew which IV button would release more of the Kickapoo-joy-juice, she would have pressed it. Since she didn’t, all she could do was hold Bettina’s hand until Eleanor burst through the door, smiling.

“Ah, Jillian! How kind of you to wait with Bettina. Ally has Dante and Lily out in the hall. Thank you for taking them on next. Feel free to take your departure. Neither of us will be offended.”

Taking her at her word, Jillian fled from the room.

“Mother, you don’t have to stay either,” Bettina sniffed.

“Stop it, darling. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “But if this is your way of saying you’d prefer I leave

“Not at all,” Bettina insisted. “I wouldn’t want to die without first thanking you for all you’ve done for me this year. I’d have ended up in the gutter without you.”

Eleanor gave a grateful sigh. “Ah, good! The drugs are finally kicking in. You’re not dying, Bettina, albeit childbirth, as you already know, is the most painful thing we women do. Even if that weren’t the case, I’m grateful for what you’ve just said. Sadly, yours has been a truly annus horribillis. But something tells me that this new little Connaught will herald in a new era of

“Yes, yes—all your platitudes are sincerely appreciated, Mother! Truly, they are,” Bettina gasped. “With that in mind, please call the nurses! He’s about to make his entrancenow!”


Meanwhile, just down the hall

Okay, Lorna: one down, one to go! Remember, you want to do it just like in Lamaze class! Breathe…Breathe… Yes, that’s it! Now, push!” Matthew shouted over Hera’s Wiccan chant.

Dr. Mortensen bent down in order to whisper in Lorna’s ear, “If they’re making nuisances of themselves, I can ask them to leave.”

She was laughing so hard at his offer that the concerted effort for a big push wasn’t needed after all. The second infant—Eleanor Hera Connaught—entered the world with a cry. She was caught by her father, who also had the honor of cutting the cord. She was then blessed in tongues by her grandmother Hera before being washed by the attending nurse.

After being swaddled in a pink plaid blanket that matched the blue one wrapped around her brother—Nicholas Morrow Connaught—both sleeping infants were placed in the crook of their mother’s arms.

Awed by the sight, Matthew and Hera stood arm in arm. In a hushed tone, he asked, “Hera, what were you chanting, anyway?”

She smiled. “Blessings for little Nick and Nora! That they’ll embody their mother’s kind heart, their father’s open mind, and their brother’s deep soul.”

“That’s truly beautiful,” Matthew whispered. “Frankly, I hope they’ll see through your always wonder-seeking eyes.”

Hera blinked away her tears. “Why, thank you, Matthew. And all this time I was under the impression that you thought my beliefs were a bunch of hooey.”

Matt shrugged. “Once upon a time, yes. But through knowing you, I’ve come to realize that one’s faith in a higher purpose trumps any other problems we may encounter.”

“True indeed,” she agreed. “It’s why I know Dante will be just fine.”

This time, it was Matt’s eyes that glazed over with tears.

Lorna sighed. “I love you both. But if you’re going to start being sappy, I may move in with Bettina, just to mix things up.”

Matt’s eyes grew big. “Bettina! I almost forgot—I’ve got a new little nephew!” He reached for his phone, but couldn’t find it. “Darn, I left my phone with Jillian.”

Lorna laughed. “That’s so funny. I did too. And by now, she’s got to be home.”

“Not to worry. Eleanor and I will get them when we pick up Dante and Lily.” Hera sighed. “Since she’s angry at Jillian, she’ll probably send me in. I’m so distressed over the feng shui in Jillian’s house

“Wait…Why is Eleanor angry at Jillian, of all people?” Lorna asked.

Hera nodded. “I can’t figure it out myself. All I know is that she thought that holding your shower and Bettina’s on the same day was Jillian, Jade, and Ally’s way of ensuring no one showed up to Bettina’s. Apparently, it worked out that way.”

“My friends would never do that to Bettina!” Lorna couldn’t believe her ears. “For that matter, why wasn’t I invited to Bettina’s shower?”

“Supposedly, you were. At least, Eleanor was under the assumption that an invitation went to everyone in the club.”

“Is that what Jillian said to her?”

“No. Someone named—hmmm, let me think…Oh yes! Kelly.”

“It sounds exactly like the kind of game Kelly would play,” Matthew muttered.

“How cruel,” Lorna murmured.

“She sounds like the embodiment of bad karma,” Hera declared. “No matter. I have a chant for someone like her as well.”

Matthew chuckled. “Oh, this I’ve got to hear.”

“Not here, and not now,” Lorna said firmly. “From now on, in the presence of all family, we think pleasant thoughts.”

“Or chant pleasant chants,” Matthew countered. “No more drama in the Connaught household? This truly is a new era!”


Back up the hall, three hours later

What Bettina remembered about the birth of Nathaniel Morrow Connaught was the exhaustion she felt after his delivery; the disappointment of learning from Matthew that Lorna’s twins had arrived only nineteen minutes earlier (“Why must she always beat me to the punch!” she muttered at him); and the look on her mother’s face as Eleanor held her newest grandson for the very first time.

Right after they kissed her goodbye, Bettina instantly fell asleep.

She didn’t know how long she’d been out when she woke to the sound of Nat’s sleepy whimper. Opening one eye, she was met by the sight of a man, in scrubs and a surgical cap, holding her child.

“Doctor…my son…is everything alright?” she murmured.

The man turned around. Lowering his surgical mask, he declared, “Sure, babe! He’s perfect! Art Junior is a chip off the ol’ block.”

Wincing through her pain, Bettina forced herself to sit up. “How the hell did you get in here?”

Art wagged his finger at her. “Already cursing in front of the child? Naughty, naughty!” He rocked back and forth on his heels with Nathaniel. “It wasn’t hard. Despite your status as my pariah wife, there are no armed guards outside your door. I don’t think your new Fed boyfriend was expecting you to drop this little bundle of joy so quickly. Granted, Art Junior is a couple of weeks early

“That isn’t his name,” Bettina growled. “It’s Nathaniel Morrow…Connaught.”

Art’s eyes narrowed. “You mean Cross, don’t you?”

“I meant what I said,” she countered. “I am early. All the stress of being your ex-wife, I assume. Why are you here, anyway? I’d think that San Francisco is the last place you’d be right now.”

“I came back for you, Wifey—and my daughter, and our little bundle of joy here”—he paused to make his point—“Art Junior.”

“Perhaps the rat-tat-tat of gunfire has hurt your hearing. I’ve already told you that his name is Nathaniel Morrow Connaught.” Suddenly suspicious, she added, “Yes, I was early. So, tell me, how did you know I’d gone into labor?”

“I’ve got eyes and ears on you at all times,” he assured her.

He’s spying on me? How?

Then it occurred to her:

She stumbled to her feet in order to grab her purse off the counter. Her cell phone was in the front pocket. She found what she was looking for: an app she’d never purchased called FollowMeee.

“Why, you son of a bitch,” she growled.

He laughed uproariously. “Peek-a-boo!”

When she got home, she’d have one of Brady’s hacker buddies do a security walk-through of her room. In fact, she’d make sure he’d check out her cell phone thoroughly, along with Eleanor’s home, and the car.

“We’ll have plenty of time to come to a consensus over his name when we reach our final destination.” He looked at the Rolex on his arm. “We should be wheels up in twenty-four hours. If you want, I’ll come back and slip you and the wee one out in a laundry cart.”

“No need. I’ve decided to stay here in San Francisco—permanently. I would find your life quite tiresome, what with all the drugs, whores, murders, and attempted kidnappings.” She glared at him. “Speaking of attempted kidnappings, if you don’t put down Nathaniel this very minute, I will scream at the top of my lungs that my outlaw ex-husband is trying to steal my son

The knock on the door silenced her.

She snatched the baby from his arms.

Art, nonplussed, raised his surgical mask over his mouth.

The door opened:

Daniel.

Bettina held onto the bed with her free hand in order to stop herself from falling to the floor.

Daniel smiled at her. Then, seeing Art, he exclaimed, “The nurses told me you were alone.” He held out his hand to Art. “Is this your doctor?”

“No, just an orderly,” she insisted. “He’s emptying the trash in my bathroom.” She flicked her hand at Art.

At least Art was smart enough to take the hint. He grabbed the plastic liner from the wastebasket and then started for the door.

Daniel’s eyes never left him. In fact, when Art reached the threshold, Daniel didn’t move aside. “You’re not in surgery. Why the need for a mask?”

Art gave him a quizzical look before blurting out, “Porque no quiero exposer al bébé a los germenes.”

Daniel thought for a moment and then shrugged. “Right—wouldn’t want to expose the baby to an infection.” He stepped aside.

Art was out of the room in a flash.

Bettina’s relief was expressed in a soft groan.

Daniel rushed to her side. “Bettina! Are you okay? Should I call a nurse?”

“No! Oh, Daniel! I…” to stop stuttering, she took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m just surprised to see you here.” She frowned. “I’d have thought you’d be in the middle of counting the proceeds from the auction.”

He winced. “At the auction, when you doubled over, I was concerned. I thought…I thought it might be about the statue.”

Bettina couldn’t resist asking, “Did Kelly end up with it?”

He grinned. “No. She couldn’t match the final bid: fifty thousand dollars.”

Bettina rolled her eyes. “Thank goodness! Well, I hope it brings the new owners much enjoyment.”

And that they never discover the safe in the base.

Daniel touched Nathaniel’s cheek with his pinkie finger. “After the auction, I tried Matt’s number, but he never picked up.”

Bettina shrugged. “Lorna went into labor too.”

“I wondered why she ran out so quickly.”

Bettina’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“She was at the auction too. You didn’t see her? I guess that explains why you and Matt weren’t sitting with her—and Jillian and Ally.”

They were there to gloat over the sale of my possessions, Bettina reasoned.

I hate them all—especially Lorna.

“What’s his name?” Daniel asked.

Bettina’s eyes grew larger. “Who…the orderly’s?”

Daniel laughed. “No, silly woman. I meant the baby’s.”

“Oh! …Nathaniel Morrow Connaught. I’ll call him Nat. Short and sweet.”

She realized Daniel was watching intently as she rambled on. Guiltily, she declared crisply, “Now that you know I’m fine, feel free to check in on Lorna.”

“Sure, I’ll go if you’re too tired to talk to me.” He asked it as a challenge.

Turning her head to the wall, she muttered, “I am tired.”

So tired of Art butting into my life; and tired of having others hate me for petty reasons

And most of all, I’m tired of lying to you.

The sudden urge came over her: to tell him about the key

“No, Daniel, stay! I have something to say

Too late. By the time she turned around, he’d already gone.