“CHANCES of miscarriage are one in a hundred.”
The obstetrician continued explaining how chorionic villus testing worked and what to expect during the procedure, but Greg’s mind fastened on the risk factors. The phrase ran through his head time and time again.
Hannah, dressed in a standard hospital gown, sat on the exam table and listened intently to the doctor. Her face was a blank slate, giving Greg no indication of what she was thinking. Her appointment had been the first one of the day, and if Dr. Preston was surprised to see him accompanying her new patient, she didn’t show it.
Greg had stepped outside the room during the internal exam but had been called back in during the explanations. Everything with the pregnancy seemed to be normal. Hannah was six weeks along, but that time was calculated from her last period, not the date of conception, which had been two weeks after that date. But, still, how had four weeks passed from the fateful encounter in his office? Time had kind of become a vague BC/AD delineation of time in which BC stood for “before condom” and AD meant “after dumbass.”
Hannah had been given a tentative July due date, which seemed both way too soon and an eternity away. His life would be turned upside down until he knew for sure whether or not he was the father.
But at a one-in-a-hundred chance of losing the baby? Was his peace of mind really worth that much?
He moved closer to the exam table and touched Hannah’s arm, interrupting the doctor’s litany. “Don’t do it.”
Hannah blinked up at him. “I’m sorry?”
Her question made him realize just how far they’d traveled away from the subject of D.N.A. testing. Greg had no idea what the current topic was, but he had to make his wishes clear. “I don’t want you to do the paternity testing.”
The doctor glanced from one to the other. “Do you want me to give you a moment?”
“Do you mind?” Hannah’s voice was soft, her eyes still on his.
“Not at all. I’ll get started with my next patient.” The doctor squeezed Hannah’s shoulder, gave Greg an enigmatic look and slid through the door.
“I thought you wanted the testing done,” Hannah said as soon as they were alone.
“It’s too risky.”
“But when I mentioned that earlier, you just brushed it aside.”
Greg dragged a hand through his hair. She was right, he had. He didn’t know what had changed between then and now, but something had. Maybe having tangible evidence the pregnancy was real. “I think hearing the actual numbers made me rethink things. If they weren’t so high…”
Where exactly was that line? If the doctor had said the chances of losing the pregnancy were one in a thousand, would he want her to have it done? One in a million?
He wasn’t sure. But a hundred to one. That wasn’t a risk he was willing to put Hannah through. Not for the selfish reasons he had.
“Maybe later on,” she said. “An amniocentesis could carry fewer risks.”
“You’re not old enough to warrant testing for genetic defects.” He frowned. “Unless there’s something in your family.”
“No. And the donor didn’t list any kind of problems.” She hesitated. “Is there anything in your family?”
Was there? Greg had no idea. He’d long since given up on the idea of having kids, so he’d never bothered checking his family tree for inheritable conditions. Although he seemed to remember reading that myeloid leukemia—his sister’s illness—could be caused by a defective chromosome in about thirty percent of cases. Hell, something he’d never even bothered to think about. Selfish bastard. All he’d worried about were the ramifications to his own life if he were the baby’s father. What about the ramifications to the child’s life?
“My sister had myeloid leukemia. If I’m the father…” His voice trailed away. Hell, what if he’d passed on some kind of time bomb?
“Is myeloid inherited?”
“I think it can be.” He thought about it for a second. “I’ll see a geneticist and ask about testing.”
Hannah’s face drained of color. “Oh, God. Even if there is a test, it could take weeks or longer to get the results.”
He took her hand and squeezed. “I’m so sorry. If I could take it all back, I would.” He’d had strange, uneasy dreams about that night ever since. He’d wake up drenched in sweat, wanting her with a fervor that shook him. Worse was when he reached for her upon waking, only to find the other side of his bed empty. Cold.
And now this.
“It’s not your fault.” She gave him a shaky smile. “I’ve often wished that night had happened a whole lot earlier, or later. But I was taking hormones and they…well, they probably affected my thinking.”
In other words, if she’d been in her right mind, she’d have never had sex with him. Fantastic. And that made him feel a whole lot better, because he had no excuse, other than having had the hots for his beautiful PA almost from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Even as a patient, there’d been something special about her, something that drew him.
Hiring her had been a mistake. He’d felt it at the time but had figured the attraction would fade. He’d felt a twinge of lust for a woman from time to time. It never lasted. And that attraction had certainly had never made him lose his head before.
“Are you sure it wasn’t just my charismatic personality that did the trick?” He’d been abrupt with her when she’d brought him coffee that fateful day. He wasn’t sure making a joke was the right thing to do under these circumstances, but it was all he had.
“That was probably it.” She lifted her brows and regarded him for a moment or two. “What ever happened to the desk?”
Heat sifted up Greg’s neck. So she had suspected the real reason he’d swapped it. Not that it had helped. The white pickled wood—so different from the rich mahogany of the previous desk—still seemed to be burned with the image of Hannah splayed across it.
And come to think of it, she rarely ventured into his office nowadays, whereas before, hardly a day had gone by that she hadn’t brought him coffee or stopped to chat about a patient. He used to be irritated by her apparent lack of boundaries, like the impulsive hug she’d given him when they’d still been patient and doctor—something his sister might have done.
His reaction to Hannah’s embrace, however, had been anything but brotherly. But as much as she confused him and caused him to forget himself, he found he missed those daily visits. And as for that old desk…
“It’s in storage.” He hadn’t quite been able to get rid of it entirely. The men had offered to haul it to a consignment shop, but he’d balked at the last second and instead rented a unit in one of the pricier, climate-controlled facilities. He figured he’d take care of it by the time the next rental payment was due.
“Oh.” Hannah’s face turned a delicate shade of pink. “Well, I guess I’d better get dressed. I’m sure you need to head back to the office.”
“I don’t have an appointment for another couple of hours.” He hadn’t been sure how long these initial obstetrician visits took, and he hadn’t wanted to leave in the middle of it. Not that he’d even needed to be here in the first place.
Yeah, he had. He’d needed to hear the risk factors in person, and to see Hannah’s reaction to them. He’d come away certain of one thing. She wanted this baby. Who was he to jeopardize that possibility?
And if he’d passed on some defective chromosome? Could he handle seeing his child go through the same thing his sister had endured somewhere down the road? He didn’t think so, but that wasn’t his choice to make. It was Hannah’s. And he wouldn’t have given up knowing his sister for anything. Her steadfast solidarity—after he told his father of his decision to go to med school—had been his rock during a time of seething turmoil and anger.
Hannah’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Unless you want me to get dressed in front of you, you might want to wait outside.”
Ah, okay, so that’s what she’d been getting at by telling him to go back to the office. He needed to pull himself together. Something about this woman made him say and do things that were completely out of character. “Sorry. I’ll…go. Out there.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door.
“I drove, so why don’t I just meet you back at the office?”
A wave of tension he hadn’t even been aware of rolled off his shoulders. “Do you want me to send the doctor back in?”
“That’s right. I forgot about her.” She paused, her eyes going to his. “You’ve never talked about your sister before. Did she…?”
“She didn’t make it.” The sorrow from years past gathered in his throat, and he had to swallow hard.
Hannah took his hand again. “I’m so sorry. How long ago?”
“About ten years.”
“So you weren’t a doctor at the time?”
He sighed, not liking the way her hand wrapped around his or how natural it felt. “I was in med school when she was diagnosed. It happened faster than anyone expected.” It was ironic that the very profession she’d encouraged him to pursue hadn’t been able to help her in the end.
“And yet you specialized in oncology. Isn’t that hard?” The compassion in her eyes was hard to face. And yet it wasn’t pity, simply a deep understanding. Of course. How stupid of him. Hannah had traveled the same road as his sister, only her illness had veered down a different fork and had had a much better outcome.
“It’s why I specialized. My sister was my biggest cheerleader when I decided to become a doctor. It seemed like the best way to thank her.” Why he’d blurted that out, he had no idea. He’d never told anyone his reasons for going into this particular field, not even his parents—although they probably knew.
“Of course.” The words were soft, carrying a hint of surprise, as if she’d just figured something out. “I need to get dressed.”
She let go of his hand, leaving an emptiness in its wake that he didn’t like. This was ridiculous. Even if she ended up carrying a human being that contained his D.N.A., that didn’t change their relationship. He was her employer, nothing more. And he’d yet to decide what he would be to her child—if it was even his. And that was pretty unlikely. At least he hoped it was. Because if that was the case, his life could go on unchanged, continue exactly as it had for the last ten years.
As he went through the door, he knew he was telling himself the worst kind of lie. His life—no matter what the outcome of any paternity test—would never be the same again.
* * *
“Itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout…”
The sing-song tune—coming from the next aisle over—was followed by the quick giggle of a child. Hannah couldn’t stop her lips from curving at the cheerful sound, despite her confused jumble of thoughts about Greg, his sister’s cancer and her own pregnancy.
As Greg had shared about his reasons for becoming an oncologist, memories of her own terrifying struggle had roared back to life, swamping her with memories of pain and fear. Those fears had stayed with her for the past week, refusing to seep away like they normally did. Maybe because she was now responsible for someone other than herself.
She’d come into the cavernous baby supercenter on a whim, hoping to replace the bad emotions with happy ones. But standing in the middle of the store, she’d been overwhelmed by the quantity of paraphernalia surrounding her. A chaotic jumble. Just like the feelings she’d been trying to escape.
That tiny giggle did what her own frantic attempts to tame her fears couldn’t: turned everything right side up so it could settle back into place. That happy laughter was why she’d wanted to get pregnant…why she was willing to go through all the doubt and uncertainty of being a single mom. She wandered over to where the sounds of singing continued and found a young mother, her dark hair shining as she leaned over a fancy baby stroller.
Hannah could almost imagine the woman’s fingers walking up her child’s belly as the song continued and another happy shriek filled the air, followed by the mom’s light chuckle.
Hannah’s smile widened. That would be her someday. At least, she hoped it would. But at the moment the thoughts of illness and fear still seemed terrifyingly real. Her hand went to her stomach, which at the seven-week point hadn’t begun to expand yet. But she knew the baby was there. She might even get to hear its heartbeat at her next scheduled appointment.
In the week since her initial check-up, Greg hadn’t said anything else about his sister’s illness or whether or not he’d spoken with anyone about testing, and Hannah was afraid to ask. She finally understood why he’d thrown himself headlong into his work. Doing what he hadn’t been able to do for his sister. No wonder he wasn’t involved with anyone. He was like a monk…someone who’d thrown aside his own creature comforts in order to seek a higher purpose in life.
And what of this child, if it was his? How could she expect Greg to change who he was? What he wanted out of life? She couldn’t. Another reason she’d come into the store today.
She wanted to be able to spend a few moments not thinking about the horrible possibilities and just enjoy being pregnant—but the thoughts had followed her inside. A year ago she’d wondered if it would even be possible for her to have a baby. And yet here she was. Expecting one. The thought should make her happier than she’d ever been.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Some of the tension left her. And as she watched the mother and baby interact, a sense of rightness washed over her. Nothing else mattered at the moment. She’d live for the here and now. Worrying about the future was futile, as she’d learned through her own fight. She couldn’t change the outcome, could only do her best to optimize her chances for survival.
That’s what she’d do for this baby, as well. She couldn’t change what might or might not happen in the weeks or years to come, but she was making an effort to eat right and to do what she could to stay healthy in the present. She’d worry about the other stuff as it came up.
The mom, a few yards away, suddenly looked over her shoulder as if sensing someone was watching her. “Sorry,” she said, her smile big. “I didn’t realize anyone could hear me.”
When she straightened, Hannah realized the woman not only had a baby in the stroller but that she appeared to be pregnant again, as well. “I was enjoying your baby’s laughter. I just found out I’m expecting.”
“So am I. Congratulations.” The woman nodded at her own stomach. “My husband couldn’t be here for his daughter’s birth, but we’re hoping he’ll be home for this one.”
Hannah’s mind was working on the first part of that statement, when the young mother explained. “He was deployed to Iraq. I found out I was pregnant with her—” she reached into the carriage to stroke the child’s head “—right after he left.”
“I’m glad he’ll be here for the new baby.”
The woman laughed again. “Me, too. I didn’t get to yell any profanities at him during labor.”
Hannah smiled. “Who was with you?”
“My mom. Cussing your mother out isn’t quite the same.” She shook her head. “And, no, I didn’t.”
“I didn’t think you did.” Hannah didn’t want to think about the fact that her own baby’s father probably wouldn’t be there for the delivery either. Definitely wouldn’t be if it was the donor’s child, but even if it was Greg’s, she couldn’t see him wanting to be there for such an intimate event. The more businesslike they kept things the better for both of them. Something in her chest started aching all over again at the thought.
She’d chosen this route, and she would not allow herself to regret it now. And, honestly, she didn’t. Not knowing the father’s identity made life a little bizarre at times but she wouldn’t go back and undo the pregnancy, even if it was a result of that night.
“I hope your pregnancy goes well,” the woman said.
“Thank you. I hope yours does, too.”
The baby in the carriage started to fuss, tiny mewling cries replacing the happy laughter from a few moments earlier. “Sorry,” she said. “I have to get moving or she’s going to let loose. I just came in to pick up some diapers, but couldn’t resist looking around for a while. Unfortunately, big sister is getting hungry.”
“I understand completely. I’ll let you get back to it.”
As the woman moved away from her, the sound of soft singing again floated through the air as the young mother tried to hush the child’s cries. A wave of longing went through Hannah. That’s what she wanted for her newborn. Not the baby daddy drama she was currently embroiled in but the simple happy singing of a mother to her child. She touched her stomach as if she could somehow transmit some of the woman’s joy to her own child.
She started walking again, whispering, “Hey, baby. Be happy, okay?”
But Hannah neither heard not felt anything within her, except a deep sense of loneliness that grew steadily stronger with each step she took.