Mother's Day Babies (Holiday Babies Series) (8 page)

Barbara studied the oval face
with high cheekbones and pouting lips. Dark lashes fringed baby-blue eyes simmering
with anxiety.  

“Monica, I know you went through
a difficult time. Are you in pain now?”

“Not really, not like before.”
The young woman peered at Barbara, studying her.

“The nurse told us they will do a
c-section soon. You’ll have a beautiful baby, Monica. Nothing in the world
beats the feeling of holding your own child.”

Monica’s lips pinched and her
eyes filled with tears. Barbara bent and caressed her forehead. “Everything
will be all right. We’re here to take care of you.”

“Thank you,” she mumbled. Big
tears rolled on her face.

“Why are you crying now? The
worst is over. We won’t leave you alone, I promise.” Her mother’s instinct
alerted her to be cautious, yet she bent and kissed Monica’s cheek. The young
woman sobbed.

“What is wrong, Monica? You can
trust me, sweetheart.” Barbara kept stroking the young woman’s forehead.

“Can’t keep....” Monica’s sobs
escalated and she cradled her belly.

“You will keep your baby,”
Barbara reassured her.

“I can’t... I can’t.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”
Trying to decipher the words from the sobs, Barbara bent closer to her.

“I want to...”

“Monica, sweetie, any young woman
is emotional at the birth of her first child. You’ll see. Later, when you’ll
expect another one you’ll be much calmer. Here have a tissue and calm down. All
this emotion is not good for the baby.”

 The future mommy obeyed and blew
her nose, then held Barbara’s gaze for a moment.

“I’m expecting two,” she stated,
her voice as mournful as if she was announcing her death penalty.

“Pardon?” Barbara’s eyes widened.
Had she heard wrong?

Monica raised her index and
middle fingers, a peace sign that heralded anything but peace now.

“Twins?” Good God, that really
complicated things.

“Yes, twins. Two boys.” Monica
threw her a challenging look.

How on Earth would a twenty-two
year old raise two babies when she didn’t have any job, any income, any
support? No wonder the girl was crying.

Barbara straightened and glimpsed
Lou’s figure not too far behind her. She frantically wiggled her hand behind
her back to keep him from interrupting.

“I understand why you’re so
worried,” she gently said. “It will take a lot of work on your part and you’ll
need a lot of support, but you still can take care of your babies,” she added,
hoping Monica would be as determined as Roxanne to do the right thing and keep
her children.

“No, I can’t keep them.” She
burst into tears again and hiccupped. “They’re not mine. I’m just a surrogate
mother.”

Barbara’s arms dropped to her
side. Behind her, Lou growled.

Chapter Seven

Before Lou had any time to shoot
his own questions, the nurse came in and wheeled the bed. “We’re ready for you,
Monica.”

Like a drunken zombie, Lou
followed the gurney to the big door marked DELIVERY. He’d never attended a
delivery and didn’t know what to do, where to go.

“You can’t continue, sir. Only
the husband is allowed in there. Parents should go to the waiting room. We’ll
inform you when we have news.” The big door closed behind his daughter and
future grandsons.

There was no loving husband. Only
a sleazeball who’d taken advantage of his daughter’s stupidity. Rooted in
place, he fisted his hands against his sides and stared at the word, DELIVERY.

His heart had somersaulted when
he’d heard she was expecting twins. Two little boys. He’d always wished he
could have a son. An unexpected joy had trumpeted inside him. He’d taken a step
forward, ready to forgive and help for the sake of two innocent babies. And
then his new hopes pummeled and crushed at Monica’s next words.
A surrogate
mother
.

“Lou,” Barbara grabbed his arm
and tugged him away. “Let’s go.” Deep in his thoughts and dejection, he let her
draw him to the waiting room.

“A surrogate mother,” he repeated
as he slumped onto a chair. “What does it mean, Barbara? Why has she sold her
body to carry other people’s children? Why has she done such a crazy thing? Why
waste her figure and risk her health for strangers?” He torpedoed every
question without waiting for answers.

Sitting on the sofa close by,
Barbara held his hand and squeezed it. “Don’t torture yourself. Maybe she had
her reasons at the time. Maybe she needed the money. She’ll have to explain.”

“I’ve never denied her money.
Why?” He raked and pulled at his hair with nervous fingers. If he kept at it,
he’d soon be bald.

“I don’t know. We can’t judge her
without listening to her.”

“What am I supposed to do now?
Surrogate
!”
he muttered under his breath. “You’re a woman. Tell me. What does this word
entail?” Unable to remain confined in his chair, he sprang up and paced the
room.

“I’m not sure myself. I read an
article about it in a woman’s magazine.
With artificial
insemination, the male’s sperm is used to impregnate the surrogate mother by
direct deposit into the female’s reproductive tract.” Her calm tone contrasted
with the worried frown knitting her forehead.

Lou stopped in his
tracks next to the side table and banged on it. “I hope she didn’t.” His mind
revolted at the mention of the clinical words. Revulsion stirred his last meal
in his stomach. “For heaven’s sake, shouldn’t a child’s creation be the product
of marriage, or at least of a man and a woman’s love or attraction for each
other?”

“Of course, I agree
with you. I’m just telling you what I remember from the article on surrogacy. The
other type is when the egg resulting from a couple’s sperm and ovule is
implanted in the surrogate mother—”

“So
my
daughter is just a
paid container
?
Is that what you’re saying?” Raw
pain contorted his insides. “In that case, she can’t be my daughter. No
daughter could ever do that to her father.”

Barbara stood and wrapped her
arms around him. “You’re hurting, Lou. I hate to see you suffering so much, but
let’s not judge her. She looked so pretty and vulnerable in that bed.”

“Her mother was pretty too and
knew how to use her beauty to manipulate everyone. If only she’d had a tenth of
your integrity and compassion,” he growled, cursing the events that had
interrupted the beginning of his new relationship with Barbara.

How on Earth had
sperm
and
insemination
replaced
kiss
and
feelings
in their
conversation? To think Barbara had melted in his arms the night before, and now
they were discussing the subject most apt to smother any passion they felt.

Barbara gently caressed his
cheek. “Lou, I was just explaining what I read. I don’t know much about the topic.”

Afraid to hold her and lose his
rational mind when he needed it most, he eased away and wiped his forehead. “I
feel ridiculous.” His taut voice grazed his own nerves. “As the director of an
info network, I should have known the abc of these surrogacy procedures.”

He fumbled with his phone and
punched a number. “Roxanne,” he bellowed. “I want a full report on surrogate
mothers.”

****

Barbara jerked toward him. What did
her daughter have to do with this mess? Didn’t she have her hands full at the
moment with all her interviews, her official get-together at night, plus
entertaining her husband and organizing her children? Like a mother hen,
Barbara was about to protest.

“I know you can’t spare a minute
now.” Lou’s voice lowered to a more conciliatory tone and Barbara suppressed a
smile. Roxy wasn’t one to let anyone step on her toes, not even her boss.

Lou continued to bark orders. “Put
one of your junior reporters on this project and ask for top priority. I want
to know the procedures, legal matters, prices, with actual examples of success
and failure...as soon as possible... Yes tonight or tomorrow. Thank you.”

He turned toward Barbara, calmer
now that he’d done something active. “I can’t wait like a lamb for things to
happen. I have to be prepared, although I don’t know for what.”

“Come let’s have a lunch at the
cafeteria.” She glanced at her watch. “We have plenty of time. Twin babies
don’t just pop out so easily.”

“What do you mean? Is she in any
danger? Can the babies be in trouble?” The big director was really out of his
league here.

No need to scare him with mention
of toxemia, blue babies, jaundice, and other similar problems she’d experienced
firsthand. “This clinic specialized in deliveries. I’m sure they have top-notch
doctors. They’ll be fine.”

“But you said...” He almost hurt
her fingers in his strong grip.

“Lou, I was just saying it takes
time for babies to be born.” She’d have to watch her words. As jumpy as a live
wire, her companion fidgeted with his phone.

“Maybe I should call my lawyer.”

“For what?”

“We’ll need a lawyer soon. In
case, the kids are not hers and she needs to put them for adoption. Anyway, I
don’t see how she can raise two of them when she couldn’t even take care of
herself.”

“Wait till the babies are born.
Don’t speculate now, please.”

“Sure. Let’s eat. I could use a
drink too.”

She arched her eyebrows. “We’re
in a hospital. We’ll have coffee.” At the cafeteria, he filled a plate with
lasagna and steaks. She had a salad, and steered him to a table in front of a
wide TV screen, hoping that the international news may distract him while they
waited.

Lou’s head kept on swiveling
toward the door. No one came.

When the special news from Europe
filled the screen, Lou watched intently. “Barbara, look here is Roxanne
interviewing the French First Lady.”

Her mother’s heart burst with
pride. “She’s amazing isn’t she?”

“Yes, an excellent reporter. I
had high hopes of Monica doing the same.”

Oh dear, nothing would cheer him
up today.

“Sir, Ma’am.” Out of the blue,
the nurse stood in front of them, a big smile on her face. “You have two
beautiful grandsons.”

“Congratulations, Lou. You’re a
grandpa.” Barbara jumped to kiss him. “I’m so happy.” Honestly she was as happy
as if one of her daughters had just delivered. “Thank you, nurse. How is the
mother?”

“Still in Recovery. She’ll stay
here for a couple of days until we’re sure she’s feeling better and has no more
signs of toxemia. The babies are in the NICU. 5.3 lbs and 4.2 lbs, a little
small but healthy otherwise.”

“Can we see them?” Barbara
glanced at Lou who remained stunned in place, his gaze hazy and his lips
parted.

“Of course.”

After the nurse left, Barbara
cast Lou an expectant glance. “Let’s go see your grandsons.”

“No. I’m going back to the hotel
to have a strong drink, and wait till we talk to Monica. Be realistic, Barbara.
I don’t want to have high hopes and see them crushed again.”

Disappointment filled her heart.
Family and children topped her priorities.

****

Four hours later they were back
at the clinic and were directed to the private room Monica occupied per Lou’s
request. He’d put her on his insurance when she was a child and Jennifer had
been smart enough not to interfere.

The picture of perfect motherhood
that greeted them twisted a knife in Lou’s heart. Her back raised against
pillows, Monica held two blue bundles, one on either side. Tears rolled on her
cheeks, yet she was smiling and cooing to the newborns. “I love you, little
ones. You’re mine. I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

“Congratulations, Monica.”
Barbara bent and kissed her forehead. “You babies are adorable.”

“I think so too.” The young woman
beamed. “Thank you, Mrs. Ramsay.”

“Aren’t they precious, Lou?”
Barbara nudged him with her elbow.

“Yes, very precious.” Tenderness
and anger warred in his heart.

He’d love to hold the tiny
bundles but Monica would never allow it. Heck, she’d never hugged him and drew
back the few times he’d tried to kiss her when she was growing up. Eventually
he gave up trying. “Who is the father, Monica?”

Her smile instantly disappeared.
She glared at him and pressed the nurse’s button.

So what’s new
, Lou mused.
They’d never had a decent conversation. Either she cried and lamented and asked
for help, or cursed and insulted and upset the hell out of him. How could she
be his daughter? Years ago, he did the right thing protecting his feelings and
accepting their estrangement.

The nurse arrived. “Time to take
the babies.” She lifted them one after the other and laid each one in a glass
bassinet. “Call me when you’re ready to sleep.”

Monica cast him a cold look, and
mumbled, “Soon.”

Upset he crossed his hands behind
his back and braced himself for more infuriating behavior. If she wanted him to
help her, she’d better answer a few questions. “We need to talk.”

Barbara caught his gaze and
blinked several times. “Easy. I’ll do it,” she mouthed, urging him to calm
down. He nodded and backed up near the window, not trusting himself to keep his
cool if Monica answered him with her insolent tone.

Barbara settled at the edge of
the bed. “Did you choose names for your babies?”

“Not yet.” Monica’s lips quivered.
“I don’t know if they’ll let me. I don’t know if they’ll come to claim the
babies.” She caught Barbara’s fingers between hers. “Please, Mrs. Ramsey, can
you help me keep them?” Irritation twisted Lou’s gut. Ungrateful shit. She
asked a stranger, a woman she’d just met, rather than her father.

“Your dad and I will do our best
for you and the babies. But we can’t do it without having some information.”
Her tone firm, his wise friend stroked the young mother’s hands. “Who are these
people? What are their names?”