blue bloods? Well, I made a vow that Jamie’s life is going to be different. Yes, he’s a Hirst and a Wainwright, but I won’t let him grow up under a system where appearances count for everything. That kind of life might be desirable at first, but it ends up destroying you.”
“You feel like that’s what happened to you?” she asked quietly.
“Our whole families have been destroying themselves for generations to the point that they don’t have that human quality of giving and receiving affection. They don’t feel it.”
She looked up at him with eyes that were suspiciously bright. “But you’re nothing like that!”
The impulse to crush her in his arms was so strong, he forced himself to let go of her altogether. “I was on my way to being exactly like that until a client made a chance remark three weeks ago that opened my eyes.”
“What did he say?”
“He’d been offering his condolences and said there was nothing like a child to help you get over your loss. He obviously assumed I was the typical new father having to get up with him in the night for his feedings. But he didn’t realize he was talking to a Wainwright who’d come from a cloistered, upper-class aristocracy.
“You can’t imagine how I felt at that moment knowing Jamie was at my in-laws’ being taken care of by their staff and I’d let it happen. Worse, my own parents saw nothing wrong with it. But the real crime was the one I’d committed by letting him go home with them in the first place. By turning over my son’s life to the hired help, I’d virtually abandoned him.”
“But if you hated what your parents had done to you, then—”
“I know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated. At the time of Erica’s death, everything was murky. But standing here now next to my son, I see things so clearly it terrifies me that I was once that other man.
“The truth is, I could have called my father back tonight and told my parents about Jamie, but they wouldn’t have cared, and it wouldn’t have occurred to them to come to the hospital. They’ve been emotionally absent from my life for thirty-four years. That’s never going to change. My uncles, my cousins, they’ll never change, either.”
“Oh, Nick…I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“How could you possibly know? You come from another world. A real world.”
“At least Erica’s parents have been there to support you.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. They despise me.”
“Because you hired me?”
“No, Reese. My problems with them stem back to a year ago when Erica agreed to a divorce.”
“You divorced her?” She sounded shocked.
“Yes. We’d made one more stab at trying to patch up our two-year-old marriage, but it didn’t work. It wasn’t until after we separated that she told me she was pregnant. She moved back with her parents. I didn’t see her again until I got a phone call that she was on her way to the hospital. You know the rest.”
“So that’s why there was no nursery at the penthouse.”
“I let her have carte blanche decorating the apartment so she could entertain in style, but more often than not she stayed at White Plains. We lived apart much of the time, a situation that suited both of us. I know you can’t comprehend that.”
She kept her eyes averted. “It’s just so sad.”
“At the time it was simply the norm. When she died, I was devastated, but it was my guilt over our failed marriage that put me in a dark morass. I let them take the baby home. The problem is, Erica’s parents believe that Jamie—and all the money that comes with him as my heir—belongs more to them than to me after I’d damaged the family pride. It was a case of ‘it’s just not done.’”
He heard a little moan come out of Reese.
“You sound horrified. A normal person would be. But in my world, I’d broken the code of our social mores by divorcing her and was viewed as a revolutionary. Letting her parents keep our son for a time would look good on the surface. My parents would prefer it if things stayed that way. Anything to preserve the image.”
She shook her head. “How awful.”
“I debated telling you all this. It’s so messy and complicated and I’ll understand if you don’t want to involve yourself with it all. If you want to leave my employ, I’ll give you a check for the full amount we agreed upon. But I would ask you not to leave until Jamie’s on the mend.”
Leave him and the baby?
If only Nick knew what Reese was really thinking. Though the day would come when she would have to go, she would never be ready to give up him or the baby.
She sucked in her breath. “Don’t be ridiculous. The arrangement we made was that I wouldn’t go until the end of the summer. If you’re still in agreement, then let’s not talk about it again.”
Relief flooded her system when she heard him say, “Then we won’t.”
“Good. Right now your son needs us focusing on him and nothing else.”
No sooner had she delivered her words than Jamie woke up crying. Nick hurried around to the other side of the crib to pick him up.
“Does he still feel as hot to you?”
His dark eyes flew to hers. “Yes.”
That one word filled Reese with fresh alarm. Jamie’s temperature had been elevated for close to eighteen hours now. The IV was supposed to be doing its job.
They took turns holding him. The minutes passed. Another nurse came in to check on him. She left without saying anything to them. That really frightened her. This went on for another half hour. Then Dr. Wells walked in the room already masked and gloved.
He gave them a quick glance. “Sorry to hear your son’s been sick, Mr. Wainwright. Let me take a look at him.”
While Nick handed the baby over, Reese stood back to watch the pediatrician, thankful he’d come. In a minute he lifted his head.
“I’m going to have you start feeding him some formula. The nurse will bring it to you. Just an ounce at a time. He might throw it up at first, but you persevere and we’ll see if it finally stays down. I’ll be back later.”
The next hour was nightmarish with Jamie spitting up ten minutes after every ounce. She didn’t know how Nick was holding up. He’d taken over because of love for his child. That was the way it should be.
She folded the cots back up and put them away so there was room for the chairs. When she sat down next to him and the baby, the sun had come up. Though the blinds were closed, light illuminated the room.
Reese checked her watch. “Nick—do you realize he hasn’t thrown up for twenty minutes?”
His head lifted. “That’s definite progress.”
