The Doctor's Secret Baby. Teresa Southwick
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“Who wants to know?” Cal asked.
Em knew by the tone he was annoyed and had a pretty good idea why. If she’d been in his shoes it would tick her off that her child went easily to someone else and treated her like a serial killer. But that couldn’t be helped.
“Cal, this is Lucy Gates. Lucy, meet Dr. Cal Westen.”
The teen looked from one to the other, then at the child in her arms. “FOB?”
Cal frowned. “Friends of Bill?”
“Father of baby,” Emily translated.
Nodding, he studied Lucy. “And you are?”
“One of my girls,” Emily said, and knew from his skeptical expression that an explanation would be necessary. “This five-unit building was donated by Ginger Davis of The Nanny Network. With grants and donations, I run a program that mentors and houses teenage mothers. It’s called Helping Hands and assists young women who have nowhere else to go. They help each other raise their babies while getting an education. Children can’t be taken care of if their mothers can’t take care of themselves.”
Cal slid his fingertips into the pockets of his jeans. “You don’t look old enough to have a baby,”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t,” Lucy snapped back. She studied him warily. “My son’s name is Oscar.”
“I see.”
“Right.” The teen made a scoffing noise. “You don’t have a clue. Just like my folks.”
This wasn’t going at all well, Em thought. “Lucy, he’s just—”
“Judging,” she snapped. “Like everyone else.”
“How did your parents judge?” he asked.
Lucy’s expression was a combination of hostility and hurt that she tried desperately to hide. “They threw me out when I got pregnant. Didn’t want anything to do with a grandchild. Doesn’t get more harsh than that.”
“She and Oscar had nowhere to go,” Emily explained.
The girl reminded her of herself all those years ago. When her mother gave her the ultimatum to give up her baby or get out. So, she got out. At first. But after weeks on the street, she knew she loved her child too much to subject it to that kind of life and went home, forced to make a horrible choice. Now she was trying to help young girls who were facing the same choice and give them another option.
But it was time to change the tone of this meeting. “Cal is a pediatrician,” she explained to the teen.
“So you take care of kids?” Lucy asked.
“I handle pediatric emergencies at Mercy Medical Center,” he said.
“So you don’t do well-baby stuff? Shots and all that?”
“You need a regular pediatrician for ‘stuff.’”
“So what good are you?” Lucy asked.
“If your baby has head trauma or a high fever, I’m your guy. Not so much the long-term care.”
Em had never thought about it before, but even his choice of medical specialty highlighted an aversion to commitment. That didn’t matter for her. Not anymore. But she wouldn’t let anyone hurt her daughter. As long as Cal could commit to Annie she had no beef with him.
“Where’s Oscar?” Em asked.
“With Patty.”
“That’s her roommate,” Em explained to him. “The girls share living quarters in the apartment next door and trade off child care while working and taking classes for their GED or college credits.”
“Good for them.” Cal folded his arms over his chest.
Lucy sized him up, then handed Annie back to her. “I heard the dude knock on your door and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Thanks,” Em said, taking a firm hold on the little girl who was holding out her arms again for the teenager. “It’s fine. I appreciate you checking up on us.”
“No problem. It’s what we do,” the teen said, giving Cal a pointed look before opening the door. “Catch you later, Em.”
When they were alone again, his expression was even more hostile. “That was fun.”
“She’s a good kid.”
“The good part I’ll have to take your word on. Kid I could see for myself. My specialty is emergency care from birth to eighteen. She’s young enough to be one of my patients and needs classes in birth control.”
With their baby in her arms, she glared at him. “People who live in glass houses…”
“Okay.” His expression turned wry. “Point taken.”
“You weren’t very nice to Lucy. I never knew you to be deliberately rude.”
“I never had a child who treated me like I had cooties and preferred a stranger,” he defended.
“Lucy isn’t a stranger to Annie.”
“She is to me.”
“That’s childish.”
“But honest,” he snapped.
“Unlike me.”
“You said it, not me.”
A guilty conscience needs no accuser. “Look, Cal, that’s just the way it is. You can take it out on everyone or deal with the situation. Continue to punish me, or get to know your daughter. What’s it going to be?”
“She’s my child. And it’s time she got to know me.”
“Good.”
He settled his hands on lean hips, a gunfighter’s stance. “And you’re going to help me.”
“What does that mean?” she asked warily.
“You’re going to be around while Annie and I get acquainted.”
He was right. She couldn’t just dump the baby on him because it would be too traumatic for them both. Emily realized that she should have seen this coming, but the truth was she hadn’t. When she got the message that he’d never commit, the silver lining was not having to see him and hurt like crazy because he didn’t want her the same way she’d wanted him. Ironically what broke them up was also the same thing that forced them back together.
Annie.
Emily knew what it felt like to be vulnerable and alone. Unlike FOB, she didn’t plan to do that again and figured to pick and choose the people she let close to