straight from work, though he’d left his jacket in the car or back at the office. Narrow hips, accentuated by the tailored cut of his pants, extended into long legs and leather loafers with tassels. He’d rolled up his shirtsleeves, revealing sun-bronzed forearms covered with a sprinkle of dark hair. His hands were large and had too many nicks and scars to look as though they belonged to a pencil-pushing ad executive, but his nails were short and clean. Macy expected him to be wearing a Rolex watch or some other expensive brand, but he wore a simple sports watch.
“It’s on the second floor,” he said, holding the door for her.
Macy glanced at the sign on the wall that listed all the offices in the building. “Are we seeing a general practitioner for this part?”
“No, Dr. Biden’s a gynecologist. She can do the pap smear and everything else today, which will save us some time.”
Pap smear? Did he just say ‘pap smear?’ Macy looked at him in surprise. Since when had men become so comfortable with this kind of stuff, so knowledgeable? She felt sure Richard wouldn’t have known a pap smear from a mastectomy, but it was the “everything else” Thad had mentioned that worried her. She’d lived a pretty tame life, sexually speaking, but after that one incident with the man from Studio 9, she had never been tested for AIDS. The thought made her uneasy.
“How did you decide on the doctor? Was this your wife’s OB or something?”
He nodded, and Macy felt a prick of sadness for all he had lost. She could easily picture him escorting his wife to the bank of elevators along the far wall of the turquoise and lavender lobby, just as he was doing with her.
The bell sounded and the doors whooshed open as a pregnant woman, who looked almost due, waddled up from behind, along with her husband or significant other. They all entered the elevator together, and Thad punched the button for the second level, then turned to the couple. “Dr. Biden’s, or another floor?” he asked.
The man put his arms around the woman and pulled her back against him. “Dr. Biden. We’re gonna have our first soon.”
“Congratulations.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” Macy asked.
“We weren’t going to look at the ultrasound pictures, but Ronny here couldn’t wait, so he looked, and then I hated being the only one who didn’t know, so I looked, too.” The woman gave her husband a playful punch. “It’s a girl.”
“What about you two? You have any kids?” the man asked.
Thad said no at the same time Macy said yes. They glanced at each other and reversed their answers, but before they could explain, the elevator arrived and disgorged them all outside the door to an office labeled Dr. Joan Biden, OB–Gyn.
“Good luck,” the pair mumbled, and hurried inside, having obviously lost interest in a couple who didn’t even know if they had any children.
Macy smothered a sigh and followed Thad inside. If it was this uncomfortable when she wasn’t pregnant, what was it going to be like to be seen with Thad when she looked as if she had a basketball stuffed under her shirt?
A hundred grand, she silently chanted. One hundred thousand dollars for Haley’s transplant. She could tolerate anything for Haley’s sake. She just hoped Thad wasn’t planning to accompany her to every doctor’s appointment. And, oh God, what about Lamaze classes? Would he insist on those?
“Ms. McKinney?”
Macy jumped up when the nurse said her name and tried to snag the clear cup she held out before the inevitable, “We need you to give us a urine sample, please.” But the words came, anyway, like a prerecorded message, and Macy felt her cheeks warm. Peeing into a cup was no big deal—except for the presence of Thad and his rapt attention. Was he going to be in the exam room when she graduated to stirrups and pelvic exams?
Refusing to look at him, Macy mumbled her compliance and ducked around the corner into the washroom. She had to talk to Mr. Winters about letting her do the doctor and hospital visits on her own, she decided. What if an unfamiliar nurse mistook their relationship and invited him into the delivery room? Worse, what if he expected to be present, to cut the cord and everything?
Suddenly, Macy realized there were a lot of aspects about their “business” deal they had yet to discuss. Just how involved Thad planned to be was top on her list.
CHAPTER FOUR
THAD PASSED OVER a Woman’s Day, Good Housekeeping and McCall’s magazine in search of a Sports Illustrated or even a U.S. News and World Report, but to no avail. He finally settled for Family Circle.
The doctor’s reception room was decorated in pink with silk flowers, a picture of a ballerina and a curio cabinet filled with Lladro. It looked more like a woman’s boudoir than a doctor’s office, but Thad was surprisingly comfortable in the feminine surroundings. He’d visited Dr. Biden’s many times with his wife. They’d done the ultrasound here and saw their baby suck his thumb. They’d sat in the doctor’s private office and discussed Valerie’s due date and delivery options. They’d joked with the nurses.
After his experience at the hospital yesterday, where the memories of Valerie had crowded in so close he could barely breathe, he’d expected a return to Dr. Biden’s to be painful for him. Instead, he felt the stirrings of excitement. This was the first step toward filling the vacuum Valerie’s death had created.
Settling back to wait for Macy, he thumbed through several low-fat recipes without any real interest. Then he found an article on how to make Play-Doh at home, and he sat up straighter. This was valuable information. He had no intention of his child missing out on anything for lack of a mother, so he pulled out his day planner and jotted down the instructions. He found several other articles he felt would benefit him, too—“Ten Nourishing Meals Kids Love” and “The Top Family Vacations in America”—and made a mental note to subscribe to a family magazine when he got back to the office.
Thad had long since finished with Family Circle and moved on to Elle, when the nurse finally appeared.
“Mr. Winters? The doctor would like to speak with you now.”
His heart skipped a beat as he stood and followed the pink-smocked woman down the twisting corridors. The exam had taken a lot longer than he’d expected. Did that mean Dr. Biden had found something wrong with Macy McKinney?
Sitting on opposite sides of a wooden desk strewn with folders and charts, Macy and the doctor were waiting for him in the small cluttered office Thad had visited before.
Macy shifted uncomfortably when he took the seat next to her but said nothing.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Thad,” Dr. Biden said, giving him a rueful smile.
Thad grinned at the middle-aged doctor. “You felt sorry for me, remember?”
“I still feel bad about what happened to Valerie, but I should have taken you more seriously when you called me a few months ago. What sounded good in theory makes me a little nervous in practice.”
“Don’t you think I’m ready to be a father?”
She looked at him over her wire-rimmed bifocals. “You’re ready. I just don’t know if the world’s ready to accept
