The Surprise Triplets

“What I need is tea.”

“I’ll get it.”

“Never mind.”

This was ridiculous. “We aren’t enemies,” he said. “Melissa, tell me what I can do.”

“I don’t want your help.” Were those tears in her eyes? “And it’s just a touch of morning sickness. Gone already.”

Perhaps, yet her distress troubled him. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. And if I change my mind about the tea, I’ll ask Caroline.”

Damn, she was hardheaded. “Surely we can find common ground and give each other a break,” he said. “I’ve been dealing with family matters...I could use your insights. And in your situation, you shouldn’t be too quick to reject an offer of friendship.”

He’d phrased that badly, he saw when her chin lifted defiantly. “I have plenty of friends. What do you mean by ‘my situation,’ anyway?”

“You haven’t mentioned the father.” Oh, hell, he was making matters worse. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

“There is no father.”

She hadn’t fallen in love with another man. That discovery brought some comfort, but Edmond also found it disturbing. How desperately she must want a child to undergo insemination by an anonymous donor.

She was awaiting a reaction to her statement. If she expected reassurances, he had to disappoint her. “Is that fair to the child? Fathers matter.”

“I have guy friends,” she told him. “Guys who think kids are precious.”

“Friends aren’t family.” Nor did she have any other family, unfortunately. Her parents had died years ago, and her younger brother had drowned as a toddler.

“Lots of women raise children alone,” Melissa flared.

Edmond was glad the color had returned to her cheeks, even though it was an angry red. “In any case, nothing I say matters. Your baby is your priority now.”

“That’s right.”

They’d reached an impasse, and the end of this conversation. Edmond didn’t offer to shake hands, which might force her to rise. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“You’re determined to attend the wedding?” she asked tightly.

“As I said, I already accepted.” If she could be stubborn, so could he. On the spur of the moment, he added, “I’ll be bringing a plus one, by the way.”

“Suit yourself.” She faced her computer, dismissing him.

In the outer office, Edmond paused at Caroline Carter’s desk. An attractive young woman with a smooth dark complexion and a romance novel partly visible on her lap, she regarded him brightly. “Yes, Mr. Everhart?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, my... Melissa could use some tea. Her stomach’s bothering her,” he said.

“I’m on it,” she responded. “And welcome to Safe Harbor.”

“Glad to be here.” He exited into the main-floor hallway, where he was engulfed by the chatter and bustle of personnel heading for the cafeteria. Despite the flat lighting and the smell of antiseptic, he liked this place. The air hummed with the enthusiasm of people dedicated to their work.

It had been a rocky meeting with his ex-wife. But they’d accomplished an important task: clarifying that they stood as far apart as ever.

* * *

EVERY MINUTE CLOSER to lunch, Melissa felt nearer to starvation, and today’s cafeteria special had been posted as chicken enchiladas with guacamole, a favorite of hers. Nevertheless, her friends would spot her frayed emotional state the moment she sat at their table, and she wasn’t ready to field questions.

Why was Edmond so stubborn about the wedding? And why had she overreacted? She hadn’t intended to demand that he skip it.

When he’d observed that pregnancy suited her, a wall inside her had started to crumble, and his strong presence had reawakened a longing to lean on him. What an absurd idea, and yet he’d been her rock after her parents’ sudden deaths in an accident, and she needed someone to talk to right now.

But when he’d pushed her away, it stung, revealing a vulnerability Melissa had believed long vanquished. How could she still have feelings for the man who’d broken her heart?

Considering his dismissive attitude toward fatherhood, he had a lot of nerve, criticizing her decision. Is that fair to the child? Fathers matter. As if she hadn’t taken that into consideration.

In fact, she’d been reluctant to undergo artificial insemination. Melissa had questioned how she would explain to a child later that its father had no involvement, indeed no awareness of its existence.

Then a couple of in vitro clients to whom she’d grown close had faced a dilemma. After bearing healthy triplets, they’d been left with three unused embryos. Due to a difficult pregnancy and with three children to raise, they’d decided against another pregnancy. Instead, they’d resolved to donate the embryos.

Recalling an earlier conversation with Melissa, they’d offered the little ones to her. With her, they’d insisted, they wouldn’t worry because they had confidence she’d be a wonderful mother. But they’d also been in a rush to settle the matter and told her if she didn’t seize the chance immediately, they’d select another recipient.

Her physician, Dr. Zack Sargent, had noted the potential physical complications of a multiple pregnancy but, in view of her general good health, he’d given his approval. When she’d solicited the opinions of her housemates and a few dinner guests, Anya’s fiancé, obstetrician Jack Ryder, had said that frozen embryo transfers at Safe Harbor had about a fifty percent success rate. That statistic reinforced Melissa’s assumption that at most she’d bear twins.

She’d also received enthusiastic support from Karen. Divorced and in her early forties, her friend had no plans for children of her own but loved being around babies. Another housemate, male nurse Lucky Mendez, had advised Melissa to follow her heart instead of obsessing about everything that could go wrong. Only ultrasound technician Zora Raditch had been dubious, but then, Zora had accidentally become pregnant with twins after having breakup sex with her faithless ex-husband, so her opinion of men and maternity was understandably jaundiced.

It had felt like fate. Then all three embryos had taken. And now here I am, hurting because the man I used to love won’t accept me the way I am. What a waste of energy.

Annoyed at her weakness, she picked up the phone and put in a call to Rose’s Posies. As her wedding gift to Jack and Anya, she was providing the bouquets for the bride and for two flower girls, as well as for one of Anya’s sisters, who was flying in from Colorado to serve as maid of honor.

The shop owner, Rose Nguyen, answered on the fourth ring. “I’ll go check to be sure my daughter has all in order,” she said after Melissa explained she was calling to confirm the arrangements. “Hold for Violet, okay?”

“Thanks.” Melissa smiled at the name of Rose’s daughter. Like her mother’s, it was sweetly appropriate.

She stretched her legs, slipped off her pumps and rested her swollen feet on a stool beneath the desk while making a mental note to buy larger shoes. Preferably before Saturday, to go with the flowing silk caftan she’d found at the Gently Used & Useful thrift shop.

Heat flooded her at the realization that, flattering as the lavender print dress might be, it emphasized her girth. She’d been rather proud of that until Edmond mentioned bringing a date.

Who was it? The legal secretary or the receptionist from his office, a friend from L.A., or a new acquaintance? She’d probably be pretty, smart and slim.

Melissa shook her head at her insecurities. Take Lucky’s advice. Stop obsessing.

On the other end of the line, someone picked up. “Ms. Everhart?” It was Violet. “Let me review the order with you to be sure we have everything as you requested.”

“Good idea.”

A few minutes later, as they finished talking, Melissa’s stomach quivered. No, that wasn’t her stomach. She clamped her hand to her abdomen. The babies were moving. Although they’d been visibly active during a recent ultrasound, she hadn’t been able to feel them.

Her tests had revealed three girls, but until now they’d remained figures on a screen. This fluttery sensation filled her with wonder. My daughters are playing.