Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe

A few years ago, she’d signed up with a service that matched parents and birth children, in case her daughter ever wanted to find her. About a year ago, she’d received a call.

Olive’s beloved adoptive parents had died in an accident while she was in college. Engaged to a marine, pregnant and temporarily alone while he served overseas, she’d sought to connect with the woman who’d given birth to her.

As soon as they met, they’d become best friends. From her flashing brown eyes to her sense of humor, Olive seemed like a younger sister. Even the parts of her that came from Ned, like her dark hair and slim build, were a gift, in Heather’s opinion. The man was a fool who’d lost much more than he’d taken.

She could never regret having this daughter and granddaughter, no matter how much they’d cost her. And she knew her parents, who’d met them at Christmas, no longer regretted it, either.

There’d been plenty of speculation at Doctors Circle last fall when Heather, without explanation, took two months leave to coach Olive through the birth and spend time with her afterward. Office gossip attributed her absence to pique at Jason’s appointment, and she’d done nothing to correct the impression. It made as good an excuse as any, since she had no intention of subjecting her painful past to the scrutiny of others.

Afterward, the pair had come to live here while John wrapped up his service. Olive, who’d grown up only an hour’s drive away in Los Angeles, had finished earning her degree at nearby Serene College. This month, she’d taken her last final and completed her work. Soon, John would be returning.

Heather didn’t want to think about how much she was going to miss living with her daughter and granddaughter. Strange as it seemed, she enjoyed having her once-tranquil living room crammed with a playpen and toys and she loved being called Mom, an honor Olive had spontaneously bestowed upon her. She hoped the new family would settle nearby so she could watch every step, literally and figuratively, of Ginger’s development.

“Mom!” Olive sprinted into the living room. “I’m so excited! John wants to get married as soon as he arrives. He can’t bear to wait, and neither can I! We’re going to have our wedding next month.”

“I’m pleased for you.” Relief was Heather’s first reaction. She’d never met her future son-in-law in person, and until now had had only Olive’s assurances that he was loving and rock-solid. Thank goodness John hadn’t turned out to be a cad like Ned.

“It’s been so lonely with him gone, and now we’ll be together all the time.” Joy made Olive shimmer as she sang, “Here comes the bride! Big, fat and wide! Not!”

Despite Heather’s happiness for her daughter, reality intruded. A little less than three weeks. That was all the time they had until John returned.

“How will we ever be able to put a wedding together?” she cried. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a spoilsport and I know Amy managed hers in a week, but I have no idea where to begin.”

Amy and Quent Ladd had married quickly in order to gain custody of his orphaned niece and nephew. They’d been assisted by Amy’s highly capable Aunt Mary, who’d offered the use of her large home for the ceremony and reception. This town home, despite its vaulted ceiling and graceful design, wasn’t nearly big enough, in Heather’s opinion.

“You’re such a worrier,” chortled her daughter. “We’re going to get married at a Las Vegas wedding chapel. The only guests will be you and John’s parents from Texas. You’ll bring the baby home and watch her for me during our honeymoon, won’t you? We’re going to celebrate right there in Vegas.”

“Of course,” Heather said.

Olive performed an impromptu dance that made Ginger laugh. “Your daddy’s coming home! I’m going to be a bride!”

“You need a dress,” Heather said.

“John told me to pick out a ring, too.” Olive started for the kitchen again.

“Where are you going?”

“To call my friend Julia to help me shop. I know how impatient you get in stores,” her daughter said. “Don’t argue. I’ll let you see what I choose before I make the final decision, okay?”

“All right.” Despite her sense that the mother of the bride ought to have a finger in every pie, Heather knew that after one hour in the mall, she’d start tapping her foot and biting her nails. “Leave the baby with me while you shop.”

“Julia would have a fit. She’s always complaining that she doesn’t get to spend enough time with Ginger.”

“Babies don’t make good shopping companions. She’ll get restless,” Heather warned.

“We’ll take lots of breaks,” Olive said. “Don’t fuss over me, Mom. Not that I really mind. Gosh, you’re so much like my mama used to be, I almost feel like she’s here.”

“I’m sure she is.” Heather felt a deep gratitude to the woman who’d raised Olive. “She’ll always be here in your heart.”

Her daughter’s eyes got suspiciously bright. She hurried to stuff supplies into the diaper bag. By the time she whisked Ginger out the door, Olive was dry-eyed and eager to look for a gown.

After the door closed, the two most precious people in Heather’s life were gone, if only for a little while. The sparkle vanished from the air.

“So this is what empty-nest syndrome feels like,” she told the silent house. “It’s not as if I’d spent twenty years being a mother. I shouldn’t make such a big deal of it.”

With a sigh, she bent to pick up the scattered toys that had accumulated on the carpet along with bits of lint and shreds of paper. They must be transporting themselves here from an alternate universe, because Heather had never figured out where all this stuff came from.

The doorbell rang. Olive had forgotten something, which wasn’t surprising in view of her rush. Pushing a flyaway strand of hair from her forehead, Heather went to answer the door.

The dark-haired man who filled the doorway regarded her with amused curiosity. “Just getting up, at this hour?” he asked.

Uncomfortably, Heather realized what a picture she must make. After rising early to feed Ginger while Olive slept, she’d showered and thrown on a sweatsuit that resembled pajamas. Although she’d brushed her hair, that was many hours and diaper changes ago.

Jason, by contrast, looked as if he’d strolled out of a magazine ad. It was positively indecent the way his polo shirt stretched across his broad chest and his jeans hung low across his hips. It looked as if one tweak would be enough to make the snap give way.

Stop thinking like that! “I’m getting a head start on my spring cleaning,” Heather improvised. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m house-hunting and got curious about where you lived.” With a swift motion, he plucked a wisp of paper from her hair. “Did you hold a confetti parade through your premises this morning?” He peered past her into the entryway.

With a jolt, Heather realized that if she opened the door any further, he’d see the playpen in the living room and the high chair visible through the doorway in the kitchen. Not to mention assorted toys and parenting magazines.

“Yes, I had a parade, and that’s why you can’t come in,” she said tartly. “There’s horse poop everywhere.”

Jason’s smile turned into a grimace. “That’s the weirdest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“For what?”

“For keeping me out.”

“Women make a lot of excuses for keeping you out, do they?” Heather said. “The truth is, as you can see, I’m in no shape to receive company.”

He composed his features into a semblance of injured innocence. “I’m simply looking for ideas about what kind of place to rent.”

“That’s easy. Don’t rent, buy,” Heather said. “That’s what I’m going to do as soon as I save the down payment.” If she hadn’t been repaying student loans until the previous year, she’d have purchased a house long ago.

“If you’re planning to close the door on my foot, it won’t work,” Jason said. “I’m wearing heavy shoes.”

“Why would I need to close the door on your foot, since you’re going away?”

He edged closer. “I just want to take a look at the layout of your town house. I’ve been thinking of renting here in the development.”

Dismay squeezed the air from Heather’s lungs. Jason, living in her complex? That would mean running into each other at the mailboxes and the pool. He’d see her in her bikini. What was worse, he’d see Olive and Ginger.

“You’d hate it,” she said. “It’s noisy.”

“It seems quiet today.” Sure enough, the only sounds were birds twittering in a tree and the hum of a car passing on the street. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Dropping the noise angle, Heather shifted to a more promising topic. “You should check out the area where Amy and Quent Ladd live, near the beach. It’s much more suitable for a single person.”