Newborn Needs a Dad. Dianne Drake
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they’re supposed to.” Watching and protecting…the very same things she did for this baby she’d be delivering in a while. The same things she wished she had someone to do for her, which simply wasn’t in her future.
The hike to the cabin was pleasant, the air cool and brisk, but not as cold as it could have been for the last week of March. Along the trail, little purple and yellow crocuses poked their heads out of the remnants of the last snow, giving Gabby the hope that the full burst of spring was just around the corner. By the time that happened, she’d be a mother, settled in wherever she was supposed to be. “A mother,” she said, simply to remind herself. Sometimes she still couldn’t believe it. This little boy inside her was a dream coming true in a way she’d have never expected in a million years. Of course, now that she knew of Gavin’s death, she was a little sad. They hadn’t been romantically involved. Outside of what she’d seen of him as a doctor, she hadn’t even known him well enough to tell her son what kind of person his father had been other than smart, kind, considerate. Bryce did deserve to know, but what could she say? Your mother was feeling very lonely, and very vulnerable when she met a pleasant, handsome man at a medical symposium, spent a night with him and conceived you as a result.
Unfortunately, that’s all there was to the story. It had taken her weeks to find Gavin, and weeks to get up the courage to come tell him what had happened that one night they’d spent together. But by then it had been too late. Meaning there was nothing to add to the story and Bryce would never know his father. Gavin had no family in Spotswood, where’d she’d just visited. None that she could find. And no one there who could tell her about his family either. Sad for her son, sad for her.
Gabby stopped for a moment, and thought about picking a few of the flowers for her cabin, but decided to leave them as they were, a tiny bit of inspiration fighting against the elements. “You know we’re going to be fine,” she said to her unborn baby. “It’s just a little tough right now. I wanted you to know about him and I’m sorry I didn’t find him sooner. But we’ll work it out, just you and me, and I promise that if there’s any information available about him…” Information, but no father.
It wasn’t like she was afraid of raising a baby as a single mother, because she wasn’t. In fact, from the instant she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d been shocked, excited, scared, in awe after a lifetime being told, and believing, it wouldn’t ever happen to her, that she could not get pregnant. She’d been injured in a riding accident years ago. Too much scar tissue, the doctors had said soon after. Too little hope. When she’d been fifteen, that hadn’t really had much of an impact on her. When she’d turned thirty, it had. But she’d lived with it, accepted it.
Then, after all those years of believing, as the patient, and even as a doctor, that nothing could happen, she’d had the recurring feeling that maybe, just maybe she might be pregnant. Missed period one month and she’d convinced herself it was stress, that her job was demanding. Missed period the second month and she’d gone to the local pharmacy for a home pregnancy kit, then had sat it on the bathroom countertop and stared at it for three days before she’d opened it. After that she’d waited another two days before she’d actually gotten around to using it. Then, when that test strip had gone from pink to blue, she’d run, not walked, but run to the corner pharmacy, bought another kit, done another test. Then gone back to that same pharmacy one more time, one more kit.
A kindly pharmacist who’d seen her grabbing yet another test kit off the shelf had suggested she go see an obstetrician, and offered to make a referral if she needed one. But she was an obstetrician, and a very pregnant one, she was coming to realize. Also a very overwhelmed one. “Right now, your only problem is that your mother’s very tired. But I’m on my way to fix that situation immediately.”
Bryce Evans. Her miracle baby. She couldn’t wait for his arrival into the world. Nothing other than that really mattered. And she was so happy…
“Thanks for making a house call. We’re not busy right now, but with David out of town, it’s like I’m doing the work of a dozen different people and there aren’t enough hours in the day to get everything done that needs to be.”
Dr Neil Ranard handed the bottle of pink bubble-gum-tasting liquid over to Laura. They called it bubble-gum tasting, and he’d successfully convinced a number of his young patients that was the case, but to him it tasted like…medicine. Nasty, nasty medicine. “Just give her the dose listed on the label and she’ll be fine. There’s a sore throat bug going around the elementary school and Emily is one of the many. Also I’ll want to check her again in a couple of days, but she’ll be ready to come to the clinic by then.” Yes, he still made house calls. In a small town, that was possible, and he really liked getting back to personal medicine. Two years away had taught him so many things, but the biggest lesson learnt was that everything he needed was here. He was a small-town doctor, and that’s exactly what he wanted to be.
“Can you stay for dinner, Neil? I have only a handful of paying guests checked in right now, and I’m making enough food for an army. Can’t get out of the habit of cooking for a lodge full of people when the season shuts down, I guess.”
“Wish I could, but I really should get back. With Walt Graham retired now, and Eric Ramsey being tied up with the twins—they’re both down with sore throats—we’re a little short-handed in emergency. And I’ve still got a few appointments to take care of at the clinic before I go make hospital rounds. But thanks. I appreciate the offer.” At the White Elk Hospital and Clinic, he was the pediatrician, but family practice was also his responsibility, as well as covering Emergency when it was necessary, and doing the occasional mountain rescue. It was a varied job, and in such a small setting every doctor was called on to do pretty much whatever they had to. Medical convention aside, he loved it. Where else would he be so fortunate as to be involved in so many things?
“Can’t you wait five minutes, while I get something together to send back with you? It’s better than what you’ll get at the hospital, and you know hospital food is what you’ll end up eating.” She grinned. “Think about it, Neil. Institutional cooking versus home cooking.”
Home cooking, a luxury he hadn’t even had those months he’d been married. It sounded good, actually. Anything resembling a normal life sounded good. Otherwise, for him it would be whatever the hospital cafeteria special was. “OK, you’ve convinced me. Mind if I go sit in the dining room and pour myself a cup of coffee while I wait?”
Laura dismissed Neil with the wave of an unconcerned hand, and he ambled into the empty dining room, went straight to the service bar and poured his coffee, then took a seat by the window that gave him the best view of the Three Sisters. Magnificent view, and one he had so little time to admire these days. It was also the view that had drawn him back home, even when he’d vowed, almost three years ago, not to return. But he’d returned, in part because he liked skiing when he had the time. And the fresh air. Most of all, he liked the nice people. All that, and the exciting nature of his medical practice. Here, in White Elk, he had it all. Or most of it. Because the memories of his short-lived marriage were here, too. As were the memories of the day his wife had run off with his brother.
But the good outweighed the bad. That’s what he kept telling himself and maybe someday he’d even convince himself of it, because some of the memories were bitter. And forever unresolved.
Neil stretched out his long legs and leaned back in the wooden chair, trying to empty his mind of everything. Movement at the opposite end of the dining room caught his attention, though…attention in the form of one very pretty, very pregnant woman who was sizing up the various tables, obviously looking for one with the best view.
He studied her for a moment. She looked almost lonely, ambling from table to table the way she was, all by herself. And here he was, occupying the one with the view he knew she had to be looking for. Immediately, Neil sprang to his feet, and even thought to motion her in his direction, like he was the maître d’. But as he plucked his coffee mug up off the table and stepped away from it, she found her seat on the opposite end of the room, in a spot overlooking the town—all the shops, and the people bustling up and down the sidewalks.