The Brennan Baby

“This is no laughing matter, Gillian,” Mark scolded.

“Then let’s find a matter to laugh about.”

“In Dr. Brennan’s defense, he would have to be psychic to guess that Ashley is his daughter,” said Carmen, sticking to the subject anyway. “After all, Gillian never even told him she was pregnant. Nobody would know who Ashley’s father is, not even us, if she hadn’t let us in on the deep dark secret.”

Gillian sighed. “I wish I’d never mentioned his name to anyone,” she muttered.

“You couldn’t keep it to yourself, Gilly,” Carmen said kindly. “And you did the right thing. As soon as you found out about the baby, you engineered that marriage of convenience to Mark.”

Mark blew Gillian a kiss, and the mood in the room lightened considerably. “Anything to help my favorite foster sister.”

“She’s your favorite foster sister?” Carmen feigned indignation. “What about me?”

“Did I say she was my only favorite?” teased Mark. “You’re both my favorites. Along with Debra and Stacey and Suzy and—”

“Okay, okay, we get it,” Carmen interrupted good-naturedly. “You have lots of favorite foster sisters.”

“I only hope I don’t have to marry them all.” Mark stroked his dimpled chin, looking pensive. “Even when it’s on paper only, a marriage is kind of hard to explain to my friends back in L.A.”

“I can imagine,” Carmen said, with feeling. “Even a cover marriage makes me want to run away screaming.”

“Gillian and I had a very amiable cover marriage and an equally friendly divorce,” said Mark. “But, oh, the teasing I’ve had to take about it! You simply can’t imagine!”

“Well, it’s all over now, and I’m sure you won’t have to endure any other cover marriages, Mark,” Gillian soothed. “At our ripe old age of twenty-six, I’m surely the only one stupid enough to—”

“You weren’t stupid, you were in love,” Carmen cut in. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Gillian.”

“Don’t make excuses for me.” Gillian crossed the room to flop down on the sofa beside Mark, her favorite foster brother who had done her the incredible favor of marrying her in name only to give her child a legitimate birth. As one who’d been born out of wedlock, Gillian had determined years ago that she would never let a child of hers bear that stigma. Mark had understood completely. His mother hadn’t been married to his father, either.

“Well, stupid or in love or whatever, Devlin Brennan was definitely a willing participant, Gillian.” Carmen’s dark eyes flashed and she nuzzled the top of Ashley’s silky head. “And it’s not fair that you’re assuming total financial responsibility for the baby. At the very least, that...that yango should be handing over a check every month to you for—”

“No!” Gillian exclaimed so forcefully that Mark jumped. “I don’t want any charity from him. I’ve had enough of being a charity case, thank you very much. I have no intention of letting my daughter become one.”

“It wouldn’t be charity, but I know where you’re coming from.” Mark reached over to pat her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Gilly. It’s going to be okay.”

How? Gillian wanted to cry. How could it possibly be okay if she had to contend with seeing Devlin Brennan every day, if she had to watch the parade of women through his apartment and his life? She stared fixedly at the olive green carpet until the weave seemed to blur and dance in front of her eyes.

The firmly suppressed memories escaped from the prison in her mind where she’d kept them locked away for the past twenty months. For a few moments she was swept back to the time she’d shared with Dev. Those three months had been the happiest, most exciting, thrilling, romantic time of her life.

But there had been a dark side that always shadowed that idyllic period. All during their too-good-to-be-true romance, she’d felt scared and insecure, not really believing that a man like Devlin Brennan could want a woman like her. Could want her! She’d always known their relationship was temporary, had been braced for the inevitable end. Something too good to be true generally turns out to be exactly that, and of course, her erstwhile romance with Dev had come to an abrupt end.

That she’d ended it herself was merely a technicality. She had read the warning signs and acted first, that’s all. She was well aware that wanting something or someone you can’t have was not only a waste of time and emotion, it was self-destructive.

She and Carmen and Mark and a few others among their many foster sisters and brothers had managed to develop a finely honed sense of their own self-preservation, but she’d seen far too many others who hadn’t. When you didn’t anticipate rejection, it arrived as a devastating surprise, breaking your heart and your spirit. Though rejection remained painful when expected, at least the hideous element of surprise was eliminated. Knowing what was coming gave you a chance to take some control, to avoid the passive victim role. To Gillian, that meant a lot. It meant everything.

So she’d broken up with Dev before he could break up with her, and she hadn’t looked back. Not until now.

Now unleashed and unbidden, a hundred images tumbled through her mind, all images of Devlin Brennan. Dr. Swoon, Mark called him. Cool, good-looking Dev was definitely a man to swoon over. He had thick, dark brown hair and deep blue eyes framed by dark lashes and brows. Gillian pictured him smiling, frowning, looking thoughtful. Looking amorous. His face was more than merely handsome, his slightly irregular nose and full generous mouth made it interesting, as well.

She remembered the sound of his laugh, the way he closed his eyes when he was about to kiss her. How he looked when he stepped out of the shower, water sluicing over his hard, muscular body. At thirty-one, he still had the wiry athletic build of the track star and swimmer he’d been throughout his high school and college years.

Gillian swallowed dryly as the video in her mind continued to play, featuring Dev as the leading man. He was extremely intelligent, but he tended to downplay it. Though he’d never mentioned the facts himself, others had told her that Devlin Brennan had graduated near the top of his medical school class and was now winning rave reviews as a senior orthopedic resident at the medical center. He had a laconic sense of humor and a gift for making friends. His smooth sexuality was a natural draw to women, guaranteeing him anyone he wanted. For a brief time he’d wanted Gillian...

“Mama, mama!” Ashley squealed, and Carmen carried her over to Gillian who took the baby on her lap.

“I think Mama is the only word you know, isn’t that right, cutie pie?” Mark playfully asked Ashley.

“She’s only eleven months old and she makes lots of sounds and knows the meanings of some other words,” Carmen chided, coming to Ashley’s defense. “You can’t expect her to recite the Gettysburg Address.”

“Carmen, honey, I don’t expect anyone to recite the Gettysburg Address,” said Mark.

“‘Fourscore and seven years ago...” Carmen promptly launched into a complete recitation Gillian and Mark applauded when she finished.

Carmen bowed. “I had to memorize it in sixth grade or lose recess privileges. Since recess was the only part of school I liked, I learned it fast.”

“I can sing the entire score of ‘My Fair Lady,’ ‘The King and I’ and ‘Camelot,’ just to name a few,” boasted Mark. “Shall I?”

“You wouldn’t dare!” shrieked Carmen.

Gillian laughed, caressing Ashley’s thick dark brown hair, so like Devlin’s in color and texture. She gazed into the baby’s gorgeous blue eyes, which were alert and bright and framed by dark lashes and well-shaped brows. Just like Dev’s.

Ashley was a pretty baby who would grow into a strikingly attractive woman, her good looks her father’s legacy to the daughter he would never know. From the moment she’d realized she was pregnant, just a week after engineering her preemptive breakup with Devlin, Gillian had been convinced secrecy was her only option.

But now—

A knock sounded at the door, abruptly ending their laughter.

“What if it’s him?” whispered Mark.

“We’ll deal with it,” Gillian said firmly.

She started to the door, Ashley in her arms. “We can’t sit in here cowering every time there is a knock at the door.”

Brave words, but her heartbeat was hammering in her ears. When she opened the door to see Dev, his brother-in-law, and a beautiful young brunette standing between them, her pulses speeded into overdrive.

“Hi.” Devlin smiled at her.

Gillian immediately recognized his social smile, the one he bestowed on the public at large. Having once been the recipient of his private, intimate smiles, she could tell the difference and felt oddly cheated by this impersonal one.

“We’re taking a break and going out for a late lunch,” said Dev. “Would you like to join us?”

“You’re all invited,” Cade said heartily, his gaze sweeping the room. “My treat.”

Gillian cast a questioning glance at Devlin.

“My brother-in-law is a real neighborly sort of guy,” Dev drawled. “Even toward my neighbors.”

“I’m Kylie Austin, Devlin’s sister.” The young woman spoke up, smiling at Gillian. “Your baby is adorable.”

“Thank you.” Gillian studied Kylie. Her resemblance to little Ashley was startling. The same coloring, the same delicate features, plus the distinctive dark Brennan hair and blue eyes. It wasn’t hard to imagine Ashley looking like her aunt Kylie when she was all grown up. “It’s nice to meet you,” Gillian said politely. “And thanks for the invitation, but we’ve already eaten ”

“Is there anything you need?” Cade persisted. “From the store for the baby?”

Gillian looked at him, feeling a sickening wave of anxiety chum within her as she observed Cade staring fixedly at Ashley. It was as if he knew! But he couldn’t be aware of her baby’s relationship to Devlin Brennan, she silently argued. Dev himself didn’t know.

“We don’t need anything.” Gillian knew she sounded nervous and tried to cover it by smiling widely. “But thank you for asking. I appreciate neighborliness.” Her face felt as if it might crack, her smile was so wide. “Uh, goodbye.”

She started to close the door. To her relief, Kylie and Cade started to walk toward the elevator But not Devlin.

“Gillian.” He angled his way to stand in the doorjamb.

“What?” She hadn’t meant to snap, but that’s how it came out.

“I feel I should explain.” Devlin smiled wryly. “My brother-in-law is one of those take-charge types who feels compelled to take charge of whoever he happens to be around. When he sees a young woman with a child, he feels he should offer them food or something, I guess.” He shrugged.

“You want to make it clear that this invitation wasn’t your idea? Duly noted.” His insouciance vexed her, though she knew she should be feeling relieved. Whatever Cade Austin’s suspicions, Dev clearly had none. Gillian sucked in her cheeks. “I don’t need anything from you or your brother-in-law.”

She started to close the door, despite Devlin’s solid presence there. Perversely, he didn’t move, not even when the edge of the door was touching him.

“I’m trying to close this door,” Gillian said crossly.

“I noticed.” Dev crossed his arms and relaxed against the frame, as if oblivious to the door pressing against him. “I wonder how determined you are. Will you give up and wait for me to leave? Or are you going to try to slam the door shut with me in it?”

“Gillian is not a violent person,” Mark piped up. “Never fear, she won’t close you in the door.”

Devlin seemed to notice Mark for the first time. “And you are?”

“Hoping you’ll leave, Dr. Brennan,” Mark replied sarcastically.

“You’re keeping your sister and brother-in-law waiting.” Gillian heaved an impatient sigh. “And you’re keeping us from...from—”

“Listening to the score of ‘My Fair Lady,’” Carmen called. “So get lost, Devlin. Now!”

“Sorry for interrupting.” Devlin looked down at Gillian, who assiduously avoided his eyes. But the baby grinned at him and flexed her little fingers.

“Are you trying to wave goodbye, little lady?” Impulsively, Dev offered her his finger and she closed her small fist around it. “Can you say ‘bye-bye’?”

“Ashley makes lots of sounds and knows the meanings of some words but the only one she actually seems to say in context is Mama,” Mark said, sauntering over to join them at the door. “Not that she’s stupid or anything, but she’s not even a year old and you can’t expect her to recite the Gettysburg Address, now can you?” He subjected Devlin to a scorching once-over, his gaze lingering on certain strategic areas.

“No, indeed,” agreed Devlin hastily, his eyes widening. “Well, see you around, I guess.” He disengaged his finger from Ashley who was trying to carry it to her mouth to sample.

“Say bye-bye to your new neighbor, Ashley,” cooed Mark.

“Ba,” said Ashley.

“Not bad.” Devlin patted her tiny arm. “Close enough to ’bye. Keep practicing, Ashley, you’ll get it.”

He left, and Gillian quickly slammed the door shut. The sound reverberated throughout the hall

“I think Dreamy Doctor Devlin was afraid I had designs on him.” Mark was scornful. “He is hot, I’ll grant you that, but I would never fall for the rat who abandoned my pregnant sister!”

“He didn’t abandon me,” Gillian came immediately to Dev’s defense. “He didn’t even know I was pregnant.”

“And now he’s living right across the hall from his own secret child!” Carmen moaned. “I can’t believe it. It’s a coincidence that only happens in a soap opera, but somehow it’s happened to you, Gilly.”

“And after all you did to keep Ashley a secret from him, it’s a coincidence that strikes me as a particularly unfair twist of fate,” said Mark.

“Nothing new there,” Carmen said trenchantly. “Since when has fate been anything but unfair to the likes of us?”

“I think we’ve been incredibly lucky,” Gillian countered, carrying Ashley to the toy-filled playpen by the window. She set the baby in it, handing her a bright scarlet teddy bear. “We all ended up at the Sinsel foster home, didn’t we? That was a fantastic stroke of luck. We found each other there and became like a real family—probably better than a real family because they can’t choose their relatives, but we did when we chose each other.”

“Oh, no! Not her Pollyanna routine again.” Mark groaned. “Carmen, stop her, please, I’m starting to feel queasy.”

Gillian smiled at his dramatics. “You know I’m right.”

“I know you’re optimistic to the point of dementia at times,” Mark retorted. “Is it any wonder why we got a divorce?”

The three of them laughed, and little Ashley watched them, chiming in with her own merry squeal.

“We’re lucky to have each other,” Carmen conceded. “But having Devlin Brennan living so close to Ashley is like that fairy tale where the uninvited wicked fairy crashes the party. Something bad is sure to result. That brother-in-law of his already has me spooked. The way he was staring at the baby, the way he asked if you needed anything...” Her voice trailed off. “It was like he was ready to accept you as a family responsibility. As if he knows the truth about Devlin and Ashley, Gilly.”

“There is no way he could know a thing,” Gillian insisted, refusing to listen to her own anxiety expressed aloud.

“Unless he’s psychic.” Carmen’s dark eyes grew round. “What if he is?”

“What if he isn’t, but happens to be very familiar with Devlin Brennan’s past history?” Mark speculated. “Suppose Ashley isn’t the first little Brennan crawling around unacknowledged by her daddy? Maybe the handsome doctor is a walking sperm bank with kids by different women all over the place. Those children could be instantly recognizable to the brother-in-law because he knows to look for them.”

“A multitude of Brennan spawns! Sounds like something out of that movie Village of the Damned, where all the kids looked alike.” Carmen shuddered. “Of course, they were aliens, but still!”

“I can see it’s time for me to reel you both back from the tangents you’ve gone off on.” Gillian rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m absolutely certain that Cade Austin is not psychic and I’m equally sure that Devlin Brennan hasn’t populated the world with his look-alike offspring. In fact, nobody suspects anything except you two, whose imaginations have always been way too active.”

“You hope,” Mark said darkly.

Gillian shot him a quelling glance. “I’m going to move out of here as soon as I can find another place. But while I’m in this apartment, I refuse to live in a state of panic wondering what Devlin Brennan or his brother-in-law might or might not know. The truth is, neither of them know or care anything about Ashley or me.”

“Dadadadada,” Ashley sang as she tossed her toys around the playpen.

“She said ‘Dada,’” Carmen gasped. “It’s like she knows we’re talking about her father!”

“Carmen, if you say Ashley is psychic I’ll confiscate your deck of tarot cards and your palm-reading instruction book.” Gillian was stern “You’re starting to take that paranormal stuff way too seriously.”

“I’m sure the baby is just babbling,” Mark said tactfully. “It’s not as if she knows any word for daddy. Or what a daddy is, let alone who he is.”

“Join the club, Ashley. Daddies fall into the category of unsolved mysteries for all of us.” Carmen looked glum.

Ashley pulled herself to her feet by hanging on to the bars of the playpen and threw the red bear over the side. “Dada,” she pronounced forcefully.

“Bear,” Gillian corrected, handing her the toy

“Gilly, you said you haven’t seen Devlin since you broke up with him.” A worried-looking Carmen was unable to let the topic drop. “Suppose seeing you again starts him thinking and he starts counting backward. Suppose he notices that Ashley looks just like his sister, not to mention himself. I bet our little Ash is a dead ringer for their baby pictures.”

“I honestly think the brother-in-law has already realized that,” added Mark.

“I honestly don’t,” Gillian was quick to refute. “Anyway, Devlin Brennan is too interested in having a good time with all his friends and admirers to give Ashley or me a single thought”

“You hope again,” Mark muttered under his breath.

Gillian heard him. “I know he won’t,” she said firmly.

Two

Gillian was wrong.

Devlin did think about her, especially when he was alone in his apartment, right across the hall from hers. His mind would drift from the plot of “I Dream of Jeannie” or “Three’s Company” or whatever rerun was airing on TV to ponder why Gillian had ended their relationship so abruptly, so irrevocably, all those months ago.

He acknowledged that he had done his part to keep the split irrevocable. After Gillian told him it was all over between them—offering only a maddeningly ambiguous “this isn’t working out” as the reason why—he hadn’t said a word or done a thing to make her change her mind. He hadn’t called her or attempted to see her.

Was that what she’d expected him to do? To go crawling to her, begging to be allowed back in her life? The prospect appalled him, and he rejected it now as he had then. But suppose he had made one phone call to her in the days following their breakup? Just one. A single phone call hardly constituted crawling or begging. Twenty months later, Devlin finally conceded that point.

He frowned, remembering the night she’d called it quits. After dropping her bombshell, Gillian had gone home, leaving him alone to absorb the shock. And what a shock it was... For the first time in his charmed, blessed, golden life he’d been dumped!

Compounding his woe was his lack of anyone to share it He didn’t consider confiding anything about the breakup to any member of his social circle. Why bother when he could easily predict their responses?

The attitude of the jaundiced nonromantics in the group would be a cavalier “so what?” The others would proclaim that it was about time he felt the sting of rejection, that everybody else in the world had been dumped at one time or another and now, finally, it was Devlin Brennan’s turn.

He could have told his sister. Kylie definitely would’ve provided sympathy, but she might have expected him to cry on her shoulder while she offered words of solace and advice. That was too ghastly to contemplate. He was the big brother, ever cool, ever confident, and he wasn’t about to relinquish his own image of himself.

So he’d opted for silence, answering the occasional question about Gillian Bailey with a nonchalant, “Haven’t seen her for a while.” Everybody who knew Devlin Brennan knew what that meant—he had moved on to another woman. Details weren’t requested or supplied.

“For every man who breaks hearts, there is a woman who is his match,” declared Holly Casale, his friend since their early med school days, who was currently completing her residency in psychiatry here at the hospital. Devlin did not appreciate her diagnosis or prophecy or whatever that cryptic observation of hers was supposed to be.

He didn’t consider himself a heartbreaker; he simply wasn’t ready to settle down, a point he made to any woman who tried to assume otherwise. He was honest and up-front about his commitment to staying uncommitted, which was hardly characteristic of those deceptive smoothies who deserved the title of heartbreaker.

As for Gillian breaking his heart, that premise was laughable. His heart hadn’t even been bruised by her rejection, Dev assured himself. He’d set out to prove that being dumped wasn’t the trauma all those sad songs and movies and books proclaimed it to be.

He forgot all about Gillian Bailey. He continued with his life, which was full and busy with his fourth-year residency in orthopedics, a specialty that continually fascinated him, with his many friends and with various women who provided him with sex whenever he wanted it

Funny how he hadn’t wanted it lately.

That was because he was taking a hiatus from sex, Devlin reminded himself. He’d seen some therapist-guru on a talk show who extolled periods of chastity as time to recharge energy and creativity. Dev didn’t run that particular theory by Holly, but decided that his body had chosen to be chaste for a while.

Didn’t he feel more energetic and creative?

Seated in front of his television set, Devlin proceeded to channel-surf through eighty-six channels, pointing his remote like a divining rod. Nothing caught his interest, and his thoughts drifted back to Gillian.

He allowed himself to admit that in spite of his busy, full life he hadn’t completely forgotten about her. He’d given her an occasional thought during the past twenty months When he had learned about Gillian’s marriage, only a couple weeks after their breakup, he had been stunned. It stood to reason that she must have been dating her future husband all the while she’d been with him. Or maybe her three-month fling with him had been a rebound romance for her, something to pass the time until the groom-elect came through with a wedding ring.

Either notion rankled.

Dev vaguely recalled getting drunk with some of his buddies around that time and referring to Gillian as a “two-timing slut.” The memory, dim as it was, now made him cringe because it implied that her quickie marriage bothered him, and of course, it had not. He’d had a good laugh when Holly Casale told him that he was “in denial” and ought to acknowledge his repressed feelings.

Repressed? Him? Devlin had found the “shrink jargon” hilarious and told Holly so. As a would-be Freudian, she’d shaken her head silently and tried to look inscrutable.

His thoughts circled back to Gillian. Who was now divorced. Obviously she’d shed her husband with the same hasty ease she had acquired him. And now she was a single mother with a baby girl.

The baby, little Ashley. He wasn’t the type to go ga-ga over babies, but she was very cute. Cade, his brother-in-law, had certainly been captivated by that baby. He’d mentioned her several times over their weekend visit and yesterday, too, when Kylie had called to get an old friend’s address.