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“I’m still arranging these. Go eat a corn chip.” Zora indicated a bag set out to be transferred into a large bowl.
“I’m a vegetarian.”
“Corn is a vegetable.”
“Corn chips do not occur in nature,” he responded. “Just one carrot. Pretty please.”
She flipped it toward him. He caught it in midair.
“Try the closet in my bathroom for the covers,” Karen suggested to Lucky. “Top shelf.”
“I have permission to enter the inner sanctum?” he asked.
“It expires in sixty seconds.”
“Okay, okay.” He paused. “Before I run off, there’s one little thing I should mention about today’s guest list.”
Zora released an impatient breath. “What?”
“I invited Betsy.”
“You didn’t!” Keeping her ex-mother-in-law in the dark at work was one thing, but around here the babies’ paternity was no secret.
Karen turned toward Lucky, knife in hand. “Tell me you’re joking.”
He grimaced. “Sorry. Spur-of-the-moment thing. But your motto is the more the merrier, and besides, Betsy’s a widow. If she’s interested in renting a room, that would solve all our problems.” With a carroty crunch, off he went.
“Unbelievable,” Karen said.
If she hadn’t been so huge, Zora might have given chase. She could easily have strangled Lucky at that moment. But then they’d have to find two new housemates.
“I’d say the cat’s about to claw its way out of the bag,” Karen observed. “Might as well seize the bull by the horns, or is that too many animal metaphors?”
“Considering the size of the rat we live with, I guess not,” Zora growled.
Karen smiled. “Speaking of rats, if you’d rather not confront Andrew-the-rodent yourself, don’t forget you can hire Edmond to do it.” Edmond Everhart, their former roommate, Melissa’s husband, had been Zora’s divorce attorney.
“That’ll only create more trouble.” Zora scraped the onion dip from the mixing bowl into a container on the relish tray. “Andrew’ll put me through the wringer.”
“If that’s your only reason for not telling him about the babies, I’d rate its validity at about a three on a scale of ten.” Karen trimmed the crust from a sandwich.
Zora dropped the spoon into the mixing bowl with a clunk. “He’s the only man I ever loved. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Zora, what benefit of what doubt?” Karen retorted. “He dumped you in high school, married someone else, then cheated on her with you after he ran into you at your class reunion. Let’s not forget that he then cheated on you with what’s-her-name from Hong Kong. Why on earth would you entertain the fantastical notion that Andrew will ever transform into a loving husband and father?”
With a pang, Zora conceded that that was exactly what she did wish for. While her rational mind sided with Karen, the infants stirring inside her with a series of kicks and squirms obviously missed their father. So did Zora.
“It can happen,” she said. “Look at Melissa and Edmond. Three years after their divorce, they fell in love again.”
“They’d quarreled about having children. Neither of them cheated on the other,” Karen persisted. “Andrew can’t be trusted, ever.”
She spoke with the ferocity of a divorcée who’d survived an abusive marriage. It had taken more than a decade for Karen to trust a man again. She and their housemate, Rod, were still easing into their relationship.
“People can change.” Despite a reluctance to bring up her family, Zora wanted Karen to understand. “Did I mention I have a twin?”
“Really?” Leaning against the counter, Karen folded her arms. “Identical or fraternal?”
“Identical.” Zora wasn’t about to reveal the whole story, just the important part. “But we quarreled, and we aren’t in touch anymore. All I know of her is what Mom passes along.” Their mother, who lived in Oregon, loved sharing news.
“Go on.” After a glance at the clock, Karen resumed her food preparation.
“Nearly ten years ago, Zady ran off with a married man.” Zora inhaled as deeply as she could, considering the pressure on her lungs from the pregnancy. “They live in Santa Barbara. He split with his wife and now he’s devoted to Zady. They have a beautiful house and a couple of kids.”
“Was there a wedding in there?” Karen asked dubiously.
“I’m sure there was, although she didn’t invite me.” The rift had been bitter, and there’d been no move toward reconciliation on either side. In fact, her mother said Zady had chuckled when she’d learned about Zora’s divorce.
“So the guy married her, and you believe that if lightning struck your twin, it can strike you, too?” Karen murmured.
Zora’s throat tightened. “Why not?”
“Because Betsy’s about to arrive with her antennae on high alert. If I’m any judge, that woman’s dying to be a grandmother.”
“And she’ll be a terrific one.” The elder Mrs. Raditch did all the right grandmotherly things, such as baking and crocheting, a skill she’d taught Zora. “But...”
“You’re running out of buts,” Karen warned. “Unless you count Lucky’s.”
“I don’t!”
“The way you guys battle, you’re almost like an old married couple.”
“We’re nothing like a married couple, old or otherwise.” Zora could never be interested in a man with so little class. Outside work, he flaunted his muscles in sleeveless T-shirts and cutoffs. While she didn’t object if someone had a small tattoo, his body resembled a billboard for video games. On the right arm, a colorful dragon snaked and writhed, while on the left, he displayed a buxom babe wearing skimpy armor and wielding a sword.
Whenever she pictured Andrew, she saw him in the suit and tie he always wore as an international business consultant. He had tousled blond hair, a laser-sharp mind, sky-blue eyes, and when he trained his headlight smile on her, Zora understood why some poor fools became addicted to drugs, because the euphoria was irresistible.
At the image, vague intentions coalesced into a firm decision. “Andrew’s the man I married. This...this liaison with what’s-her-name is an aberration. Once the kids are born and he holds them in his arms, what man wouldn’t love his own son and daughter?” And their mother.
Even Zora’s own father, a troubled man who’d cheated on her mom, had stuck around while his kids had grown up. Well, mostly—there’d been separations and emotional outbursts that left painful memories. But there’d been tender times, too, including a laughter-filled fishing trip, and one Christmas when her father had dressed up as Santa Claus and showered them with gifts.
She longed for her children to experience a father like that. With Andrew’s charm, he could easily provide such unforgettable moments.
For a minute, the only sound was the chopping of a knife against a cutting board as Karen trimmed crusts. Finally she said, “So you plan to hold it together until then, alone?”
“I have you guys, my friends.” Zora struggled for a light tone. “All I have to do is stay on an even keel.”
“Like a juggler tossing hand grenades on the deck of a sinking ship?” On a platter, Karen positioned sandwiches in a pyramid. “Well, it’s your decision.”
“Yes, and I’ve made it.” Zora studied the relish tray through a sheen of moisture. Andrew would come around eventually. He had a good heart, despite his weak will.
“I’m happy to report that I found the chair covers and they look fine.” Lucky’s deep voice sounded almost in her ear, making her jump. “What do Neanderthals know, anyway?”
“Speaking of Neanderthals, how dare you sneak up on me?” she snapped. “I could go into labor.”
“No, you won’t.” The corners of his mouth quirked.
“How would you know?”
“I’m a nurse, remember?” he said.
“Not that kind of nurse.” He worked with a urologist.
“Pregnancy care is part of every nurse’s basic medical training.” His expression sobered. “Speaking of medicine, you’re sure Cole’s coming today?”
Dr. Cole Rattigan, the renowned men’s fertility expert Lucky assisted, had been away this past week, speaking at a conference in New York.
“He and his wife RSVP’d,” Karen assured him. “What’s the big deal?”
“I can’t discuss it. It concerns a patient.”
“Why would you confer about a patient on your day off?” Zora asked.
“That’s confidential, too.” Grabbing the tray of sandwiches, Lucky whisked out of the room so fast it was a miracle the sandwich pyramid didn’t topple.
“That’s odd,” Karen said. “I wonder what’s going on.”
As did Zora, but Cole, and in particular his wife, a popular nurse, were a touchy subject for her. As the first Mrs. Andrew Raditch, Stacy hadn’t hidden her resentment toward Zora-the-husband-stealer, and most staffers had sided with her.
Among them, no one had been more hostile than Lucky. He’d eased up since he and Zora had started sharing this house, but in a showdown there was no question that his loyalty lay with Cole and his spouse.
Zora wished that didn’t bother her. Well, she had more important things to deal with, anyway...such as facing the grandmother of her children in less than two hours.
Chapter Two (#ub2072629-c39b-52c4-9a7c-13fa558b95bb)
Lucky wove between clusters of chattering people in the living room, removing soiled paper plates and cups. Although he was enjoying the party, he wished he and his housemates had kept a tighter lid on the guest list. Only half an hour into it, the place was filling up—and not all the choices had been wise.
Inviting Betsy Raditch had seemed a clever trick to prod Zora into finally accepting the help she needed. Instead, the younger woman kept dodging her ex-mother-in-law, who sneaked longing gazes at Zora’s belly but maintained a respectful distance. The would-be grandmother’s wistful expression sent a guilty pang through Lucky.
And he hadn’t counted on Karen inviting Laird, but here he was, fawning over Zora. The psychologist’s colorless eyes—okay, they were gray, but a very light gray—lit up whenever she so much as flinched, providing an excuse for him to offer her a chair or a drink. Was the man flirting or just trying to charm his way into the house? Either way, he had a very strange notion of what women found appealing.
When Zora winced, the guy reached out to rub her bulge. Stuck in a knot of people across the room, Lucky barely refrained from shouting, “Hands off!” To his relief, Keely Randolph, a dour older nurse Lucky had never much liked until now, smacked Laird’s arm and loudly proclaimed that people shouldn’t shed their germs all over pregnant women.
After scowling at her, Laird gazed around, targeted Karen and approached her with a smarmy expression. Lucky caught the words exquisite house and can’t wait to move in.
Rod Vintner came to Karen’s rescue, his wiry frame and short graying beard bristling with indignation. “Who’s moving in where?” he growled with a ferocity that indicated he’d willingly stick one of his anesthesiology needles into Laird’s veins and pump it to the max.
Satisfied that the jerk was batting zero, Lucky glanced toward the front window. He never tired of the soul-renewing view across the narrow lane and past the coastal bluffs to the cozy harbor from which the town took its name. You couldn’t beat the beauty of this spot.
Yet he might have to leave. And that had nothing to do with Laird or any other roommate.
Lucky had worked hard to earn a master’s degree in nursing administration, which he’d completed earlier this year. Now he sought a suitable post for his management skills, but there were no openings at Safe Harbor Medical. Which meant he’d have to move away from the people he cared about.
They included Zora, who over the past few months had needed his protection as she struggled to deal with an unplanned pregnancy and a broken heart. They hadn’t intended to grow closer; he wasn’t even sure either would openly acknowledge it. Which was just as well. Because having once failed in a big way to be there for the people he loved, Lucky had vowed never, ever to take on such responsibility. Because he’d only fail again.
Still, he couldn’t imagine moving away. His best hope for staying in the area would be the expansion of the men’s fertility program in which he worked. Any minute now, its director, Cole Rattigan, would arrive. Most of the staff thought Cole had just been in New York to deliver a speech, but Lucky was more interested in hearing about his boss’s private meeting with the designer of a new device.
It offered a slim possibility of helping one particular patient, a volatile billionaire named Vince Adams who was considering a major endowment to expand the hospital’s urology program. If that happened, it might create a nursing-administration position for Lucky. Also, it would realize his doctor’s dream of building a world-class program.
If not for Cole, Lucky might not be working for Safe Harbor Med at all, he reflected as he carried empty plates and cups to the kitchen. Two and a half years ago, when the newly arrived urologist had interviewed for office nurses, Lucky hadn’t believed he had a chance of being hired. After his previous doctor retired, Lucky’s tattoos had repeatedly knocked him out of the running for jobs. He’d been considering expensive and painful treatment to remove the evidence of his youthful foolishness.
But the tats hadn’t bothered Cole. He’d asked a few questions, appeared pleased with the responses and offered the job on the spot. After that, Lucky would have battled demons if they’d threatened his doctor.
In the den, he poured himself a glass of fruit juice and noted that the sandwiches, chips and veggies were holding their own despite modest depletions. No one had cut the sheet cake yet, leaving intact the six cartoon babies, five with pink hair ribbons and one with blue.
“Aren’t they adorable?” The soft voice at his elbow drew his attention to Betsy.
Lucky shifted uneasily. Despite his conviction that Zora ought to be honest with her children’s grandmother, he had no intention of snitching. Still, he had invited the woman. “We ordered it from the Cake Castle.”
She indicated the Nanny Fund box bordered by a few wrapped packages. “I didn’t realize most people would be contributing money as their gift. I hope it’s all right that I crocheted baby blankets.”
“All right?” Lucky repeated in surprise. “The kids will treasure those keepsakes forever.”
Betsy’s squarish face, softened by caramel-brown hair and wire-rimmed glasses, brightened at the compliment. Why didn’t Zora level with the woman? A doting grandma could provide the support a young single mother needed. Considering that Zora’s own mother lived in Oregon, she’d be wise to take advantage of Betsy’s yearning for grandkids.
“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “Also, much as I approve of the nanny idea, I suspect new mothers could use furnishings and toys.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of that.” Lucky had been forced to park in the driveway for weeks due to the overflow in the garage. “Practically the entire staff has donated their baby gear. Anya and Jack got first pick, since she’s already delivered, but they only have a singleton. There’s plenty left.”
“They’re a lovely couple. So are Melissa and Edmond.” Betsy indicated the long-legged blonde woman ensconced on the sofa, flanked by her doting husband and seven-year-old niece, Dawn, who lived with them. This was a rare outing for Melissa, who in her sixth month with triplets looked almost as wide as she was tall. “I’m thrilled that they remarried. They obviously belong together.”
Was that a hint? Surely the woman didn’t believe her son might reconcile with Zora. Aside from the fact that he had a new wife, the guy was the world’s worst candidate for family man. “I’d bet in most divorces the odds of a happy reconciliation would be on par with winning the lottery.”
“If that was for my benefit, don’t bother,” Betsy told him.
“Sorry.” Lucky ducked his head. “I tend to be a mother hen to my friends. Or a father hen, if there is such a thing.”
“At least you aren’t a rooster like my son,” she replied sharply.
“No comment.”
“Wise man.”
On the far side of the room, Zora circled past the staircase and halted, her eyes widening at the sight of Lucky standing beside Betsy. Lucky nearly spread his hands in a do-you-honestly-think-I’d-tell-her? gesture, but decided against it, since Betsy didn’t miss much. She must be suspicious enough already about the twins’ paternity.
While he was seeking another topic of conversation, his landlady bounced into the den from the kitchen. “Who’s ready for a game?” Karen called. “We have prizes.” She indicated a side table where baskets displayed bath soaps and lotions, while a large stuffed panda held out a gift card to the Bear and Doll Boutique.
“What kind of game?” Dawn asked from the couch.
“I’m afraid the first one might be too hard for a child,” Karen said. “It’s a diaper-the-baby contest.”
