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Michael nodded gallantly. “I wouldn’t think of behaving any other way. I’m not here to make trouble for Kate or little Timmy.”
Kate’s dad regarded Michael gravely. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Knowing her dad was just getting warmed up, Kate said quickly, “I’m pretty tired.” She looked at her parents, knowing at a time like this they were hard-pressed to deny her anything. “Maybe you could come back tomorrow. One of you in the afternoon and one of you in the evening?”
Her parents looked at each other, the tension that had been there earlier resurfacing. “I’ll take the afternoon,” her mother volunteered.
“I’ll take the evening,” her father said.
“In the meantime is there anything you need for me to bring you?” Kate’s mother asked.
Kate shook her head and fought the sadness that threatened to overwhelm her. She wished her parents would drop this foolishness and get back together. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“How about your suitcase, with your nightgown and robe?” Carolyn persisted.
“I’ve already promised Kate that I would go get it,” Lindy said.
“All right, darling.” Kate’s mother patted her shoulder gently.
“Call us if you need anything,” her dad said.
Her parents kissed her and left, walking far apart as if they were strangers. Lindy hugged Kate, promised to return with the suitcase and followed them out the door.
Michael stood. “I’ll go, too.”
“No.” Kate reached out and caught his hand before he could depart. “I need to talk to you a minute, Michael.” She tugged him closer until he sat on the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry my father grilled you that way.” Kate shook her head in mounting exasperation, already knowing what Michael didn’t, that this was just the beginning of her father’s involvement in the situation. “Sometimes he can be such a lawyer.” Making mountains out of molehills.
Michael grinned, understanding and accepting her father’s protective behavior. “That’s okay,” he said gently. “In his place, I probably would have behaved much the same way. And speaking of reactions—your mother didn’t say much.”
Kate made a face and predicted dryly, “Which is another curious thing. Before the separation from my dad, she would’ve lectured me soundly and told me she knew this cockeyed plan of mine to have a child via artificial insemination would lead to trouble. Since she left my dad, she tells me to go for everything and grab as much gusto from this life as I can.”
That did sound like a mid-life crisis, Michael thought, as he playfully nudged her thigh with his and attempted to lighten the mood and get Kate’s mind off family problems she was unable to do anything about. “Hey, Timmy’s no trouble,” he teased with a wink. “In fact, as far as newborn babies go, he’s a little angel.”
Kate made a comical face at him, then chided dryly, “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it, Dr. Sloane.”
Michael bestowed on her a sexy grin and covered her hand with his. “Ah. You think I’m trouble, then.”
In a certain, very sexy way, maybe he was, Kate thought a tad wistfully. And suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Kate found after all the months alone she was in the mood for a little trouble of the romantic variety, as long as it didn’t unnecessarily complicate her life. Smiling, she said, “I think the situation we’re in is trouble.”
Michael shrugged his broad shoulders. “It is sticky, I’ll grant you that,” he said in a low, serious voice. “It doesn’t mean we can’t handle it. So far, after we both weathered the initial shock, we’ve proven that we can handle it just fine.”
His confidence—his willingness to conquer this challenge—was contagious. It lifted her spirits immediately. Unfortunately, Kate knew there were even rockier roads ahead. And she knew for certain that in the few short hours she’d known Michael, her life had changed. She wanted the chance to see where the future would lead.
Still holding his eyes, she drew a bolstering breath. “The nurse asked me earlier to fill out information for Timmy’s birth certificate. She left the forms in the drawer. You should probably have a look at them, too.”
Michael looked at her thoughtfully as he retrieved the papers.
“I didn’t know how we should fill them out,” Kate told him as he perused the sheets. “So I’ll just come right out and ask.” Kate brought herself up short. She took a deep breath, aware her hands were trembling. “Do you want your name on Timmy’s birth certificate? Do you want to be legally known as his father?”
Chapter Three
Michael hadn’t known what to expect when he had tracked Kate down, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined he would be so attracted to her, physically and otherwise, or be on hand to single-handedly bring their baby into the world in the back of a powder-blue delivery van. But all that had happened, and it had changed him—and probably Kate, too—forever. Just as the step they were about to take would change all their lives forever, too.
“I think it’s important for a lot of reasons that his birth certificate state the whole truth. So the answer is, yes, Kate,” he told her softly, “I do.” In fact, if the truth be known, he was now hoping for much more than that.
Kate looked into his eyes. Abruptly, she looked as overcome with emotion as he. It had been, Michael thought, one hell of an eventful day. “Then the truth it will be,” she echoed softly.
In the bassinet, Timmy squirmed beneath the white flannel blanket he’d been swaddled in and, his cherubic face pinkening, started to whimper. Michael and Kate turned in time to see his dark lashes flutter open to reveal a pair of big baby-blue eyes.
Michael smiled, amazed at the depth of the affection already welling inside him as he contemplated their newborn baby boy. “Looks like our son is waking up.”
Kate grinned, as eager to get more thoroughly acquainted with their baby as he was. “He’s probably hungry,” she stated, as a pink flush crept into her cheeks. Her glance cut briefly to Michael. “I haven’t breast-fed him yet.”
And, Michael knew, that was supposed to be done within the first five or six hours after birth. As soon as both baby and mother—who were usually exhausted from the birth—were up to it. Glad he was going to be around to witness this, too, Michael asked, “Do you want me to bring him to you?”
Kate pushed the button that raised the head of her bed until she was sitting up. Her green eyes glittered with excitement as she tucked the gently curving ends of her silky blond bob behind her ears. She shot him a grateful glance that made her seem—in his eyes, anyway—all the more angelically beautiful. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
Timmy’s eyes widened as Michael slid one hand beneath his head and neck, the other beneath his back and legs, and lifted him from the bassinet. Michael grinned as Timmy stopped crying immediately and blinked at him.
“Hey, there,” Michael teased in way of greeting. “Remember me? I brought you into the world.” Timmy cooed and gurgled in response as Michael lowered him gently and put him in Kate’s arms.
Kate stroked the straight, downy soft hair on Timmy’s head as Timmy regarded her with unabashed delight. “I think he does recognize you, Michael.”
Michael studied his son’s cherubic face, deciding Ted Montgomery was right—Timmy did have Kate’s chin. And nose. And eyes. Along with his daddy’s dark, straight hair. “I think he knows your voice, too,” Michael said.
“Probably.” Kate chuckled. “I’ve done nothing but talk and sing and read to him for the last nine months.”
Somehow, Michael thought, as he went to get a diaper from the corner of the bassinet, that didn’t surprise him. He had known from the first Kate was going to be one devoted mother.
He brought the diaper back and watched as Kate unwrapped the white flannel blanket. They changed him together, marveling over his tiny perfect form, as Timmy squirmed. Deciding to reswaddle him after he’d been fed, Kate lifted Timmy toward her. Abruptly, she looked unsure how to proceed. “I’ve never done this before.”
“And you’re feeling self-conscious and would like some help,” Michael guessed, finding that perfectly understandable. He touched her shoulder compassionately, then volunteered, “I’ll go see if I can round up a nurse.”
When he returned—alone—a scant minute and a half later, Kate had lowered one shoulder of her gown, draped the white cotton diaper over one shoulder and was cuddling a loudly protesting Timmy to her breast. Trying not to think how beautiful and sexy Kate looked, Michael shoved his hands in his pockets and announced as he neared, “They’re really swamped. Every baby on the floor has decided he or she is hungry now. They said maybe ten minutes.”
“I tried but I can’t get him to nurse.” Kate looked at Michael helplessly.
Knowing that wasn’t unusual for first-time mothers and their babies, Michael shut the door to her room to insure their privacy and crossed to her side. “Let’s see what we can do to get you more comfortable,” he told Kate gently, repeating what he had learned over the years as both a physician and an uncle.
“For the first few feedings, lying on your side may work best,” Michael told her with a reassuring smile. “So, the first thing we’re going to need to do is get you situated.”
Michael took a loudly squalling Timmy from Kate and cradled him against his chest. With his free hand he pressed the button that would lower the head of her bed. And then helped Kate—who was still moving a little stiffly after the delivery—into a reclining position. “And then pull your arm out of your gown entirely so you’ll have more freedom of movement,” he said.
“Right.” Kate flushed crimson.
“Okay.” Michael helped her free her arm while still maintaining her modesty as best as he could. “Can you shift onto your left side?” Keeping his actions as clinical as possible, he helped her do so. “Good. Let’s put this pillow beneath you.” He moved it longwise, so it cushioned her from head to breast. “And we’ll put your left arm up, like this, so you can rest your head on your upraised arm. And move this cloth aside.” Keeping his mind resolutely on the task at hand, he gently exposed her breast. “Now we’ll get Timmy in here—” Michael placed Timmy on his side, facing Kate, and brought the infant as close as possible to his mother “—and try again.”
Still crying and clueless about what to do next, the newborn turned away and wailed even louder. “See?” Kate cried, distressed, her whole body tensing at her son’s rejection.
Figuring the sooner mother and son connected, the better, Michael looked at Kate, asking to simply show her—through touch—what needed to be done. “May I?”
Flushing and looking a little shy, Kate nodded. Michael covered her hand with his and lifted her nipple toward Timmy’s lips. He touched the top of Timmy’s bow-shaped lips with the tip of Kate’s breast, then the bottom lip, then the top again, repeating the motion gently until Timmy’s mouth opened. Michael continued to help her as he explained, “Once Timmy’s mouth is open, place your nipple in the center so he can latch on.”
Kate’s gaze was fastened on both breast and baby. “He’s not doing it,” she said, obviously disappointed this was proving to be so difficult for both of them.
“Then let’s try it again,” Michael said, aware how silky and warm her skin felt beneath his fingers. “Upper lip. Lower.” Michael smiled as Timmy’s crying quieted and progress was made. “See, he’s starting to root around a bit. Yeah,” Michael said victoriously, as Timmy’s cheeks moved in and out in a clumsy attempt to nurse, “there he goes.”
“He’s nursing!” Kate said as Timmy stopped wailing and latched onto her breast with all his might.
“Darned if he isn’t,” Michael said proudly, feeling as contented and happy as Kate was that this first hurdle with their son had been climbed. “Now there are a few more things to watch out for,” Michael cautioned. He paused, wary of interfering too much. “If you want me to show you…”
Kate nodded and shot Michael a grateful glance. “Please,” she said, eager to learn. “Starting with how long I should nurse him.”
Michael repeated what the lactation nurse would tell Kate later. “For today, no more than five minutes on each breast. You can go ten minutes on each breast tomorrow. After that it’ll be fifteen.”
“How often will I nurse?” Kate asked, as she stroked the downy soft hair on the back of Timmy’s head.
A wave of almost unbearable tenderness moving through him, Michael advised, “Once your milk comes in, you’ll probably need to nurse him every three or four hours.”
Again, their eyes met. “What else should I know?” Kate asked Michael softly.
I’m drawn to you, and would be even if you hadn’t just unexpectedly borne me a son, Michael thought. Knowing, however, this was not the time or place for such a confession, Michael turned his attention to his nursing son. Briefly, he explained how to position Timmy to insure he had plenty of room to breathe while nursing, then said, “Make sure Timmy has a hold on the areola as well as the nipple—sucking on just the nipple will leave him hungry. And be sure he isn’t sucking on his own lip or tongue while he nurses.”
Her self-consciousness temporarily forgotten, Kate continued to nurse. She looked so beautiful and angelic it made his heart ache.
She bent to kiss the top of Timmy’s head, then asked curiously, “What happens if he does any of those things?”
“If he starts sucking on his lower lip, you can simply work it free with your fingertip while he continues to nurse. Otherwise, break the suction and start over again.” Michael continued to watch her another long moment, then glanced at his watch. “Ready to switch sides?”
Kate nodded.
Timmy protested at the interruption, but only half as vigorously as before. “This isn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Kate murmured. Michael noted she was beginning to look and act as completely exhausted and drowsy as their infant son.
“And it’ll get easier every time,” Michael assured her.
Kate grinned. “How do you know?”
“I’ve got four sisters.” Michael pulled a chair up beside the bed, turned it backward and straddled it. “They all have kids, and all of them nursed. It was hard for all of them in the beginning. Even for Winnie, who’s an obstetrics nurse by profession. But my mom, who’s also a nurse, coached them through it, on the phone and in person. So I know the drill—and then some.”
“Plus you have experience as a doctor.”
“Right again.”
In contented silence, they watched the baby nurse at her breast. “I think he’s falling asleep,” Kate noted, yawning.
Michael picked up Timmy’s tiny fist and kissed the back of it. “Poor fella. He’s probably all tuckered out.” Just like his mother, Michael thought. “Want me to put him in his bassinet?” he asked, when Timmy’s jaw went slack.
Kate yawned. “I think you’d better,” she said drowsily.
Michael lifted him away from her. He wrapped Timmy in the white flannel blanket and settled him on his side in the Plexiglas crib. By the time he turned to Kate, she was just as he’d left her, fast asleep. His heart going out to her, Michael slipped her arm into her gown and tucked the covers around her.
“Timmy wasn’t the only miracle today,” he murmured. Knowing she needed her sleep, he gently touched her cheek. Wishing he could kiss her, he slipped from the room.
“YOU’RE LOOKING chipper this morning,” Lindy said as she came in at ten o’clock the next morning with a brimming shopping bag in one hand, a coffee and bake shop bag in the other.
Kate knew that was true. “Maybe because I feel almost human again,” she said. She’d had a long, hot shower and shampoo and changed into her own robe and slippers. Sitting up in bed, she was smoothing the silky blond ends of her hair with a cordless curling iron. She shot Lindy a grateful glance. “Thanks for bringing my stuff over last night, by the way.” It would be a treat to face Michael Sloane in something other than maternity clothes or a hospital gown. “I don’t remember you coming in.”
Lindy opened the decaf cappuccino she’d brought for Kate and put it on the bed tray. “That’s because you were sound asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
Kate nodded, grateful for the extra sleep. “I only woke to feed Timmy.”
Opening her coffee, Lindy kicked off her shoes and settled in, cross-legged, at the foot of Kate’s hospital bed. “Why isn’t he still in here with you, by the way?”
“He will be later. Right now he’s down in the nursery, getting his own bath. They’re going to keep him there for a while.” She had to force herself to remain calm as she took a sip of cappuccino and admitted, “He’s being circumcised this morning.”
Lindy groaned in sympathy.
Kate nodded. “Yeah, I know,” she commiserated with her sister. “It sounds like it hurts to me, too, but Michael and Timmy’s pediatrician swear he won’t feel any discomfort. They’re going to use a local anesthetic, and Michael will be with him the whole time the procedure is done. And,” Kate sighed, “in the long run, it’s supposed to be better, health-wise, so we’re going to stick with tradition and have it done.”
Lindy pulled two light and flaky Danishes out of the bag. “This was a joint decision?”
Finding she was famished, Kate accepted one of the flaky buns. “Uh-huh.” The only surprise was how good it had felt, sharing that decision with Michael. What she’d thought would turn into an utter disaster had instead turned into something good.
Lindy took another sip of coffee. “I stopped by the nursery on my way to the room, and I have to tell you, I saw the name on Timmy’s bassinet.” Lindy leveled a warning look at Kate. “I don’t know what Mom will say, but Dad is going to flip when he sees it.”
Kate had figured as much. It didn’t change anything.
“It’s one thing to be grateful,” Lindy said sternly, for once being more sensible than hopelessly romantic. “It’s another to link lives with him this swiftly.”
“I know. If it had been anyone else coming into the shop yesterday, telling me something like that, I probably would have panicked and felt the need to get a whole team of lawyers immediately. But it was Michael, and he was so…reasonable in the light of such a complete and utter disaster.”
“Not to mention the fact he later delivered your baby and got you both to the hospital.”
Kate recalled how kind and wonderful and good Michael had been as he coached her through childbirth and showed her how to nurse. “And that experience brought us together very quickly,” Kate explained. It had also left them feeling unbearably close, despite the fact they were virtual strangers to each other.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I really can’t explain why I trust him as much as I do, I just do.” And somehow she knew, in her heart, that was not going to change. Even if her romantic past was telling her to proceed a lot more cautiously.
Lindy studied her. “Maybe you don’t have to explain it, maybe you just need to go with your instincts.”
Unfortunately, Kate thought, as she watched Lindy retrieve the shopping bag with a Thanksgiving turkey and a popular area mall insignia on the front of it, her instincts regarding the people closest to her had failed her more than once. But she didn’t need to think about that now.
“What have you got there?” she inquired.
Lindy beamed. “Gifts, of course, for you and the baby, from your employees at the shop. And a sample gift catalogue from Dulcie. She said you need to check this over and make sure it’s the way you want it because you need to give the printer final approval by Friday if you want the catalogues in the mail before Thanksgiving. And she also said to tell you they finished the deliveries that were supposed to be done last night, and retrieved the van, which was still in perfect shape.”
Kate thought about the upcoming holidays. Though she had planned well for the season and her very brief maternity leave, as she thought about Thanksgiving, which was roughly two weeks away, and Christmas, which was another six, she felt a little daunted. “How are things at the shop this morning, by the way?” she asked curiously.
“Busy. Can you believe you had fifty more orders for semester exam care baskets in yesterday’s mail alone? Sending out brochures to the parents of students was a great idea.”
