Baby, Baby. Roz Denny Fox
blocks of green, yellow, orange and blue.
The saleslady steered her toward matching crib sheets, bumper pads and a diaper stacker. Next, she added large clown decals for the wall. She’d already decided to paint the nursery walls four different primary colors. She might even pick up paint on the way home and begin the project this evening.
Toys. Faith spotted them across the aisle. She headed straight for a large plush monkey with a funny face. How foolish, she thought, squeezing its soft body. The stuffed animal was bigger than either of the twins. It’d be far more practical to buy a nice mobile or a couple of small rattles. But she couldn’t make herself let go of the monkey. It remained hooked on her arm as she reached for an equally impractical giraffe. Faith had to stand on tiptoe to grab the giraffe from the top shelf. In so doing, she dislodged a pile of bears.
“Goodness!” Bears of all sizes tumbled onto the other side of the display.
“Hey!” Faith heard a faint, gruff protest. She dashed around the corner and almost bowled over a man covering his head with both arms to ward off raining bears.
It took Faith a moment to realize she knew that profile. “Michael? What are you doing here?”
“Uh, hello, Faith.” Michael shifted two small teddies to his left hand, and began to pick up the larger ones spilled across the carpet—a move that placed him in direct visual alignment with Faith’s trim ankles. Hands unexpectedly clumsy, Michael dropped the bears he was collecting. His mouth felt dry as cotton. Lord, what was the matter with him?
Faith’s attention focused on the two bears Michael kept separate. One was pink and the other blue, both washable terry cloth. They matched two soft receiving blankets draped over the crook of his elbow.
Several silent minutes passed before Michael realized he was the only one righting the bears. Faith’s gaze remained fixed on his intended purchases.
“I stopped off at the nursery after the funeral,” he explained, halting his task long enough to meet her eyes. “A nurse, Teri I think was her name, said premies respond to having the type of blanket they’ll be wrapped in at home laid over their isolettes. She also suggested tucking small toys inside. Along with frequent holding, she said, that gives premature babies a sense of well-being.”
A sharp pain sliced through Faith’s stomach. Her first reaction was to wonder why Michael hadn’t gone straight back to New York where he belonged after the funeral. Her second was more an overwhelming sense of fear than a clear thought. A fear that this situation was cartwheeling out of her control.
“You don’t have any idea what type of blankets Abigail and Nicholas will have when they go home,” she said tartly. “I’m outfitting their nursery. Not in pink or blue. Lacy liked wild colors. Bright colors.” She said it almost desperately.
Michael’s face appeared so crestfallen, she almost regretted her outburst. Or she did until it struck her that he was going behind her back to gain entry into the nursery, despite her request. No doubt he’d used his status as an eminent surgeon to inveigle his way in.
Faith’s voice dropped. “Go home, Michael. Don’t make me get a restraining order against you. I spoke with Lacy’s lawyer last night. He said she was very much of sound mind when she came to his office to draw up those custody papers. He further said that if you or Kipp Fielding want visiting privileges, you’ll have to request approval through Family Court. Any questions you have are to be directed to him. His name is David Reed. You’ll find him in the phone book.”
“Why would you drag Lacy’s good name through court? Look at her recent behavior. The doorman at our apartment knows she left me that night in January in a fit of anger. From there she had a torrid affair with a married man. Then she ran off without telling anyone and hid out. Think, Faith. She deliberately went off her lifesaving medications.”
Faith heard only the warning that overlaid his apparent concern. Pain exploded in her chest. She should have suspected Michael was being nice at the funeral to put himself in a good light. Now she could believe this steely-jawed man with the hard eyes had driven her sister away. “And you’re lily-white?” she said angrily. “Lacy left you because you were obsessed with work. Somehow I doubt a judge will find it her fault that Kipp pretended to be single. No one knows better than you, Michael, that Lacy’s anti-rejection drugs were experimental. Who’d fault her for not wanting to jeopardize her unborn child?”
“I see. You and Lacy’s lawyer have it all figured out, don’t you, Faith? Well, I wouldn’t spend a lot of money furnishing that nursery if I were you.” Michael drew himself up to his full six-foot-three height. “Courts have been more favorable to fathers over the last few years, especially if they have the means to provide for their kids. I have the means several times over. And the desire. Tell that to your David Reed.”
Faith watched him stride down the aisle. She felt as if she’d been trampled by an elephant. Michael stopped to pay for his purchases, chatting easily with the sales-woman as she rang them up. He appeared impervious to the fact that he’d left Faith shattered and it struck her how little effect her words had had on him. Michael Cameron intended to apply the same tenacity that had made him a world-famous surgeon to overturning her guardianship of Lacy’s babies.
He obviously didn’t realize she could be tenacious, too. More determined than ever to outfit the nursery as Lacy would want, Faith finished her shopping and requested everything be delivered. Leaving, she visited a paint store. And lugged the heavy cans up to her third-floor apartment. Then she put all other plans on hold while she ran to the hospital to visit the babies. She needed to touch them. To hold them.
Faith cuddled Abigail first, and then Nicholas. “You’re going to love the room I’m fixing for you,” she told them both as they gazed at her with unfocused eyes.
The pediatrician came in while she was there. He unwrapped the babies and checked them over thoroughly. “They’re gaining like champs,” he said over their chorusing squalls. “Two more weeks at this rate and you’ll be able to take them home.”
“So soon? That’s wonderful news! The nurses seemed to think they’d have to stay here much longer.” Faith couldn’t contain a happy smile.
“If they’d lost a lot of weight, that would have been true. Nicholas only lost an ounce and Abigail two. The way they’re chowing down, unless something unforeseen crops up, my guess is they’ll both top five pounds soon. Dr. Finegold mentioned your predicament, Faith. For what it’s worth, I’ll be glad to put in a good word for you. The babies may be stable, but caring for premie multiples can be tricky. I like knowing they’ll be under the care of a trained nurse.”
“I appreciate your vote of confidence, Dr. Sampson. I’m planning to take at least six months off from work. A year if I can swing it financially. Our administrator said he’d hold a position open as long as possible. Otherwise, I’ll use our on-site day care. I’ve already placed my name on the waiting list. Gwen in E.R., said the day care has openings from time to time.”
“If you’re able to stay home six months, that’s great, Faith. A year would be icing on the cake. After I examine the twins next week, I’ll give you a call. I should be able to give you their actual release date then.”
“Thank you,” Faith murmured. She watched him cuddle Abigail while she diapered Nicholas. She felt all thumbs and hoped he didn’t hold that against her. She hadn’t diapered a baby since Lacy was little. “I’ll get the hang of this soon,” she promised.
Sampson laughed. “I have no doubt you will. Call my office and ask my receptionist to put you in touch with a parents-of-multiples support group. They have a newsletter and meetings where other parents of twins, triplets and upward exchange information. My other advice is to lay in a mountain of diapers. You won’t believe how many you’ll go through in a day.”
“Diapers.” Faith snapped her fingers. “I went shopping today and bought out the store. Even paint for the nursery walls. How could I have forgotten diapers?”
The physician handed her Abigail and gave a wry