Things had been going well between him and Faith. He’s screwed up royally.
He’d moved too fast. Had let his interest in her overpower is good sense. But Brian had no idea how to straighten this out. If he’d been equipped with the ability to deal with hurt feelings, Chloe might still be alive and none of this would have happened. No Nick Carter. No messy triangle. No legal battle.
No babies.
He listened for any sign from next door that Faith needed his assistance with the twins. All was quiet. The medicine must have done its job. Good. Considering how they’d ended the outing, Brian wasn’t anxious to knock on her door and get his head bitten off. For two cents, he’d stay away until she begged for his help. As if Faith would break down and ask any man for help. She couldn’t bend, wasn’t capable of it, and he had a history of failure at compromise. Any relationship between them was doomed. It was high time he admitted it. He might—-if he could get her out of his head.
Groaning, Brian wished he’d followed Faith’s lead and bought himself a decongestant. He hadn’t had a head cold like this in years. How long did the damn things last? He wondered as he dumped the now-cold coffee down the sink and flung himself across the bed again.
After tossing and turning for more than two hours, he piled up a stack of pillows and fell asleep virtually sitting up.
As the night dragged on, Faith did her best to minister to both fussy babies. Her own head felt like a helium-filled balloon. When the light of dawn streaked the sky, she’d reached her wits’ end. Elyse and Evan slept in fits and starts. They were hungry but had little interest in their bottles. Ellie refused to drink at all. Faith worried that she’d become dehydrated. “Come on, sweetheart.” She pleaded with the hot, fussy child. “I know you feel rotten, but if you don’t take in some fluids, you’ll feel worse.”
Between rocking and pacing the floor, Faith listened for any sign of life in the apartment next door. As the morning wore on, she began to wonder if Brian had packed up and gone back to New York. She wouldn’t blame him. She’d acted like a twit. She’d acted jealous of a sister who was not longer a threat. Guilt slammed through her. Guilt because for so long, she’d denied being jealous of Chloe. Guilt because now that Chloe was dead, Faith had been about to take what belonged to her sister. Maybe the guilt was irrational, but Faith still felt it, compounded by the tragedy of Chloe’s death. And Faith had dumped all her guilt on Brian.
Boy, she was something. If he never spoke to her again, it would serve her right. Tears began to run down her cheeks. Hugging Elyse close, Faith rubbed her face over the little girl’s soft hair. Ultimately she would be the loser if Brian won custody and never let her see the twins again.
By late afternoon, Faith was certain Brian had gone. There wasn’t the slightest sound from his apartment. Her cold had worsened, as had those of the twins. Though both babies had taken in some of the electrolyte drink Dr. Sampson’s nurse had told Faith to buy at the pharmacy, they were still extremely fussy.
Following a second night without sleep, Faith decided she couldn’t do this alone. She hauled out the telephone book and started down the list of advertisements for agencies providing mother’s helpers. Her own throat was so sore she could barely croak out her questions. It turned out she wasted her breath. Not one of the agencies had mother’s helpers available for short-term assignments.
Faith was tempted to promise them she’d pay a month’s wages even though she hoped she’d only need someone for a few days.
Just when she thought her arms would fall off from holding the babies and walking the floor with them, she heard the shower running next door. If Brian had been gone, now he was back. The joy she felt in her heart was overwhelming—-and pathetic, she told herself.
He’d probably laugh in her face if she phoned to ask for his help. Practically the last thing he’d said to her had been a bitter comment about her self-sufficiency. And she’d more or less told him it would be a cold day in hell before she needed anything from a man.
Words. False pride. They could get you into trouble.
She waited fifteen minutes after hearing the shower shut off to pick up the card on which he’d written his cell phone number. Twice she punched in the first three digits, then went into a fit of coughing and hung up without completing the call.
As she fixed her fingers and tried again, Evan woke up screaming and pulling at his ears. He probably needed to go to the doctor again for something stronger than a decongestant. Faith didn’t think she could manage bundling both babies up and calling a cab to go downtown. She’d have to call Brian—-but she found it easier to beg for his help on behalf of the twins rather than herself.
Jiggling the distressed baby on one shoulder, Faith quickly punched in Brian’s number. The phone rang and rang. She hadn’t hung up yet when a knock sounded at her door. Trailing the long cord to the entry, she balanced the receiver and Evan, while trying to peer out the peephole. To Faith’s surprise, Brian stood there, a frown on his face, one hand splayed against the wall.
She dropped the receiver and flipped open all three locks. Faith found herself offering a teary apology to Brian’s back. He’d turned and headed back into his apartment.
He glanced over his shoulder, shock on his face.
“Wait a minute, Faith. Don’t close the door, I left my cell phone in my apartment and I hear it ringing.”
“It’s me.” She said breathlessly, pointing to the receiver at her feet.
“You? Calling me?”
She nodded and closed her eyes. Brian looked so wonderfully healthy. He was clean and shaved, while she hadn’t had time to shower since they’d arrived home from their outing. She’d changed her shirt because both babies had spit up on it, but she wore the same jeans. “Brian...you have every right to tell me to get lost, b-but...but I need you. Evan has to see Dr. Sampson. I think he’s developed an ear infection. I’m so light-headed from lack of sleep, I feel faint. Please...” she extended a hand, then quickly drew it back. The man must think she was a stark, raving maniac.
“God, Faith. Why didn’t you phone me earlier? I slept for twenty hours straight.”
“So that’s why I didn’t hear any noise coming from your apartment. I thought you’d gone back to New York.”
“You really were calling me?” he asked, stooping to pick up the buzzing receiver.
Faith clung to Evan and stared at Brian. “I’d hoped even if you were still mad at me, you’d take pity on the twins.”
“I’m not mad at you, Faith.” Reaching out a finger, Brian ran it tentatively over the trail left by her tears.
“I never was angry at you. I’m sorry I pushed too fast. I had no right to do that when our lives are so up in the air over the custody agreement. I’m hoping we can forget it ever happened and go on as we were before.”
Bad as she felt, his declaration ripped through her heart. Or maybe it was her stomach. Faith felt very much as if she was about to throw up.
She was.
Thrusting the crying baby into Brian’s arms, Faith covered her mouth and ran for the bathroom.
Brian paced outside the bathroom door listening to her retch, and feeling helpless. He’d poked his head inside once, only to have her plead to be left alone. He might have drawn her a glass of water or gotten her a cool washcloth if Elyse hadn’t awakened and joined in her brother’s chorus. Both babies were stuffy. Brian checked the medicine schedule Faith had clipped to one of the cribs. They weren’t due for more than another hour.
He listened to them cough and cry for five additional minutes, then made up his mind. He was taking all three of them to the doctor.
“Get a jacket.” He told Faith when she finally emerged from the bathroom, pale and shaky. “The babies are already in their carriers. I’ll load them up and meet you at the front entrance. Can you make it that far alone?” he asked sharply.
“I just need sleep.” Faith said. “Can you manage both babies?”
“I am man.” He joked, beating a fist on his chest. “Yeah...I’ll be fine.” Faith swayed then, and he cursed and scooped her off her feet. “I’ll put you to bed myself. And I’ll ask Dr. Sampson to prescribe something for flu and cold. Are you allergic to any medications?”
“No.” she mumbled. She was sound asleep by the time he stripped back the spread and put her carefully down. He brushed the dark curls off her forehead, thinking she looked terribly fragile.
Remembering that he’d slept better on a pile of pillows, Brian lifted her tenderly and arranged several pillows at her back. “I’ll be back soon.” He whispered, pulling off her shoes before covering her with the sheets.
Again, Dr. Sampson’s office had to work the babies into an already overfull schedule. “Sorry I didn’t call ahead.” Brian said when Dr. Sampson finally got around to seeing them. He explained how they’d all been sick and that Faith still was.
“Flu and colds are both going around.” The doctor acknowledged. “Faith was right. Evan had developed an inner-ear infection. We caught it early, I’ll want him on an antibiotic for ten days. Continue to push fluids with this young miss.” He said, after noting that Elyse's ears were fine. “Elyse has lost a little weight, she doesn’t have much to play around with.”
Brian, who’d been holding Evan, now cuddled the choking girl under his chin. She settled in, curling close to her brother.
“You’re a natural at this, Brian.” Dr. Sampson said. “If your esteemed colleagues could only see you now.”
Brian gave a short laugh. “My partner should see me. He’s badgering me to come back to the clinic.”
“I didn’t mean to make light of your situation. I take it there’s no word yet on the DNA?”
“No.” Brian shook his head. “Next week, or so I’m guessing. You know...” he mused, “I want the results, but I’m afraid to get the call saying they’re finally in.”
“I can understand that. You’ve gotten really attached to the twins. So has Faith. And the two of you function well together. It’ll be tough if you have to fight each other.”
Brian said nothing, but Dr. Sampson’s statement stood in his ears as he stood in line at the pharmacy. The prophecy nagged at him even after he’d returned to Faith’s apartment.
He looked in on her shortly after settling the twins in a crib. Faith was dead to the world. She didn’t twitch a muscle. Didn’t know he’d come in. Since she was sleeping so soundly, Brian decided not to wake her to give her a dose of the medicine Dr. Sampson had prescribed. Brian had long subscribed to the belief that sleep was a profound healer.
As the afternoon waned, Brian figured he’d be spending the night here. Slipping out while everyone slept, he collected enough clean clothing to last several days, and a book he’d been reading, along with the latest cardiopulmonary journal. It was a magazine that frequently published good articles. Funny, but the intense desire that used to drive him seemed to have deserted him. He hadn’t thought about performing surgery in over three weeks. What did it mean? Was he burned out?
He was doing too much introspection. Grimacing, Brian dumped everything into the guest bedroom.
He checked in on the babies and happened to discover their laundry hamper was full. This was as good a chance as any to go next door and throw a load into the washer.
Before he could toss the clean clothes into the dryer, however, things changed. The twins woke up wet and hungry. While Brian was in the middle of feeding them, Faith stumbled out of her room and made it only as far as the bathroom door, where she vomited. All over the floor.
Brian felt so sorry for her. “Don’t worry about cleaning up.” He murmured, “Take care of yourself. I’ll scrub the floor in a minute. Dr. Sampson prescribed some medicine to help you ward off the nausea. I left it in the bathroom. Can you manage to get into a nightgown by yourself? I’m sure the babies have already been exposed to whatever you have, but just in case they haven’t I’d as soon they not get too close to you.”
“I think this is rather more than you bargained for, Brian. You didn’t sign on to take care of me.”
“Like I haven’t dealt with worse as a doctor?”
“What would I have done without you?” she asked in all seriousness, gazing at him as she slumped against the doorframe.
A wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I promise not to tell a soul that you aren’t a superwoman, Faith.”
“Joke all you want. I honestly don’t know how I would have gotten through this siege. Handling the twins by myself is tough. Add to that everyone being sick...” if she had anything to add to the statement, she didn’t. “Oh, no...I’m dizzy again.”
Teetering, she wove her way back to her room.
Brian held his breath until he heard the squeak of her mattress. “Thank God she made it.” He murmured to the wide-eyed babies.
It was nearly dark by the time he had a chance to clean the tile floor in the bathroom. He quietly entered Faith’s room to check on her again and discovered that she’d taken a second dose of her medicine. She lay sprawled atop her covers, still in yesterday’s sweaty, wrinkled clothes. Brian debated with himself a respectable few minutes. Then, gritting his teeth, he opened her dresser drawers and searched until her found a nightgown.
He was a doctor, he reasoned. Faith didn’t have anything he hadn’t seen before. It was just too bad that the gown he pulled out happened to be the one he’d had fantasies about.
Brian snapped on the bedside lamp. If she woke up, she could take care of this herself. She tossed a bit. Even mumbled and licked her lips. Her eyes remained closed.
Her skin now felt warm and dry. She probably still had a fever. Once he’d slipped off her blouse and jeans and bathed her face and arms in cool water.
As fast as possible, he drew her gown over her head and tucked her arms through the armholes, and rearranged her in bed. Since the room was warm, he covered her with only a sheet.
Leaving a light on low, he wandered into the kitchen where he heated himself a can of soup. There was something hugely satisfying about knowing he’d met the needs of three people he cared about a great deal. Oddly though, despite his medical successes, he’d doubted his ability to nurture for quite some time following the divorce.
He’d stayed in Europe for a couple of months, throwing himself into the lecture circuit. His lengthy absence then contributed to his partner’s concern about the current situation; he felt he’d been left to manage the clinic on his own for far too long. But Brian had needed to stay away after Chloe’s rejection. The divorce had shaken something elemental in Brian—-his confidence and his own ability to comfort and support. If he hadn’t discovered the twins, Brian thought he might have lost a vital portion of himself. The part that allowed him to be a true healer, not just a technician, performing medical procedures. In a way, Chloe had given him a wake-up call. Brian didn’t think he’d ever compartmentalize the areas of his life again.
The feeling he’d accomplished something—-that he’d made a few life-altering decisions in these past hours-—remained with him for the rest of the night.
Toward morning, after cajoling Faith into taking another dose of medicine, he thought she seemed cooler and slept more deeply. She had tried to get up once when the babies cried for their two o’clock feeding. When Brian assured her he didn’t need assistance, she burrowed beneath the covers again.
Now it was nine in the morning, and Faith snoozed on. Brian got the twins up. He dressed them and fed them diluted formula. They smiled and kicked their legs happily—-obviously on the mend. Evan had slept between feedings, which meant his ear wasn’t bothering him as much.
Brian noticed now that the babies were a bit older, they stayed awake for longer periods of time. Both held their heads up without assistance, and they laughed aloud with very little prompting.
Brian opened out the playpen Gwen had lent Faith. He put the babies inside and hunted up a few rattles and squeaky toys. He’d just sat down with a second cup of coffee and begun leafing through a medical journal when he remembered the laundry he’d thrown in the washer yesterday. The stuff probably needed to be rinsed again.
Rather than haul two babies over to his apartment, Brian propped open both doors so he could more easily run from one place to the other. That way, he could still hear the babies if they cried, and from Faith’s living room he’d hear the washer shut off.
An hour later, on the fourth trip, he dashed out of his place carrying a basketful of newly dried baby clothing and ran smack into a man and a woman headed for Faith’s apartment. “May I help you?” he asked coolly, not recognizing them. At least, he didn’t until the couple took a second look at him and seemed to do a double take.
“Oh,” he exclaimed, “Daniel Burgess and Barbara Lang.” Shifting the basket to his other hip, Brian stretched out a hand. “Faith didn’t tell me to expect a visit from Social Services.”
“We were...uh, in the area and decided to stop by.” Burgess said. He opened a notebook and glanced pointedly at the numbers on both apartments. “Are you visiting the twins today, Doctor?” the man asked.
“Yes.” Brian said. James Maxwell knew he’d rented the apartment next to Faith. Other than James and Faith, no one knew. It was no one’s business.
He’d never had to contend with visits from Social Services. He decided to be polite but not go out of his way to be too hospitable. What he hoped was that they’d leave quickly. Because Brian didn’t buy their “in the area” story. Burgess had hesitated too long.
“Judge Brown ordered all parties to phone ahead before visiting,” he pointed out as he seated the couple. Brian dumped the basket of clean clothing on the couch, sat and began to fold things.
“Oh, but this isn’t an official visit,” Ms. Lang assured him. Even as she stiffly balanced her briefcase across her knees, her eyes roamed the cluttered room.
Brian knew how it must look. Burgess had been forced to clear two sets of bottles, various burp cloths and a soiled set of Evan’s terry sleepers out of one chair before he could sit down. There were a lot of blankets lying about. The two carriers were stacked by the door; Brian had left them there following his visit to the pediatrician. Glancing around, he saw books and magazines, assorted toys and a coffee cup. Outside of that, the room didn’t look too bad...if one discounted the layer of dust on the coffee and end tables.
Burgess peered into the playpen. “According to my notes, the babies have seen a doctor twice this week. Colds and ear infections.” He shook his head. “And yet it’s been warmer than usual for fall.”
Brian pushed his medical journal aside to make room for a clean stack of receiving blankets. “Bottle-fed babies are more prone to ear infections.” Brian had read that in parents’ magazines in Dr. Sampson’s office.
Burgess cleared his throat and jotted a notation in his notebook.
Barbara Lang put her case down and bent to pick up Evan. She held him aloft at arm’s length and talked baby talk.
“Evan's been known to spit up as long as an hour after feeding.” Brian warned, sneaking a peek at his watch. He was getting antsy. They hadn’t asked about Faith, but he had no doubt they would if they stayed much longer. Or maybe they’d assumed that, because he was here, she’d taken the opportunity to get out of the house and do some shopping.
Ms. Lang returned Evan to the playpen. She wagged a rattle in front of Elyse's face and seemed pleased when the baby grasped the toy. “Well, Daniel, Dr. Littrell appears to have things under control. Maybe we should leave.”
YES! Brian could hardly contain himself. Rising, he took two steps toward the door, hoping they’d follow. They might have if Faith hadn’t chosen that moment to stagger into the living room. Her hair looked thoroughly mussed. Her feet were bare, and she couldn’t seem to hit the armholes of a pale yellow, summery bathrobe.
“I can’t believe the time, Brian.” Her sleepy voice sounded garbled around a huge yawn.
“You should’ve dragged me out of bed.” As she covered her mouth with a hand, Brian was sure she had no idea they even had visitors.
Gurgling helplessly in his throat, Brian sprinted to her side before she could start scolding him for taking off her clothes and putting her in a nightgown. A gown that left all too much of her glorious self exposed. Brian thought she looked delightful. He wasn’t, however, overjoyed to see Daniel Burgess’s eyes popping out of his head.
“Faith, Mr. Burgess and Ms. Lang from the State Department of Social Services have dropped by.”
She gasped, choked, and started coughing.
“Faith’s been sick.” Brian added, aiming an apology over his shoulder at the gawking couple. “Combination of cold and flu. Dr. Sampson ordered her some medicine and said she should stay in bed. Sampson said there’s been a lot of different viruses going around the area.”
Blotches of red crept up Faith’s neck. Hopping backward toward the hall, she pulled at Brian’s shirt trying to keep him solidly between her and the pair seated in the living room. “Why didn’t you warn me?” she sputtered.
“Didn’t have time.” He whispered back.
Rising on tiptoes, Faith connected with Lang’s still-shocked gaze. “Give me a minute to dress,” she said brightly, doing her best not to hyperventilate. She let go of Brian’s shirt and escaped down the hall, leaving him to deal with their visitors.
Faith gripped her still muzzy head with both hands. “Throwing up in front of Brian was bad enough,” she moaned. “Now I’ve paraded past state workers in my nightie. Can my day get any worse?" What was Brian telling them? She wondered as she pawed through her dresser drawers in search of fresh underwear. She really needed a shower. She’d worn the same clothes for-—her head shot up and the last thought scrambled and stopped as if it had hit a brick wall.
In a sense it had. Her last conscious memory was of throwing up outside the bathroom door. She’d been wearing a t-shirt and jeans at the time.
“Oh.” Her fingers plucked at the lace trim on her nightgown. Brian. He’d undressed her and put her to bed.
Faith needed a clearer head to face the fact, if not to face their visitors. She elected to take the time to shower and wash her hair. What could those two want? In her experience as a girl, a surprise visit from Social Services meant trouble. It meant well-meaning neighbors had reported that her mother’s condition had worsened, and they thought someone other than a child should look after the house and Chloe.
Standing under the hot, stinging spray, Faith could only worry. Maybe Carter had issued a new complaint. It would be just like Nick’s father to want the babies fostered elsewhere. All kinds of frantic and suspicious thoughts ran through Faith’s mind as she showered, then toweled dry.
The whole process of showering, dressing and blowing her hair dry had taken no more than twenty minutes. Still, it was on shaking legs that Faith approached the living room.
Brian sat, a baby balanced on each knee. Otherwise, the room appeared empty.
“Where are our guests?”
Glancing up, Brian took in her wide eyes and colorless face. Even then, Faith looked beautiful to him and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “I think we provided more excitement than either of their hearts could handle.” He drawled. “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you looking better.”
“What did they want? Who filed a complaint? Have the babies been crying too much?”
“Burgess knew we’d made two trips to the doctor.”
“Damn.” She flopped suddenly into one of the chairs. “They were gathering dirt. And boy, we gave it to them, didn’t we?” closing her eyes, Faith sighed.
“Dirt? I’ll grant you the tables are dusty and the place looked a little untidy.” He grinned. “But if they were looking for dirt, they didn’t find any. I bathed the babies this morning. They could see the laundry was done.”
“Not that kind of dirt, Brian. Don’t joke about it. I mean scandal. They’ll think we’re living together.”
“We are, sort of. I moved some stuff into the guest room after you got sick.”
“You told them you were sleeping in the guest room?”
“No, they didn’t ask. They didn’t ask much of anything. In fact, I can’t figure out why they bothered to come.”
Faith shook her head. “I told you, they were snooping.”
“For whom? And what conclusion could they draw that would be so bad? Look around you, Faith. Baby things, car carriers, and playpen. From where Ms. Lang sat, she could see the rack of bottles in the kitchen. Plus, I had enough clothes spread out here to outfit quintuplets. These babies are obviously well looked after. Anyway, who would report us? And why?”
“Chloe probably didn’t tell you—-I doubt she wanted to bring it up. Social Services wanted to take us away from Mom and Dad more than once. It was awful.”
“What I’m telling you is that they’d have to really twist things to make you seem unfit.”
“They don’t lie, but they can word the truth so that a judge might wonder if we’re doing a good job. For instance, the report could read, 'Dr. Littrell appeared to have fed the twins. He left the babies in a playpen and folded clean clothes throughout our visit. At ten to eleven, Miss Hyatt wandered out of the bedroom in her nightgown.' Look at the inferences that can be drawn.”
“I see. Someone looking for dirt, as you phrased it, might conclude a number of things.” He ticked them off on his fingers. “We aren’t married. Possibly cohabiting. We’re neglecting the babies. I’m doing all the work and you’re a lazy bum.”
Faith’s lips thinned. “Right. Why did they show up this morning of all mornings? Did you call them?”
“What?!” he yelped so loudly Elyse started to cry. “Shh, shhh, honey.” Rocking her to calm her, Brian glared at Faith over the top of her fuzzy head. “You don’t really think I’d do such a thing, I hope.”
She linked her hands and stared at them. “While I was in the shower, I started adding up a few things.”
“Like what? Why do I have the feeling I don’t wanna hear this?”
“Whose idea was it to drive down the coast? Yours. Maybe you knew about the storm in advance. Maybe you set me up. It wasn’t my friend who so conveniently had a cabin nearby. Ha! I ruined your plan to seduce and discredit me. How lucky for you I got sick when I did, Brian, because you still managed to damage my reputation with Burgess and Lang-—especially when they saw me waltz out wearing a see-through nightgown.”
“For crying out loud! With that imagination, why are you a nurse? You ought to write novels.”
“Really? If my idea’s so far-fetched, how come I never saw any sign that you were interested in me? Not before you met Chloe, or in the past five weeks?”
“The signs were there, Faith. I can’t help it if you only see what you want to see. And I don’t know how to prove what goes on in my head while I sleep. But I can tell you that if you had a window in my mind you wouldn’t like what you’d see.”
She blushed at that. Her fingers flexed several times. She did not lift her head to meet his eyes. If she had, Brian figured she’d see the hunger in them. He considered getting off the couch, putting down the babies and taking her in his arms. But the phone rang, shattering his intentions.
Faith crossed the room and snatched it up. “David.” She said in obvious surprise. “How good of you to call and check in on us. I'm recovering from the flu. The babies both have colds. One of Evan’s ears is infected. Yes, I’m much better, thanks, and so are they.”
Brian saw her grip the phone more tightly. She put out a hand to steady herself against the wall. He knew something was wrong and felt his own stomach tighten in response. If Lang and Burgess had caused trouble, they hadn’t wasted any time.
He stood and paced the floor behind Faith until she hung up. “Well?” he exclaimed the minute she’d replaced the receiver. “What’s going on?”
“The DNA results are back, Brian.” Faith said in a flat tone.
“So what did it prove? Am I the twins’ father?” he asked.
“David didn’t know the results. The judge has them. Apparently they’ll remain sealed until we all meet in her chambers again.”
“When?” he barely mouthed the word.
“Tomorrow at two o’clock. I’m to arrange for a sitter, David said.”
A pent-up breath escaped Brian’s lips. “At least the wait will soon be over. This waiting’s making everyone nuts.”
“Before I went in to take my shower, I remember thinking my day couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong.” Tears pooled along her lower eyelids as Faith cuddled Elyse close and kissed her fiercely.
