Free The Baby Jackpot by Jacqueline Diamond Page A

noise, too many hard-to-control factors
and too many relatives swamping the waiting rooms and demanding updates.
    Also, Cole had been so absorbed in the medical details of
delivering babies and attending to the mothers that he’d paid little attention
to the infants. Yes, there’d been a rush of appreciation every time he held a
newborn, but he’d also been sharply aware of their fragility, and was happy to
transfer them into someone else’s capable hands. Once they were safely
delivered, they belonged to the nurses, pediatricians and, of course, the
parents.
    He followed the signs to the viewing window at the nursery.
Prepared for a vista of tiny people, Cole stared in dismay at the mostly empty
bassinets. Only a few little ones lay sleeping beneath the attentive eye of a
nurse, and they weren’t close enough to the window for him to see well.
    A passing doctor, dark-haired with a short mustache, paused to
ask, “What brings you here, Cole?” His name tag read Jared Sellers, M.D.,
Neonatologist.
    Cole had no intention of explaining his reasons, especially to
someone he only vaguely recognized. Still, he appreciated the other doctor’s
courtesy. “Are all the babies in the patients’ rooms?”
    Jared nodded. “You’ll see more of them in intermediate care,
just around the corner.”
    “Thanks.”
    “Not too many urologists drop by to visit the babies.”
    Was the staff always this curious? “Maybe they should.”
Impulsively, Cole added, “Do you have kids?”
    Out came the cell phone, and an image of a baby appeared, a
pink bow decorating her reddish-brown curls. “That’s my daughter, Bonnie. She’s
two months old,” the neonatologist said. “My wife, Lori, is on leave from her
job as Dr. Rayburn’s nurse. I’m not sure if she can bear to go back to work in
another month and put our little girl in day care.”
    This was more information than Cole wanted. “She’s adorable.”
That seemed like the right thing to say.
    “And supersmart,” Jared enthused. “She’s curious about
everything. For her age, she has great head and neck control.”
    Cole had never considered babies interesting until they
achieved such milestones as sitting up, standing or talking. Obviously, parents
noted small markers that he’d never considered.
    Will I be like that?
    What was he thinking? He wasn’t going to be around. No photos
in his cell phone. No idea how his son or daughter was developing.
    He’d better get moving before the other doctor repeated the
question about what he was doing there. “I’d better be off,” he said.
“Congratulations on your daughter.”
    “Thanks.” Jared was too busy reviewing images—quite a few,
apparently—to glance up from his phone.
    Cole debated stopping by the intermediate care facility, but
his initial impulse to view babies now seemed ill-considered. Instead, he went
outside to his bike. He’d resumed cycling to work once his knee recovered, and
he was glad now for the exercise. It helped settle his thoughts.
    As he pumped along Hospital Way, one theme emerged. He had to
talk to Stacy about how they were going to manage this pregnancy. That was his
baby in there, and while he respected her right to give it up for adoption, he
intended to be involved until it was delivered.
    * * *
    S TACY STAYED IN BED most of Saturday
morning, sipping orange-flavored herbal tea. Her troublesome stomach had gone
into overdrive, leaving her perpetually queasy and sleepy.
    If only her mother were here to fix toast and fuss over her.
Several times, Stacy reached for the phone to call her, but she didn’t feel up
to explaining everything. Besides, Ellen Layne led a busy life, running a shop,
making stuffed animals and helping her namesake, Stacy’s older sister Ellie,
care for her four children.
    Then there was Dad’s reaction to consider. Alastair Layne had
always been meticulous both in his work as a pharmacist and in raising his
daughters. Other girls were allowed to wear skimpy