Judy Baer - Oh, Baby!

“What are you doing here? And what’s that?” He pointed to Hildy.

“We work here, thank you very much. This is my dog, Hildegard, and she’s a therapy dog. We hang out at River’s View quite a bit. The better question is this—what are you doing here? Surely not delivering babies?”

A faint smile quirked his lips and hinted at what it might be like to see the man actually smile. Dazzling, I surmised.

“I have friends, too, you know. Maybe I’m visiting someone.”

“You just moved here.”

“Perhaps I bond quickly with people.”

I’d opened my mouth to tell him that that was as unlikely as snow in August before I realized he was actually teasing me.

I, who can babble like a brook, suddenly couldn’t think of anything to say. The man’s presence was intimidating, not only because he had influence over my welcome at Bradshaw, but because he gave off an impressive aura—solid, impenetrable and capable of harboring secrets like Fort Knox shelters gold. I shuffled a little and Hildy looked at me inquiringly. “I guess we’d better get going. Nice to see you, Dr. Reynolds.”

He nodded curtly and returned to reading the chart, as if Hildy and I no longer existed.

We were almost home before I realized that I still didn’t know why Dr. Reynolds had been at the nursing home. It was curious, really. He’d just moved to the Cities, after all. How many people could he know here? He really was a man of mystery. Too bad he was also in the role of dream squasher for me. Otherwise I might have been intrigued, very intrigued.

When we got home, Lissy, Geranium and Tony were watching television in my living room. There were empty tortilla chip bags, soda cans, a carton of guacamole and a nearly depleted bag of red licorice twists on my coffee table. Geranium had her nose in one of the bags of chips, and Tony was eating a bowl of ice cream smothered in butter-scotch topping and walnuts.

Hildy trotted immediately to the table to see what she could lick clean. Geranium gave a squeal of protest when the dog nosed her out of the way but toddled off when Hildy wouldn’t back down.

“I leave this house for a couple hours and it’s vandalized. I’m going to have to move to a better neighborhood.”

“That’s the thanks we get for keeping Geri company?” Tony looked genuinely hurt, as if his eating all the groceries I’d purchased yesterday were no big deal.

“Oh, sorry. Thank you. I think.”

“You’re most welcome.”

“His date stood him up,” Lissy said, her eyes never moving from the television screen where some wannabe singer was auditioning for a panel of judges.

“She had appendicitis,” Tony corrected. “That’s not exactly being ‘stood up.’”

“Why aren’t you at her bedside making points and ensuring your place in history as the world’s most romantic male nurse?”

“That would be too pushy. I don’t want to scare her off.”

“When did this cautiousness come about?” Lissy inquired.

“I’m still waiting for Molly to admit she’s in love with me. I don’t want anyone else to get too crazy about me in the meantime.”

“Right,” I said with a laugh. “Have you seen anyone about your delusions? They have medication for that, you know.”

“‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.’”

Tony grinned at me and went back to his butter-scotch-walnut sundae.

Lissy, who had coaxed Geranium to her with a potato chip and was using her as a footstool, inquired, “Why do people always name pigs after flowers? Geranium, Petunia…” She took a swig of her soda.

“Don’t forget about Miss Piggy,” Tony pointed out. “She’s no flower.”

“Geranium was named before I got her. If I’d purchased her as a piglet, I would have named her something else.”

“Like what?” Lissy leaned forward and scratched Geri behind the ear, and Geri grunted in appreciation.

“Piggy Sue.”

“I know what I would have named her,” Tony said dreamily.

We both eyed him warily.

“Spamela Anderson.”

A gusher of soda erupted from Lissy’s mouth and she started to cough. Tony helpfully slammed her on the back a few times.

Fortunately the phone rang, and I was able to leave the Two Stooges to clean up after themselves.

“Molly? It’s me, Mandie.”

“Are you…”

“In labor? No, but the baby is kicking up a storm. I just needed someone to talk to. My roommate is out on a date, and my mom’s not home.”

“I’m here for you.”

“I know.” There was a catch in her voice. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Sadly, the father of Mandie’s child, the one who should have been present for her, was a sore subject. He was, unfortunately, long gone. She didn’t even know how to reach him. God knew what He was doing when He instructed His children to wait for marriage to be intimate. Mandie is the perfect example of how things can go wrong when kids do it the other way around.

“What’s been going on?”

“I can feel the baby’s position in my belly. It’s weird to think of this little person inside me.”

“It shouldn’t be long now,” I said. “Have you got a bag packed?”

“Everything on the list you gave me. Are you sure you’ll be here in time?”

“Call me as soon as you notice anything different and I’ll be there.”

I often start with the mother at home and travel with her and her husband to the hospital. That leaves a nervous father to pay attention to traffic rather than be distracted by the huffing and puffing in the passenger seat.

“I feel better now,” Mandie said. “I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Anytime.”

“If you ever want me to give you a recommendation or anything, I’ll give you the best one ever.”

“You haven’t even had the baby yet,” I reminded her.

“I don’t care. You’ve already saved my sanity.”

As I returned to the living room, I thought about Dr. Reynolds. If only he would talk to Mandie, maybe he’d change his mind about my profession. Then I recalled the look on his face when he’d first seen me in Brenda’s birthing room. Or maybe not.

Tony must have read my mind, because as soon as he saw me he said, “I got some scuttlebutt on Dr. Reynolds today.”

“The Mount Rushmore of doctors?” Lissy sat up a little straighter and Geri trotted off. “Old stone face?”

“He does have a child, a little boy. The rumor mill was right.”

“When did he take time off to have a child?”

I poked Lissy with my finger. “Be nice.”

“He’s not nice.” She pouted. “Why should I be? I heard him order a midwife to get out of the room when she crossed him today. Fortunately he allowed her back in later, but…”

There was one lone chip left in the bottom of the bag on the coffee table. I shook it into my hand. “Maybe I could get a loan from the donated money to start a doula center somewhere else if Reynolds nixes it at Bradshaw. That wouldn’t be so bad. I probably wouldn’t need much out of pocket.”

“Put your own finances into a concept that would be perfect at Bradshaw? I don’t think so. They need you. It’s a wonderful, woman-friendly idea.”

“We’re covering the same territory again,” I reminded Lissy wearily, tired of talking and getting nowhere.

I turned to Tony. “A son, huh?”

“He’s about six years old and his name is Noah. That’s all I know. Apparently Dr. Reynolds is closemouthed about him, too. I wouldn’t even know this but his receptionist let it slip.”

“Aren’t you dating his receptionist—among others?”

Tony shrugged helplessly, as if he had no control over his bountiful love life.

Lissy sighed. “It’s just not fair. All I want is one good man, just one, and Tony has a whole field of flowers to pick from.”