Jacqueline Diamond - The Baby Bonanza

“For round two, contestants have to diaper the doll blindfolded,” Rod added mischievously. A few people laughed, while Dawn’s jaw set with determination. That kid would do it upside down and sideways to win, Lucky thought. With that attitude, she’d go far in life.

Then he caught the sound he’d been waiting for—the doorbell. His pulse sped up. “I’ll get it.”

Someone else reached the door first, however, and friends rushed to greet the Rattigans. Despite his impatience, Lucky hung back.

With her friendly manner and elfin face, Stacy had a kind word for everyone. Her mild-mannered husband said little; Cole’s reticence, Lucky knew, stemmed partly from the urologist’s discomfort in social situations. It was also partly the result of having a brain so brilliant that he was probably carrying on half a dozen internal conversations with himself at any given moment.

Lucky could barely contain his eagerness to speak with the great man privately and find out if the device lived up to its promise. However, he drew the line at elbowing guests aside.

Stacy oohed over Anya’s newborn and hugged Betsy, her former mother-in-law. The room quieted as the first Mrs. Andrew Raditch came face-to-face with the woman who had cheated with him before being discarded in turn. Most of the staff had cheered at Zora’s misfortune, believing she was receiving her just deserts. Lucky was ashamed to admit he’d been among them. Now he wished he could spare her this awkwardness.

“Wow! Look at you.” Stacy patted Zora’s belly. “Have you chosen names yet?”

“Still searching,” she said with a tentative smile. “For now, Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

This light exchange broke the tension. With her new marriage, Stacy had clearly moved on, and with her courtesy toward Zora, she’d brought her old nemesis in from the cold.

Silently, Lucky thanked her. Cole had chosen a worthy wife.

The game began, with guests lining up to participate. Seizing his chance, Lucky approached his boss, who spoke without prompting.

“I know you’re anxious for news, Luke.” Cole used Lucky’s formal name. “Let’s talk.”

“We’ll have more privacy in here.” Lucky led the way into the now-empty living room.

* * *

ZORA HAD NO interest in diapering a baby. She’d be doing more than her share of that soon.

Stacy’s display of friendliness left her both relieved and oddly shaky. Having been treated as a pariah by much of the hospital staff for several years, Zora still felt vulnerable as well as guilty.

Also, Stacy’s question about the names reminded Zora of her idea to leave the decision until they were born. She’d figured that if Andrew had a chance to choose the names, it might help bond him with the little ones. Today, however, the prospect of what lay ahead was sinking in.

For starters, what was she planning to do, call him from the delivery room and break the news of his paternity over the phone while writhing in agony? This kind of information should be presented in person, and she ought to get it over with now. Yet being around Andrew brought out Zora’s weakness for him; the ease with which he’d seduced her when she dropped by with their divorce papers proved that.

If only Lucky would stop poking at her, she’d be able to think clearly. It might be unfair to focus her anger on her housemate, but this was none of his business. And why had he, one of the party’s hosts, hustled Dr. Rattigan off in such a hurry?

Hungry as usual these days, Zora munched on a peanut butter–filled celery stick from the snack table. Keely drifted alongside, following her gaze as Lucky vanished. “Nice build,” the older nurse observed in her nasal voice.

Amused, Zora said, “I don’t believe he’s dating anyone. Interested?”

Keely snorted. “Not my type.”

Zora didn’t dare ask what that was.

A hint of beer breath alerted her to Laird Maclaine’s approach. The psychologist must have downed a brew before arriving, because they weren’t serving alcohol.

“We’re discussing Mendez?” He addressed his question to Zora, ignoring Keely. “If he snags a better job with that new master’s degree of his, I’d love to rent his room. I hear it has an en suite bathroom.”

“En suite?” Keely repeated. “What a pretentious term.”

Laird rolled his eyes.

“He isn’t leaving.” While Zora understood Lucky’s desire for advancement, she couldn’t imagine him abandoning his friends.

The psychologist shrugged. “Either way, this is a fantastic party house. I’m expecting to move in next weekend.”

Astonished, Zora slanted an assessing gaze at the psychologist. From an objective viewpoint, Laird wasn’t bad-looking, although bland compared to Lucky, and she respected him for initiating and leading patient support groups. But it would be annoying to have to run into this conceited guy every morning over breakfast and every night at dinner.

Impulsively, she addressed Keely. “We have an empty room that used to be Melissa’s. Any chance you’re interested?”

“It’s taken, by me,” Laird rapped out.

“Nothing’s settled,” Zora said.

“Don’t you already have two men living here?” Keely inquired. “You and Karen should bring in another woman. I’d join you, but I couldn’t do that to my roommate.”

“You wouldn’t fit in, anyway,” Laird growled.

That remark didn’t deserve a response. “Who’s your roommate?” Zora asked Keely. “Do I know her?”

“Oh, she doesn’t work at the medical complex,” the nurse responded. “She’s a housekeeper.”

“I admire your loyalty to her.”

“Anyone would do the same.”

A stir across the den drew their attention. It was Dawn Everhart’s turn at the game. Deftly, the little girl rolled the doll with an elbow, tugged on one diaper tab with her fingers and caught the other in her mouth, all while onlookers captured the moment with their cell phones.

“Unsanitary,” Laird protested.

“But clever,” Rod responded from his post beside Karen. “Besides, it’s a doll.”

“And she’s beating the pants off everyone else’s time,” Edmond observed, beaming at his niece. “Literally.”

Her feet having swollen to the size of melons, Zora wandered into the kitchen and sat down. Through the far door, she detected the low rumble of masculine voices in the living room.

What were Lucky and his boss discussing so intently? Had Cole made job inquiries at the conference for his nurse’s sake? Although she’d instinctively dismissed Laird’s comment about Lucky moving, the man couldn’t be expected to waste his master’s degree.

If Lucky departed, who would run out for ice cream when she had a craving? Lucky had promised to haul two bassinets and a changing table to the second floor as soon as she was ready for them. Without him around, who would cart her stuff up and down the stairs? She certainly couldn’t count on Laird pitching in.

Well, she’d survive. In fact, she shouldn’t be relying on Lucky so much, anyway. Zora hated to depend on others, especially someone so controlling and critical and arrogant and judgmental. She might not have the world’s best taste in men, but she knew what she didn’t like, and Lucky epitomized it. Now what were he and Dr. Rattigan talking about so intently?

No matter how hard she strained, she couldn’t follow the thread of conversation from the living room. Just when she caught a couple of words, a burst of cheering from the den obliterated the rest of the doctor’s comments.

Judging by the clamor, Dawn had edged out Anya’s husband, Jack, by two seconds. “I can visualize the headline now—Seven-year-old Defeats Obstetrician in Diapering Contest!” roared Rod, who, as Jack’s uncle, had the privilege of ragging him mercilessly. “I’m posting the pictures on the internet.”