Jacqueline Diamond - Surprise, Doc! You're A Daddy!

Hugh wondered if that was possible.

On the long drive back to Mercy Canyon, Meg battled annoyance and embarrassment as she mentally replayed her meeting with the two doctors. Fortunately, her much-repaired old car rattled along steadily, although the radio was broken and she had to keep the window down to cool the interior.

The brother—Andrew Menton, she remembered from seeing his name on the door—had made her feel sleazy. As for Hugh Menton, he was her Joe right down to his fancy vocabulary and the small scar on his temple. His reserved manner and even temper matched the man she knew, as well.

Meg had instantly recognized the masculine timbre of his voice and the endearing way he ducked his head. When he came close, she’d caught a whiff of the man who’d thrilled her every time he held her. The man she knew with every inch of her body.

Yet he was a complete stranger.

Joe had been an ordinary working guy, blue-collar like her. A man who went bowling with friends and shared the trailer she’d bought with her hard-earned money.

It was doubtful that Dr. Hugh Menton had ever set foot in a trailer. Not unless he’d conked his head and completely lost his marbles, which, when they got the DNA results, was how he would no doubt account for having fathered a child with Meg.

She remembered her first reaction on seeing the newspaper photo, when her brother, Tim, brought it back from L.A. “A doctor?” she’d said. “Look at him in that tuxedo! Come on. My Joe would never rent a tuxedo to go to a dinner.”

Sam, the owner of the Back Door Cafe, had peered over her shoulder at the clipping. “He probably owns the tuxedo.”

“Can you own one?” Tim asked. “I thought you just rented them for special occasions.”

Judy Hartman, Sam’s wife, had poured more coffee for a customer before responding, “I bet you could buy one used, after you rented it.”

“A doctor wouldn’t need to buy a used tuxedo,” Sam said.

They’d debated the topic for a few more minutes before new arrivals at the cafe demanded their attention. Looking back, Meg felt her cheeks get hot.

She could imagine the sneer on Andrew Menton’s face if he had heard their discussion. Having seen that expensive office with its big fish tank, thick carpet and elaborate play area, she didn’t doubt that both doctors owned tuxedoes. Heck, they probably put one on to take out the trash.

She grinned at the image of snobbish Andrew Menton in a tuxedo, carrying a smelly bag of trash. Except that his family must hire servants to do that kind of thing.

She and Hugh lived in different worlds. Unimaginably different.

It was Meg’s friends who’d persuaded her to go to L.A. Tim, Sam and Judy all agreed that the man looked like Joe. So did their bowling buddies Ramon and Rosa Mendez.

“What can it hurt?” Rosa had asked. “You need to take Dana to the doctor anyway. So you make an extra long drive and get a good look at the man. If it’s not him, say ‘hasta la vista, baby,’ and drive away.”

“If it is him, he owes you plenty,” said Ramon. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying you should be greedy. But he’s Dana’s father.”

For her daughter’s sake, Meg had finally decided to go. She’d struggled financially these past two years to support herself and a small child. Friends had helped with baby-sitting, Tim and her father had given her what money they could spare, and she’d muddled through.

It hadn’t been easy, though, and it would get even harder as Dana grew up. Eventually she would realize that other girls didn’t wear homemade clothes or eat macaroni and cheese three nights a week.

With a sigh, Meg remembered Hugh’s offer of free antibiotic samples. She’d been too proud to accept it. Now, as she stopped by the local pharmacy to fill the prescription, she winced at the cost.

She’d been planning to buy Dana a tricycle soon. It would have to wait until Christmas. Later, as she turned into the trailer park, Meg couldn’t help seeing it with critical eyes. The residences were parked close together, with only space for a few flowers in front. Most people kept their units tidy and so did she, but her paint was chipped and the awning had rust streaks.

A wave of longing rushed over her. She and Joe had cherished dreams of buying their own home. Nothing elaborate; a modest three-bedroom fixer-upper.

They’d talked about decorating a nursery, and putting a workshop for Joe in the garage. “I want an extra freezer so I can stock up on meat and pizza when they’re on sale,” Meg had said, relishing the prospect after battling to stuff food into a tiny, overcrowded freezer compartment.

She wanted her Joe back, the man who had shared those dreams. A man who would never have imagined owning a tuxedo or even renting one. He’d worn a plain suit for their wedding, looking heart-stoppingly handsome in the dark fabric.

Meg parked alongside her trailer and lifted Dana from her seat. By the porch, a stray cat who’d been hanging around regarded them with mingled hope and fear. Its fur had a pandalike pattern of black and white.

“Pat kitty!” cried Dana.

“Not right now.” Even in September, this far inland the temperatures soared, and Meg was eager to turn on a fan and make iced tea. “Let’s go inside.”

“Feed kitty?” her daughter asked.

“We shouldn’t encourage him,” Meg said. “We can’t afford a pet.”

Inside, the trailer was stifling. She opened the windows and fixed cold drinks.

After the spaciousness of Hugh’s office, her home felt cramped. Meg tried not to notice the odds and ends of furniture bought at garage sales.

It wasn’t the lack of frills that bothered her. It was the absence of the man she loved. And something else.

As she sank onto the couch, watching Dana play with her favorite dolls, Meg realized what was troubling her.

For two years, she’d refused to give up hope. Even when she saw the doubt in some people’s eyes, she’d persisted in believing that Joe loved her and that, when she found him, they would resume their life together.

Now, perhaps, she had found him, but if Hugh Menton was Joe, he wasn’t her Joe. He might as well live on Jupiter.

Maybe, as Andrew had said, she was in love with someone who didn’t exist. For the first time, Meg had to face the possibility that she might never get her husband back.

NO LETTER came for Hugh on Thursday or Friday. He put in a call to Dr. Vanessa Archikova, director of the Whole Child Project at Pacific West Coast University, and had to leave a message.

It was not a good sign.

Less than a month remained before the research program started. If they wanted him, surely they’d have notified him by now. There was nothing wrong with the job he had, Hugh reflected as he paused between patients to update his notes. Counseling anxious parents, healing injured or ailing children and referring the rare serious cases to the best specialists were valuable services.

Yet a chasm lurked inside him. If his application were rejected, he needed to find some other way to give meaning to his life.

The Whole Child Project, funded by a private research grant, had been designed by a panel of experts headed by Dr. Archikova. It proposed to use medical personnel, in conjunction with parents and schools, to coordinate the care of a group of poor children in hopes of making a large impact on their futures.

Many of the kids came from homeless families. Others lived in foster homes. Most had borderline nutritional and behavioral disorders.

Government-run attempts to help them had bogged down in paperwork and politics. The Whole Child Project was their last chance.

It would be thrilling to make a difference for those kids, Hugh thought. He’d always loved children. Maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about one particular little girl with flaming red hair and elfin features.