The Heart Doctor and the Baby

“I’ll get right to it,” René said and smiled, fingering a printout report. “I received your endometrial biopsy results this morning, and they were benign.” She smiled again, and noticed that relief hadn’t washed away the couple’s furrowed brows and apprehensive eyes. “That means it was negative. You’re clean. No more cancer.”

The middle-aged patient and her husband shared a sigh, smiled and hugged. The scene made René wish all her medical “news” could be as good.

After they stood and shook hands, and René had instructed the patient to stop by Gaby’s desk and make a follow-up appointment, she folded her arms and paced the room. She was at her prime, in excellent physical condition, and good health should never be taken for granted. Now was the perfect time…for…

Her eyes drifted to the one wall reserved for every baby she’d ever delivered. The ever-growing collage of pictures—big and small, ornate and plain—called out to her. She scanned the gallery and thought again about becoming a mother. Chills tickled her neck.

She sat at her desk, stared at the detailed crown molding along the ceiling and tapped a light rhythm with her pen. More exciting thoughts about parenthood whispered through her mind. Her dream really could come true. She could barely wait.

With her restless gaze wandering the expanse of the office, she nibbled a fingernail, while her crossed leg pumped a breakneck beat. On the opposite wall was a framed photograph of the four MidCoast Medical partners the day the clinic had opened. She meandered over and took the picture in her hands. They all smiled. She was flanked by Jon on one side and Philip on the other, and next to Jon stood Jason, the owner of the building. The day was one of the happiest of her life. She remembered hugging each of them, and sharing a bottle of champagne. She thought about the hope they all had, and the desire to serve the local Santa Barbara community, back before Jason’s wife and daughter had died and Jon was still happily married.

She’d expected to marry, too, but life had surprised them all. Only Philip, the happy bachelor, seemed to make it through the past five years unscathed.

Well, it was her chance now. The sperm bank had called to tell her Jon had made an appointment for today—Valentine’s Day! He had skipped part of his morning clinic for an appointment, and she’d quietly chuckled over the reason—to donate his sperm, designated for her. But when it hit her between the eyes that her dream was about to come true, the gesture touched her so deeply she’d flat-out cried. Now she grinned and shook her head. Jon was right about two things: he was full of surprises, and no matter what happened after this, their relationship would never be the same.

Who knows how long she stared at the photograph. Jon’s image made her smile. His lanky frame, angular features, friendly demeanor and over-the-top intelligence gave her confidence she’d chosen the right man, and right now, she owed him another gigantic thank-you. And maybe another home-cooked meal?

Jon stared down Antonin Grosso. The stocky man sat across from his desk with arms folded, and a stubborn glint in his eyes.

“Your thallium treadmill showed an abnormality suggestive of arterial blockage.”

The man scrubbed his face with a beefy hand. “Please, doctor, I’m a butcher—speak the English!”

Jon grimaced. True, layman’s terms were his downfall. “You may have a blocked artery in your heart. I can’t stress enough the need for an angiogram. Oh, uh, that’s a study that will tell me if any of your heart arteries are blocked.” He fished through his patient education pamphlets and found the right one, then handed it to him.

“I no need this test. I feel fine.”

“Feeling fine and being fine are two different things, Mr. Grosso.” Jon ran his hand over his stiff spiky hair and reconsidered the explanation in butcher’s vernacular. “Take your prime beef. It may look fine, but until the U.S. government checks it out and approves it, you won’t know if it’s diseased or not.” He stared at the man while the analogy computed. “You look good. You feel good. But your heart isn’t so good. This study says so. We may need to unplug the arteries so your heart gets more blood and feels better.”

Something clicked. The man’s expression brightened. “You mean like that plumbing guy? My pipes need cleaning?”

Jon snapped his fingers and pointed at Mr. Grosso. “Exactly! Your pipes may need cleaning out. We need to schedule an appointment for a special test to decide if they do.”

“I don’t know. That sounds dangerous. I need to talk to my wife first.”

“Okay. Talk to your wife, but make it soon. I’ll talk to her, too, if you’d like. Bottom line—you need this test, Mr. Grosso.”

“Okay, okay, but I feel fine.” He rose to leave, and Jon stood, too.

“It’s Friday. I want to hear from you by next Wednesday.” Jon waved the EKG and treadmill results around to impress the patient that he had solid proof he needed the angiogram. “You have to get this done ASAP.”

The man glanced over his shoulder, then hung his head when he grabbed the doorknob. “We’ll see,” he mumbled.

Jon sat on the edge of his solid oak behemoth of a desk and shook his head. Before he had the chance to mutter a single curse, something grabbed his attention, and two young ladies rushed him.

“Dad!”

“Hi, Daddy!”

Amanda and Lacy threw their arms around him and hung tight. Every frustrated physician-oriented thought he’d been thinking flew out of his head. His teenage daughters had a way of doing that for him.

“Hey!” he said, smiling. “You guys are early.”

“Mom had a hot date,” Lacy said, with a strong hint of sarcasm.

Ack. Cherie hadn’t even tried to hide her multiple trysts from the girls since the divorce. Hell, she’d started extramarital dating before they’d even finalized the divorce. The thought still boiled his blood.

While deep in a group hug, he noticed René walk up to his door. Her intent expression changed to comprehension when she spied the girls. Since his office was in the back of the building, and the copying machines and bathrooms were in the middle, he knew she only came to this part of the clinic if she needed to talk to him.

She shook her head and flipped her hand in a wave, mouthed “thank you” and started to walk away. The sparkle in her eyes, since he’d agreed to be her sperm donor, had made everyone in the clinic take note. He’d heard his nurses comment to each other. “What’s up with Dr. Munroe?” “I wonder if she’s in love!”

His daughters turned their heads toward the door and caught sight of René just as she turned to leave. “I just wanted to wish you a happy Valentine’s Day, Jon,” she said, expertly covering for herself.

“Hey, same to you.”

He grinned at the thought of having put that gleam in her flashing eyes. Briefly, he wondered what would have transpired if his daughters hadn’t arrived early. Would she give him another squeeze of the hand and kiss on the cheek, a gorgeously grateful smile, and eyes so filled with joy his heart would palpitate? He felt guilty how simple his part of the agreement was, but if she wanted to make this huge deal out of it, it was fine with him. As long as no one found out. As long as it wouldn’t change his life or routine, or plans for China.