She blinked back tears. “That’s lucky, because I’m not anywhere
near perfect.” She’d tried with all her might to do everything right, for her
parents, for Andrew, for Una. Still she somehow always came up short.
Maybe that didn’t matter.
“I’m sorry I made you cry.” Ned placed a hand on her arm.
Stacy threw her arms around him. “Thank you, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For telling me that it’s okay to act stupid.”
Ned returned the hug. “Hey, if you liked that—uh, Stacy, you’re
completely hideous. What do I get now?”
“A punch in the jaw.”
“Try the left side,” he said. “I cut the right side
shaving.”
Stacy broke out laughing. Then she glanced across the room and
saw Cole staring at the two of them. Mouth tightening, he gripped his tray and
headed in the opposite direction.
Oh, great. She’d messed up again.
* * *
S
ITTING
ON
THE
PATIO
, chewing and swallowing food that formed lumps in his stomach,
Cole wondered why he’d imagined he could walk up to Stacy in the cafeteria and
magically vanquish her objections.
He knew she wasn’t in love with Ned, but she acted different
with him and her other friends than she did with Cole. He’d never been good with
people. “Emotionally tone deaf” was how a former coworker had described him.
“Somewhere to the right of the autism spectrum” had been Felicia’s biased
conclusion.
Yet since his involvement with Stacy, he’d gotten to know Zack
and Owen on a personal level. He’d fixed food for a housewarming party, and
helped Adrienne plant her garden. He’d babysat Mia, all by himself.
Because of Stacy, Cole had formed connections. He would forever
be grateful for the vistas she’d opened up, he reflected, staring into a
container of chocolate milk.
Too bad she’d broken his heart in the process.
* * *
C
OLE
HAD
RETREATED
onto the patio, Stacy noted as she set her
tray on the conveyer belt. Although tempted to scoot out after him, she was
keenly aware of the interested gazes of practically everyone in the
cafeteria.
Besides, what could she say, other than that she’d been an
idiot? A simple “I love you” might do the trick. But it didn’t feel like
enough.
Despite all she’d learned in the past few days, Stacy still
believed that people in love ought to be swept away. That the decision to launch
a life together should start with a brass band, speeches and a bottle of
champagne smashing across the hull of a ship. Or a reasonable equivalent.
Besides, she had another surgery to prepare for. Aching for the
solitary man sitting outside alone, Stacy forced herself to walk away.
Chapter Nineteen
Since he relied on a digital calendar, by late June
Cole had long ago thrown out the free paper calendars that came in the mail or
were dropped on his desk by pharmaceutical reps. Even online, he couldn’t find
one with photos of gardens—or better yet, babies—and settled for a site that
allowed him to print out pages for each month through the beginning of next
year. They might not look like much, but they added a touch of personality to
his tiny suite.
Most likely Stacy would deliver early, given the potential
complications of bearing triplets. Still, Cole circled her due date in
February.
During the evenings that week, he filled in details of how her
pregnancy was likely to progress. Presently, at week nine—calculated from the
first day of her last period—a typical baby was about an inch long, able to
bring its tiny hands together over its heart.
The tenth week would mark the end of the embryonic phase and
the start of the fetal period. Rapid growth would double the baby’s length by
week eleven, with fingernails developing. At week twelve, most likely Stacy’s
morning sickness would begin to ease. Of course, with triplets, things might be
different.
All the while, Cole recognized that this was an exercise in
futility. Each day since Monday, he’d meant to sign the relinquishment form and
put Stacy’s mind to rest. He hadn’t forgotten his intention of talking to her
first, but once he did, he’d have no excuse to delay further. And he wasn’t
ready to abandon all hope.
At the hospital, she kept her distance, except for glancing at
him nervously once in a while. Her attitude seemed to be catching. On Friday,
although Stacy wasn’t present in the O.R., Cole noticed sideways glances between
the nurses, the anesthesiologist and the urologist, one of the hospital’s new
fellows, who was assisting him. But when he looked at them directly, each pair
of eyes was quickly averted.
Did this mean the press was again pushing some scandal? After a
flurry of reports about male suicides, reporters had stopped mentioning Cole.
Could his colleagues have heard something he’d missed?
He’d be just as happy to go on missing it. For now, he ignored
their irritating behavior.
Later, while cleaning up, he saw that Rod was wearing a red
T-shirt under his surgical scrubs. No big deal, except that, seen from the rear,
the assisting urologist wore what appeared to be an identical one.
Cole performed a quick mental check. Late June didn’t contain
any red-themed holidays as far as he knew. No Valentine’s Day, no red, white and
blue Fourth of July, no Christmas.
“What did you guys do, call each other this morning and
coordinate your wardrobes?” he asked.
Rod peered over his shoulder, without turning. “Cracking jokes
now, Doc?”
“Forget it.” What did he care if the guys dressed alike?
When Cole stepped out of the room, he narrowly avoided a
collision with the circulating nurse, who also wore a red T-shirt. At an angle,
he saw bold white lettering on the front. Before he could read the words, she
folded her arms across her chest.
“I wasn’t staring at...” He didn’t care to finish that
sentence.
“Sure you weren’t.” She grinned, apparently unoffended.
Down the hall came Zack Sargent, presumably done with his
surgery. He’d buttoned his white coat, but there was a patch of red at the
throat.
“I must have missed the memo,” Cole told him.
“Beg pardon?”
“It seems to be red T-shirt day.”
“Oh, that memo.” He paused but didn’t explain. “So, how’s it
going?”
“How’s what going?” Cole asked.
Down the hall, the elevator doors opened and Owen emerged. He
was wearing something red under his coat, too.
Cole could have kicked himself for failing to sift through his
email before heading into surgery. He’d lingered too long over breakfast,
jumping up to make notes on the calendar pages for July and August.
Wait a minute. Harper was coming from the stairs, with red
under her blue-flowered uniform. What was she doing here? She worked in the
medical office building.
Everyone was gathering in the hall, as if waiting for
something. Cole decided to wait, too.
The elevator opened again, releasing Ned and Lucky. Both had
red T-shirts peeking from beneath their navy uniforms. “Et tu, Brute?” Cole
asked, dismayed that his nurse hadn’t let him in on the secret.
“Where’s Stacy?” Lucky responded. “Oh, good, here she
comes.”
Around the corner, her sweet face flushed, came Stacy. She wore
something white, not red, under the V-neck of her light blue scrubs. Maybe she
hadn’t read the memo, either.
“Gang’s all here,” Ned called.
“Okay,” Cole said, “what’s the joke?”
As if at a signal—if there was one, he missed it—the people
around him pulled back their jackets to reveal white lettering on red fabric.
The T-shirts all said the same thing: Will You Marry Me?
“Is this some weird California ritual?” Cole asked.
Then he realized Stacy was pulling off her light blue top to
reveal her white T-shirt. In red letters it asked Will You Marry Me?
“What’s going on?” Cole inquired.
“I’m proposing,” she said.
No one moved. From down the hall, he heard the wheels of a
gurney rolling along. Other than that, silence reigned.
“To me?” he asked.
Rod rolled his eyes. “You better say yes before somebody else
takes her up on it.”
Cole swallowed, desperately hoping this was real. He felt as if
he should do something grand in return, like go down on one knee and produce a
ring, except he hadn’t bought one.
“You don’t have to say yes,” Stacy murmured.
That was it, the word he sought. “Yes!” he shouted, so loudly
the circulating nurse gave a startled jump, and Lucky blinked in surprise.
“Did anyone
not
hear that?” Owen
queried ironically.
“Yes!” Cole repeated. “I love you!”
“I love you, too,” Stacy choked out.
To hell with what people thought. Cole lunged over, scooped her
into his arms and kissed her. She melted against him, kissing him back. It felt
wonderful.
From behind, he heard people clapping. “Why don’t you guys go
eat lunch?” he called, casting a meaningful glare in their direction.
“You can keep the T-shirts,” Stacy added.
“I’m saving mine for April Fool’s Day,” Ned joked.
“I’m saving mine for Halloween.” Rod waggled his eyebrows.
They scuttled off, by stairs and by elevator, and for all Cole
cared, by emergency exit and rope-and-ladder.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He refused to let go, afraid that if he did,
Stacy might disappear and he’d wake up. He’d had a very vivid dream about her
once before, and the result had been triplets. He doubted he’d get that lucky
again.
She nestled against him. “Please forgive me for turning you
down in the first place. You’re a magnificent man and I can’t wait to spend the
rest of my life with you.”
“Does this mean I can move back in?” Cole chuckled at his own
question. “I guess that’s kind of a given, huh?”
Arms looped around his shoulders, Stacy tapped her forehead
against his. “Take as much time as you need to let this sink in.”
She understood him, Cole thought in wonder. She accepted that
he needed a few minutes to digest the breathtaking fact that they were engaged.
“We are keeping the babies, right?” Another foolish question, but she’d been so
determined to relinquish them.
Stacy smiled. “I told you once that there was a couple who were
meant to have these children. I finally figured out who it is.”
“Us?” he asked hopefully.
“You got it.”
“We can buy a house where they’ll have room to play,” Cole
ventured. “Or would you rather we spent the money on a big wedding?”
“Small wedding, big house,” Stacy affirmed.
“I’m glad.” He’d look for one with space for a garden as well
as a play area.
They were drawing curious glances from passing staff members
and a patient on a gurney, en route to surgery.
With a sigh, Stacy released him. “You can move your furniture
in this weekend. And you’re staying over with me tonight, okay?”
“You bet.” An idea occurred to him. “Is it all right if I put
something up on your wall? I started a countdown calendar for the triplets.”
“What a great idea.” She laced her fingers through his. “You’re
amazing.”
“I hope you mean that in a good way.” He’d been called amazing
before in a variety of contexts, not all flattering.
“Absolutely,” Stacy said. “Let’s have lunch. Our kids are
starving and so am I.”
“Did I tell you about eating dinner with Owen and the twins?”
Cole asked as they strolled hand in hand toward the elevator. “They do funny
things with their food.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” she answered,
laughing.
He wasn’t sure what he’d said to amuse her, but it didn’t
matter. Because Stacy loved him just as he was, and Cole planned on spending the
rest of his life making her happy.
* * *
H
E
’
D
NEVER
SLEPT
IN
Stacy’s bed before, Cole realized as he eased between the sheets in his crisp
pajamas. He loved the lily fragrance and silky texture of the sheets—and the
sight of Stacy’s body in a filmy nightgown, silhouetted against the light from
the bathroom.
“I always think it’s a shame to save the wedding night for
after the wedding,” she teased as she joined him in bed.
“We didn’t,” he pointed out.
“I keep forgetting how literal-minded you are.” Snuggling
against him, she kissed the hollow beneath his jaw.
Joyously, Cole rolled onto his side, stroking her hip and
waist. When his hand cupped her breast, she gasped.
He waited a second, to make sure she wasn’t objecting, and bent
to kiss the tight nub. Her sigh of pleasure tightened his body, making him hard
and eager.
Cole wished he was a more skilled lover. Fortunately, Stacy
didn’t hesitate to show him what she liked—long caresses, gentle kisses, his
bare body exploring and arousing hers.
When he slid inside her, he felt bathed in a glow, as if all
his cells were lightly shivering. Every movement simmered through him, and it
wasn’t nearly long enough before he lost control, moving harder and faster,
urged on by Stacy’s moans.
For a glorious instant, they fused, vibrating at exactly the
same frequency. The feeling ebbed slowly, leaving him with a sense of peace and
belonging.
“Was that...?” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
“Even better,” Stacy murmured.
“How soon can we get married?” While Cole didn’t believe she’d
change her mind, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“How about September?” she asked.
“Any particular reason?”
“The weather’s usually good.” She shrugged.
“This is Southern California. The weather’s always good,” he
pointed out.
She kissed his shoulder. “And I should still be able to walk
down the aisle.”
Cole recalled his image of rolling her down the aisle in a
bridal gown with her feet propped up. “That’s a good reason.”
Stacy didn’t seem to want to talk anymore. That was fine with
him.
There’d be plenty of time to make plans. All the time in the
world.
* * *
B
Y
S
UNDAY
EVENING
, Cole had moved his furniture back in, although he still
shared Stacy’s bed. Every time she touched his hair or felt his warmth against
her, she reveled in the magic that had caught her unawares. That old cliché
about looking for love in all the wrong places...if only she’d listened, she
could have had this sooner.
His printed-out calendar, tacked neatly on the wall in the
kitchen, told the story of the children growing inside her. While he washed the
dinner dishes, Stacy studied the entries, one hand over her abdomen.
Cole had incredibly neat handwriting. Everything about him was
orderly and reliable. Yet there was nothing stodgy about the joy on his face
when he looked at her.
How incredible that this had happened.
When the phone summoned her, Stacy scooped it from her pocket.
It was Ellen. Guiltily, she reflected that she hadn’t called her mother yet.
She’d been engaged for two entire days and she had no excuse for not notifying
her parents, except that her feelings for them were complicated.
She’d better get it over with. “Hi, Mom.”
“It’s been a week since I heard from you,” Ellen said. “Are you
okay?”
“Cole and I are getting married.” So much for subtlety. “Mom, I
can’t wait for you to meet him! Well, I guess you’ve seen him on the news. He’s
so wonderful.”
Stepping out of the kitchen, Cole gave a pleased wave. He
didn’t take the phone to introduce himself, though. Stacy was glad. She’d prefer
to prepare her fiancé before he chatted with his future in-laws.
He disappeared into the kitchen.
“I hope you aren’t doing this just to satisfy your father,”
Ellen said.
“Not at all.” Had her mom missed the part about how fabulous
Cole was? “We love each other. It’s perfect.”
“You may be idealizing,” she warned.
“In this case, it’s justified.”
“Uh-oh.” Her mother lowered her voice to a whisper. “Your dad
just came in. He went for a walk after dinner, and usually he’s gone at least
half an hour. I thought it was safe to call.” In the background, Stacy heard him
ask who it was.
“Tell him, Mom,” she said.
“It’s Stacy.” Ellen’s voice grew fainter as she addressed her
husband. “She’s engaged.”
“This isn’t one of those engagements that lasts for years, is
it?” he grumbled in the background.
“Put him on,” Stacy insisted.
“Maybe you should...” Whatever her mother meant to say, she
didn’t finish. Instead, random noises indicated the phone was changing
hands.