Christmas Babies (6 page)

Madelyn returned with the
required items. “Thank you, dear,” the old woman smiled. “Bert will be here
next week. He’ll hang it for me. Bert is such a nice guy. He can’t wait to see
you again, dear.”

“Oh.” Madelyn pinched her lips
and hugged her neighbor. “Thanks you for showing your apartment, Maria. Don’t
forget to take your Lasix.” She rushed to the door as if she couldn’t wait to
get out and looked at him anxiously. “I hope she didn’t say something annoying
when I went to bring the hammer?”

“She mentioned your friend Bert.”
He couldn’t suppress a twitch of his lips.

“Drat. He’s my sister’s brother-in-law.
Nice guy, but... what can I say?” Her sigh spoke volumes and relaxed him.

“Don’t say anything. Do you want
a few days off next week when Bert visits his aunt? Or do you want to be on
call?” He winked at her, and she burst out laughing.

“I’ll be on call for sure.”

Exactly what he wanted to hear.
He didn’t like competition around Madelyn. Not when he’d finally stepped in her
circle of close friends.

“Let’s go to visit Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.
Their three-bedroom condo is on the eleventh floor. They are expecting us.”

He loved it when she referred to
them as
us
. “After you, Dr. Ramsay.”

And he loved it when she
chuckled.

 Madelyn introduced him to Howard
and Nancy Hughes, a couple in their early sixties, jovial and easygoing. They
had a gorgeous place and enjoyed showing it. Nick accepted a drink and moved to
the splendid bar separating the dining room space from the living room.

“Do you like sailing and
fishing?” Howard asked in his friendly baritone voice.

“Sailing yes. I’ve always wanted
to buy a boat, but never had time.”

“You should come with us. Nancy
and I love cruising the Intracoastal and sailing to the ocean. We’ll take
Madelyn of course.” The man leaned toward him and lowered his voice while
Madelyn chatted with his wife in the kitchen. “I can understand your interest. Nancy
has been trying to match make her with all the bachelors we know. She never
seemed interested. Until today. You lucky man.” Howard punched him on the
shoulder. “We’ll help you.”

Taken aback by the out-of-place
assumption, Nick stiffened. “There’s nothing between Dr. Ramsay and I. We just
work together.”

“If you say so.” Howard tilted
his head with a sarcastic arch to his eyebrows. “Although Nancy noticed the way
our lovely neighbor looks at you. And my wife is an expert at detecting these
things. She was a psychologist. You can’t trick her.”

“Really?” Nick narrowed his eyes
but smiled. “Interesting.” The women returned carrying platters of cheese,
crackers, and various hors d'oeuvres. “Madelyn, Howard wants to invite us for a
boat ride.” How he loved saying that
us
.

“We’ll plan an outing for
December 15,” Howard immediately elaborated. “On the day of the boat show
parade. You’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m not sure...” Madelyn started,
her gaze shifting from Nick to their host. “I may be on call.”

Howard interrupted her. “Can Nick
do something about it? You mentioned he was your boss now.”

Blast the man for reminding them
of their new status. What if Madelyn used the excuse of not mixing work and
fun, especially with a superior? “Our doctors set their own schedules,” he
hastened to specify. “If Madelyn is interested in boating, she can sign up for
a free day.”

She checked her iPhone. “No
problem. I’m off on the 15th. We can go around noon. It’ll be fun.”

No kidding? She’d agreed right
away. Joy filled his lungs.

“We’ll jump off the boat at the Chart
House for a quick lunch,” Nancy explained as she offered them hors d'oeuvres. “Then
we’ll continue to the ocean and come back in the evening for the boat parade.”

“Perfect.” Nick looked at
Madelyn. She nodded her approval.
Swell
.

They exchanged a light banter and
ate the appetizers. “We’ll see you later,” Madelyn stood to leave.

“Thank you so much for showing
your beautiful condo,” Nick added.

As he followed her, Nancy patted
his arm and whispered, “I knew it. You’re
the
one for her.”

Nick swallowed wrong. He wasn’t
the one for anybody.

If Madelyn wanted to marry, she
deserved better than Nicolas Preston. A man with a heavy emotional baggage.

How could he explain to her he
wanted no commitment when he was doing his best to date her, when she’d finally
given him the time of the day outside the hospital?

Chapter Four

“So, you like my building?”
Madelyn entered her apartment and spun toward him. Her eyes twinkled with green
specks.

“I love it.” Mesmerized, he
returned her smile and lowered his gaze. Nicer view if possible. The printed
strapless blouse clung to her breasts and the yellow capris revealed a pair of
perfect long legs.

Warning bells jingled in his
ears.
Careful, man. Or you may love more than the Blue Lagoon
high
rise
.

“I’ll cut the roast and warm the
casserole.”

He frowned as soon as she
sprinted to the kitchen, but followed her. “What can I do to help?”

“I already set the table. Why
don’t you get the salad out of the fridge and open the bottle of Merlot that’s
on the bar.”

“Right away.”

He poured the wine, then carried the
salad and platters to the table.

“This is the first time I invite
anyone to my place other than the family. My mother always said grace before
dinner. Do you mind—”

“Please do.” He blinked. Good
God, he was her first guest? The first man she’d invited to her place? He sure needed
a prayer to keep his hands decently occupied and away from her.

“Lord, bless our food, bless...”
Madelyn recited.

And help us see clear, cause I
sure don’t understand what’s going on in my head. Or in hers.

“Amen,” he repeated and raised
his drink. “To your health.”

Her hand froze half-way. “Oh.”

Had he said anything wrong?

“To you, finding a nice apartment
that suits you,” she immediately added and clanked her glass against his. Maybe
he’d imagined her previous reaction. He swallowed a good gulp and abstained
from comments as she hardly sipped.

“Delicious.” He wolfed down his meat
and nodded when she served him a second helping “Thank you for cooking. I
didn’t realize I’d put you through all this hassle after a whole day at work.”

“On the contrary, cooking was a
nice distraction. A good way to unwind. I should do it more often.”

“I won’t complain.” He chuckled
and worked his way through the green beans and potatoes. “I practically never
eat home cooked meals.”

Surprised, Madelyn stared at him.
“Not even when you go back home?” She’d been so proud he appreciated her
cooking.

“There’s no home to go back to.”
His eyes fixed on his plate and he forgot to eat.

Poor guy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
know you lost your parents.” She frowned, stirring her memory. There had been
no gossip about Nick losing his parents in the five years she’d known him. Must
have been before he joined St. Lucy’s Hospital. Or maybe when he was a teenager
or... “Oh God, did they die while you were a small boy?”

His head jerked up. “No.” His
cold tone surprised her. “They’re not dead. But I stopped existing for them
ages ago.”

“Excuse me?” She lurched back
against her chair. “I don’t understand.”

He shrugged. “It’s a sad story
you don’t want to hear.”

She had the feeling he’d buried a
deep pain. Still, malignant abscesses didn’t disappear on their own. Only a
surgical knife could cut them out and purify the affected area.

“Yes, I want to hear it.” Needles
pricked her heart. Maybe one day she’d have a sad story of her own to share.
Would he understand hers? “Please, tell me,” she urged and reached across the
table to cover his hand.

He glanced at their entwined
fingers and then considered her. “You come from a loving family, Madelyn. Why
destroy your illusions?”

She pulled her hand back and
crossed her arms. “I’m a doctor, too. I’ve heard many sad stories and seen a
lot of miseries. Like our patient today.”

“That poor Casey Willis and her
twins.” He poured more wine and drank to quench his thirst or maybe to douse
the memory of the teenage mother.

“I checked on the babies before
coming home.” She wanted to reassure him and lighten the somber mood that had
settled over him. “They are doing well so far.”

“So far.” He shrugged. “Until
some great parents adopt them.” Derision underlined his bitterness.

She was afraid to guess. “Nick,
tell me about your parents. I told you all about my family.”

He emptied his wine glass and
refilled it. “I don’t know my real parents. Never found them. They may have
been druggies, or criminals, or a pair of desperate teenagers.”

“Like Casey?”

“Yes. Like Casey.” A deep scowl
etched his forehead as he captured her gaze. “I was adopted by a fantastic
couple who badly wanted a child and had all the money in the world to spoil me.
To give them credit, they spoiled me rotten for five years. Then they sent me
to boarding school.” Pain churned in his eyes and clogged her throat.

“They had more kids by then?
Natural kids?”

“No.” He snorted. “They had to
join their jet set parties.
He was a
movie
producer. She was a famous actress. Ever heard of Anne Lee Meyer and Frank
Davidson?”

“Yes, of course.
She was my mother’s favorite actress.” Madelyn’s jaw sagged and she tilted her
head,
eyes widening. “Don’t tell me... Oh my God, Anne Lee Meyer was
your mother?” Such a beautiful talented actress. Such a sweet woman adored by a
whole generation of fans. And he resented her?

“Frank Davidson’s real name was
Frank David Preston.” Nick’s mouth curled down. “As a child, I often wondered
why I had to spend my life in a boarding school, with only two weeks at home
for Christmas.”

“What about summer vacation?”
Madelyn needed time to absorb and sort the information he’d just dumped on her.

“For two years in a row, they
tried taking me to the movie set. Apparently I got bored and didn’t behave
well.”

“What d’you expect from a six or
seven years old?” Empathy filled her heart for the cute boy he must have been
with his dark curly hair and blue eyes.

“After I embarrassed them one too
many times, they dispatched me to a first-class camp. To be honest, I enjoyed
it and stopped missing home.”

“When did you learn you were
adopted?”

“I was seventeen when they
decided to divorce. Frank had several affairs and was drinking a lot. Anne Lee
was fed up, left him, and remarried. When I complained that they abandoned me,
that I had no home, Frank told me the truth. Very kindly. He said I was a young
man now and didn’t need them. He’d pay for my college and graduate studies, or
any business I wanted to start. I shouldn’t worry about money. I was their only
heir with a lot of dough in my name. I was devastated, scared, and lonely. It
took time to adjust.”

“No wonder you worried about
Casey’s twins. I’m so sorry, Nick. But I think you misunderstood your parents’
motives. The lifestyle of a world-famous actress and a movie director is not
appropriate for a little boy, whether he was adopted or biological. A good
boarding school is a far better place for a kid. Wouldn’t you think so?”

“I never saw it this way.” Nick
scowled and then stared into space. “But you may be right. They were too busy
to raise a child and wouldn’t have done it differently if I was their biological
son.” Bitterness faded from his voice and the lines on his forehead relaxed.

“I heard that Anne Lee Meyer was
sick. What happened to her?”

“Alzheimer. Phase four. She won’t
last long.” His sensuous lips stretched in a thin line, and he blinked several
times. Had tears tickled his eyes? He sighed. “She’s in a nursing home in
Naples, two hours away from here. I drive to see her every couple of weeks. I
see her now more than when I was growing up.” He laughed, a sad
self-deprecating laugh.

“And your dad?”

“After several strokes, he’s now in
a wheelchair. He still lives in his lavish apartment in Manhattan. Several
nurse aids come to help him. Mentally he’s quite alert and continues to do some
consulting. I’ve often asked him to move to Florida but he likes the big city
where he has a lot of friends and business partners.”

“How old is he?”

“Eighty-one. I visit several
times a year.”

“You’re a good son, Nick.” Her
own eyes moistened.

“I’m trying to repay what I owe
them. After all, they saved me from the orphanage.” A muscle twitched at the
base of his neck.

Was he still resenting them? She
didn’t dare ask the question.

He played with the bottle of
wine. “Want some? I finished that bottle all by myself.”

“Good. It was for you. I don’t
drink.” 

“I’m such a lousy guest. You invited
me to a scrumptious dinner and introduced me to your neighbors to show me
different apartments. And I ruined your evening with my depressing story.”

“On the contrary.” She chuckled
and pointed at the empty platters. “It makes me very proud we both honored my cooking.
And I appreciate your trust.”

A pang of guilt stabbed her soul.
He’d shared the secret of his birth, and yet she couldn’t get herself to tell
him about her medical problems.

It’s not the same
. By
confiding in her, he’d treated her as a real friend. If she confessed her
sickness, she’d be addressing her boss, the director who’d have to put his
patients’ welfare above personal friendship. And maybe fire her. Or relegate
her to administrative chores.