Having Ned around seemed to irk Owen, which was also a definite plus. But Bailey didnât feel like hanging with her buddy Saturday night. âIâm counseling in the afternoon and it might run late.â Renée had called to request a three oâclock get-together. Maybe theyâd have coffee afterward, although Bailey had pretty much lost her taste for the brew. âAnother time.â
âNo problem.â
She sensed her friends watching as she wove her way between crowded tables. Even from across the large room, Bailey recognized their voices as the conversation resumed. Although she couldnât make out any words, shehad a pretty good idea that they were talking about her and her newfound reluctance to spill all.
She didnât entirely understand it herself. It wasnât only because of her sometimes confusing feelings about Owen, either.
Instinctively, Baileyâs hand closed over her midsection as she walked next door to the medical office building. Inside, still too small for her to detect their movements, lay her children.
No, Phyllisâs children, and Booneâs. A deal was a deal. But instead of focusing on proper diet and when to start childbirth classes, her brain kept returning to two little individuals. Boys? Girls? What names would Phyllis choose? Surely sheâd let Bailey babysitâprobably insist on it.
What if they moved away? Baileyâs throat tightened at the idea. The kids might grow up as virtual strangers, yet she had no right to insist that they stay here in Safe Harbor forever. What if they came back to her years later, armed with the truth, and demanded to know why sheâd given them up?
She couldnât talk about this with her friends. Thereâd be a smattering of I-warned-youâs, and all sorts of opinions about how and what she should do. But to them, it would be nothing more than idle chitchat. To Bailey, this meant more with every passing day.
Because with each new day, her children were growing. That meant the moment was approaching when sheâd have to hand them over to someone else.
As for Owen, he seemed to have forgotten all that caring uncle stuff. On Thursday, he arrived home late, grabbed a sandwich and got busy checking his email, or whatever he did on his computer. Bailey missed the way theyâd joked together in the hot tub and during the ultrasound. She even tried to pick an argument by removing his laundry from thedryer while it was still damp and leaving it on the couch, but if he noticed, he ignored it.
On Friday, Bailey heard that heâd blown up at Keely for forgetting to ask a patient about current medications. Since prescription information was kept in the computer system, that was largely a formality for regular patients, but it could still be important. When Keely protested that sheâd been interrupted twice, Owen had made a sarcastic rejoinder and the nurse had stalked out after calling him a string of adjectives in which arrogant and egotistical featured prominently.
That night, he hadnât come home by the time Bailey went to bed. She was just as glad. Poking a sleeping tiger might be amusing, but confronting one in full slasher mode would be unwise.
Saturday morning, he ate two of her yogurts and left money on the kitchen table to pay for them. What did he think she was, his housekeeper? Bailey grumbled silently when she found it. Fortunately sheâd planned a foray to the supermarket anyway.
Since Nora had left and she had a slow week ahead, Bailey had expected to enjoy her free time. Instead, she was too restless to stroll through the mall and uneasy about calling any of her friends or her sister. Oddly, she missed Owen. Who else could she talk to about the twins?
She headed for the counseling center early, and spent half an hour chatting with the volunteer director, Eleanor Wycliff, about fundraising ideas. Promptly at three, Renée arrived. Although her hair remained an
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