A Baby for the Doctor. Jacqueline Diamond

JACK COOKED, Anya mused. It gave him a certain domestic appeal—as if a guy with bright green eyes, thick brown hair and a million-watt smile needed or deserved any further advantages.

      As she accompanied Luke—Lucky to his friends—to the cafeteria, Anya felt propelled by her own mental kicks in the butt. Downing two drinks on New Year’s Eve was no excuse for jumping into bed with her handsome neighbor. His clumsy attempts to score a second time—which is what she assumed he was doing, given his reputation—were mildly amusing, but she wasn’t that big a fool.

      She had a more pressing problem—her period being three weeks late. The pill was 99.9 percent effective when used properly, which she did. She ought to take a pregnancy test, but she was almost certain it would prove negative. When it did, Anya preferred to have expert advice on hand because there was definitely something wrong with her.

      She doubted it was stress. She wasn’t that upset about her stupidity in bedding Jack, nor about her roommate pressuring her to move to a cheaper place rather than renew their lease. So was this a hormonal imbalance? An autoimmune disease? At twenty-six, surely she was too young for early menopause.

      She checked her phone. No text from Dr. Cavill-Hunter’s nurse about working her into today’s schedule.

      In the cafeteria, Anya studied the posted menu. “What’s the special? I don’t see it.”

      “They’re out of it,” Lucky told her. “It’s nearly one-thirty. Just grab a sandwich, will you?”

      Anya folded her arms. “What’s the rush?”

      “People have to get back to work.”

      She hated pressure. It usually inspired her to go even slower, but she was hungry. Also, across the busy room, she spotted a halo of short ginger hair that identified her roommate, Zora Raditch, sitting across from patient financial counselor Karen Wiggins. Karen’s hair color this week: strawberry blond with pink highlights.

      The third woman at the table, Melissa Everhart, projected pure gorgeous class with her honey-blond hair in a French twist. Melissa worked with the hospital’s recently opened egg bank as egg donor coordinator.

      They weren’t sharing a table by accident, nor from longstanding friendship. They had serious business to discuss, and it included her.

      By now, Lucky was jogging in place. Anya chose a pastrami pita sandwich with avocados and sprouts, sweet-potato chips and iced tea. She paid the cashier and followed her impatient companion.

      The three women huddled over a sheet of paper. “You could have this room in the front and Anya this one on the side,” Karen was saying as they approached.

      Glancing over her roommate’s shoulder, Anya saw the floor plan of a two-story house. “I thought you were all set for renters, Karen.”

      Zora swung around, braced for action. “We’re getting a second chance, Anya. Come on! We’ll never find a more fun place to live than Karen’s house, and it’s really quiet and backs onto a park.”

      Here we go again. For the past year, Anya had relished both the close companionship and the comparative privacy of living with just one friend. Having grown up in a crowded household where her family’s expectations, assumptions and criticisms weighed on her constantly like a heavy coat in summertime, she had no interest in sharing quarters with a group.

      “That isn’t a park—it’s wetlands. Mosquito central,” Anya responded, setting her tray on a clear spot. “What happened to the two guys who’d signed on?”

      “Ned Norwalk decided he prefers living alone.” Ned was a fellow nurse. “I wish he’d told me sooner.” Karen scowled at Lucky.

      “I had nothing to do with that.” Turning a chair backward, he sat at the other open space. “I like him.”

      “But you hate Laird,” Melissa noted.

      Lucky shrugged. “Karen, I’m sorry, but you know how he is. A few drinks and he’s making passes at random women.” Catching Karen’s eye roll, he added, “Unwelcome passes.”

      “So you chased him off,” Karen grumbled.

      “Once you come to your senses, you’ll thank me,” Lucky replied.

      Quietly eating her sandwich, Anya conceded that she didn’t like Laird either. He might be a psychologist and family counselor, but in her opinion, he could use some counseling of his own.

      “How’d you get rid of him?” Zora asked.

      Lucky addressed his response to the others, ignoring Zora, as usual. “I may have implied that I’d make his life miserable if he moved in. That’s all.”

      Karen smacked the table. Anya had to grab her iced tea to prevent a spill. “This may be a game to you, Lucky, but I can’t make the payments by myself. Now that the renovations are finished, I need a full house. Otherwise, I either have to raise everyone’s rent sky-high or sell.”

      For years, Karen—now in her early forties—had cared for her ailing mom while medical expenses ate up their savings. They’d had to defer all but the most essential maintenance on their five-bedroom home. A few months ago, though, following her mother’s death, the counselor had taken out a loan to upgrade the electrical, plumbing and appliances. Then she’d solicited her friends and coworkers to move in for what Anya had to admit was a very reasonable monthly rent.

      “It’s perfect timing. I understand Anya’s lease is up for renewal.” Lucky didn’t mention Zora. Anya wondered how the two of them expected to share a house. The potential for conflict added to her distaste of the idea of moving in with them.

      “You can have the bedroom on the side,” Zora wheedled. “I’ll take the noisy one in the front.”

      Everyone stared at Anya. The combined pressure was so strong, she half expected her chair to tilt. Fortunately, she was used to resisting pressure. “Zora and I will discuss this in private,” she said.

      “Coward,” Lucky teased.

      “Sharing a kitchen shouldn’t be a big deal because you hardly ever cook,” Zora pointed out. As Anya had explained to her friend, she’d grown up shouldering more than her share of household duties in her large family. Heating a can of soup and eating a premade salad felt like a heavenly indulgence.

      “And I gather the rent will be considerably lower than what you’re paying for your apartment,” Melissa added.

      Anya calmly started on the second half of her sandwich. She had shared her objections with Zora, and the polite refusal she’d voiced several times previously ought to be enough for the others.

      Karen drummed her fingers on the table. “Contrary to what you may believe, a wetland is not a swamp. It’s a vibrant ecosystem. A healthy wetland actually reduces the mosquito population thanks to the thriving birds, frogs and fish.”

      “And other insects that feed on mosquito larvae,” added Lucky, who’d clearly heard this speech before.

      “I just love frogs, fish and insects.” Anya’s irony didn’t extend to birds. She did enjoy those, except maybe pigeons in the vicinity of her car.

      Zora widened her eyes in mute appeal. Fortunately, there was little danger of her jumping ship on Anya. Until recently, Zora, an ultrasound technician, had occupied a pariah-like status around the hospital because she’d stolen a popular nurse’s husband a few years back. Then, a year ago, Zora had needed a place to go after her husband cheated on her, too, and Anya had agreed to move in with her. Zora had burst into tears of gratitude and they’d had each other’s backs ever since.

      “I can give you until Sunday night to decide,” Karen said. “Monday, I’m posting the vacancies on the bulletin board.”

      “Oh, come on, Anya,” Lucky said. “You haven’t given us a good reason. My bedroom’s downstairs. You ladies will have plenty of privacy on the second floor, and I can do guard duty.”

      Anya