A Baby for the Doctor. Jacqueline Diamond

of pain, she remembered the news she’d received this evening. I will have a child for about five minutes—until her forever mom claims her.

      A dozen years from now, how would her child feel about being adopted? Anya supposed different kids had different responses. Tiffany had been torn up about Rod’s supposed abandonment, but that was because they’d formed a bond. A birth mother who relinquished her baby wasn’t rejecting her. Exactly the opposite. You had to do what was best for the child.

      “I have another idea! Amber and I could go to the movies with Anya and Jack. Like a double date.” Tiffany clearly assumed they were a couple, despite their denials. “And he could cook dinner for us. Do you still cook, Uncle Jack?”

      “Rumor has it,” he replied cheerfully.

      More soberly, Rod said, “None of this is guaranteed. But you should make your case, Tiff. The fact that you ran away might show them they can’t keep you under lock and key. Let’s hope Amber hasn’t mentioned that you planned to contact me.”

      “I swore her to secrecy.” The girl toyed with the end of her braid. “She knows Vince would go ballistic.”

      “When you talk to them, don’t forget to lay on the guilt,” Anya reminded her. “Emphasize how unfair they’re being to your grandmother.”

      “Their poor aging grandmother,” Helen said lightly. “Who can’t do a proper spring cleaning anymore.”

      “Not that anyone could tell.” Anya wasn’t about to mention the spiderwebs on the front windows. Even if the detail reinforced Tiffany’s case, it would only embarrass her grandmother.

      The girl bounced with excitement. “I’ll act totally pathetic. This is great! Thank you, Anya. I can’t wait till you’re my aunt.”

      Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Jack and I aren’t dating, sweetie. We just work together.”

      Rod studied her. Anya hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about her so drastically that he might play matchmaker. She hadn’t meant to be that helpful.

      “Now that we have a plan, I’ll go call your mother,” Helen said.

      Taking that as her cue, Anya stood. “It’s been great meeting you and Tiffany.”

      “Do you have to leave already?” the girl asked. “I like you.”

      “I like you, too.” And truthfully, Anya hoped she’d see Rod’s daughter again. “But I have to hit the hay. Surgical nurses start work at 7:00 a.m. That means rolling out of bed by 5:30 a.m.”

      “Does Uncle Jack roll out of bed by 5:30 a.m., too?” his niece asked mischievously.

      Anya blushed. “I wouldn’t know.”

      “You’re grown-ups. That means you can sleep together, right?” Tiffany teased.

      “Where’d you pick up that idea?” Rod demanded. “I thought your parents monitored your media access.”

      “Everybody knows about that stuff.” Tiffany patted his arm. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I don’t have a boyfriend yet.”

      “That’s one thing I approve of,” he said with mock gruffness.

      Anya said her goodbyes. “Back in a sec,” Jack told the others, then followed her outside.

      “We have something to discuss,” she began as they walked toward her car.

      “Maybe tomorrow.”

      She’d prefer to get this over with. “It’s important.”

      He didn’t seem to hear her, though. “What was my aunt thinking, shutting Rod out of the girls’ lives? Rod’s their father in every sense that counts. You can’t sever a bond like that, no matter how many lawyers you hire.”

      In this state, Jack wouldn’t take her news well, Anya conceded. “Tomorrow night, then. Let’s find a moment to talk, okay?”

      “I remember flying home from college right after Tiffany was born,” he continued, oblivious. “Holding her in my arms... She was a little cutie with her red hair. I got this wild rush, like it was my job to protect her from the world. Isn’t that nuts? I was twenty years old.”

      “Kind of a strong reaction.” In the glow of a streetlamp, Anya clicked open her car lock. “You’re only their uncle. Or cousin. Or whatever.”

      “Yes, whatever,” he said dourly. “But it doesn’t matter that we aren’t genetically related. We’re family. And families mean more to me than to most people.”

      She stopped. “Why?”

      “Because for most of my childhood, I missed out on having one.” Jack dug his hands into his pockets.

      He hardly struck Anya as the product of a deprived upbringing. “You grew up in foster homes?”

      “Not exactly.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “My dad was a firefighter who died in a fire when I was three.” Jack stared down the dark street. “My mother wasn’t the domestic type, and after Dad died, she stopped trying to be. She adopted one cause after another and travels all over the world, saving the subjugated women of India and Africa. And South America. And Central America. And probably the South Pole.”

      “Surely she took you along.” Anya had no idea how anyone could raise a child under those circumstances, but it might be exciting and educational.

      “She dragged me here and there until I reached kindergarten. Then she dumped me on my grandparents.” Bitterness underscored his words.

      At five years old, his mother had left him? That was harsh. With a shiver, Anya tried to relate his mother’s actions to her own situation. To her, it seemed an entirely different matter. But Jack might not see it that way.

      “Grandparents are family, too,” she said.

      “Mine weren’t even prepared to have Rod, a surprise midlife baby. He’s thirteen years younger than my mom, and they certainly weren’t eager to add a grandchild to the mix.” Jack seemed lost in his painful past. “Physically, they took care of me, but I grew up feeling as if I wasn’t wanted there. It was lonely.”

      The opposite of me. Anya had often longed for less family. “Wasn’t your uncle like a brother?”

      “A much older brother. He was a teenager when I was in grade school,” Jack said. “It was later that we got close.”

      She shook her head. “I had no idea. Are your grandparents still around?”

      “They died a few months apart while I was in high school.” A hurt look shadowed his face. “It felt like the end of the world to me. They may not have been perfect, but at least I had a home.”

      “What about your mom?” Surely the woman had stepped up to the plate at such a critical point.

      “After the funeral, she offered to fly me to Central America, where she was living in a jungle hut or something like that,” Jack said tightly. “She was vague about her circumstances, which I took to mean she’d rather I stayed here.”

      “What did you do?” Anya wished she could soothe his sadness. She’d always pictured Jack as a secure person from a solid, supportive background.

      “I moved in with Rod. He was in medical school by then and too busy to spend much time with me, but we got along. I received my father’s survivor benefits from Social Security, so that covered my share of expenses, and I did my best to be useful.”

      “That’s why you learned to cook?”

      “Along with other household skills.” He shrugged. “That’s how my childhood went. Better than for a lot of kids, but not exactly storybook.” Jack glanced toward the house. “That’s why it tears me apart to see Tiffany