The Baby Bonanza. Jacqueline Diamond

weeks due to the overflow in the garage. “Practically the entire staff has donated their baby gear. Anya and Jack got first pick, since she’s already delivered, but they only have a singleton. There’s plenty left.”

      “They’re a lovely couple. So are Melissa and Edmond.” Betsy indicated the long-legged blonde woman ensconced on the sofa, flanked by her doting husband and seven-year-old niece, Dawn, who lived with them. This was a rare outing for Melissa, who in her sixth month with triplets looked almost as wide as she was tall. “I’m thrilled that they remarried. They obviously belong together.”

      Was that a hint? Surely the woman didn’t believe her son might reconcile with Zora. Aside from the fact that he had a new wife, the guy was the world’s worst candidate for family man. “I’d bet in most divorces the odds of a happy reconciliation would be on par with winning the lottery.”

      “If that was for my benefit, don’t bother,” Betsy told him.

      “Sorry.” Lucky ducked his head. “I tend to be a mother hen to my friends. Or a father hen, if there is such a thing.”

      “At least you aren’t a rooster like my son,” she replied sharply.

      “No comment.”

      “Wise man.”

      On the far side of the room, Zora circled past the staircase and halted, her eyes widening at the sight of Lucky standing beside Betsy. Lucky nearly spread his hands in a do-you-honestly-think-I’d-tell-her? gesture, but decided against it, since Betsy didn’t miss much. She must be suspicious enough already about the twins’ paternity.

      While he was seeking another topic of conversation, his landlady bounced into the den from the kitchen. “Who’s ready for a game?” Karen called. “We have prizes.” She indicated a side table where baskets displayed bath soaps and lotions, while a large stuffed panda held out a gift card to the Bear and Doll Boutique.

      “What kind of game?” Dawn asked from the couch.

      “I’m afraid the first one might be too hard for a child,” Karen said. “It’s a diaper-the-baby contest.”

      “I can do that,” the little girl proclaimed.

      “Yes, she can,” Melissa confirmed. “Dawn has more experience with diapering than Edmond or me.”

      “I used to help our neighbor,” the child said.

      “Then please join in!” Karen beamed as guests from the living room crowded into the den. “Ah, more players. Great!”

      Among the group was their former roommate Anya, her arms around the daughter she’d delivered a few weeks earlier. “Nobody’s diapering Rachel for a game.”

      “Certainly not,” Karen agreed.

      “However, volunteers are welcome to stop by our apartment any night around two a.m.,” put in Anya’s husband, Dr. Jack Ryder.

      Rachel gurgled. A sigh ran through the onlookers, accompanied by murmurs of “What an angel!” and “How darling!”

      “I’d be happy to hold her for you,” Betsy said. “You can both relax and enjoy the food.”

      “Thank you.” Anya cheerfully shifted her daughter into the arms of the nursing supervisor.

      When Zora hugged herself protectively, Lucky felt a twinge of sympathy. She’d refused to consider adoption, declaring that this might be her only chance to have children, but the sight of little Rachel must underscore the reality of what she faced.

      Children required all your resources and all your strength. How did this woman with slim shoulders and defiant ginger hair expect to cope by herself?

      He reminded himself not to get too involved. Lucky didn’t mind changing a few diapers, but he might not be here long, unless Dr. Rattigan brought good news. Now where was the doctor?

      Waving a newborn-size doll along with a package of clean diapers, Karen detailed the rules of the game. “You have to remove and replace the diaper. I’ll be timing you. Fastest diaper change wins.”

      “That doesn’t sound hard,” Laird scoffed.

      “Did I mention you have to do it one-handed?” Karen replied, to widespread groans. “If you drop the baby on the floor, you’re automatically disqualified.”

      “For round two, contestants have to diaper the doll blindfolded,” Rod added mischievously. A few people laughed, while Dawn’s jaw set with determination. That kid would do it upside down and sideways to win, Lucky thought. With that attitude, she’d go far in life.

      Then he caught the sound he’d been waiting for—the doorbell. His pulse sped up. “I’ll get it.”

      Someone else reached the door first, however, and friends rushed to greet the Rattigans. Despite his impatience, Lucky hung back.

      With her friendly manner and elfin face, Stacy had a kind word for everyone. Her mild-mannered husband said little; Cole’s reticence, Lucky knew, stemmed partly from the urologist’s discomfort in social situations. It was also partly the result of having a brain so brilliant that he was probably carrying on half a dozen internal conversations with himself at any given moment.

      Lucky could barely contain his eagerness to speak with the great man privately and find out if the device lived up to its promise. However, he drew the line at elbowing guests aside.

      Stacy oohed over Anya’s newborn and hugged Betsy, her former mother-in-law. The room quieted as the first Mrs. Andrew Raditch came face-to-face with the woman who had cheated with him before being discarded in turn. Most of the staff had cheered at Zora’s misfortune, believing she was receiving her just deserts. Lucky was ashamed to admit he’d been among them. Now he wished he could spare her this awkwardness.

      “Wow! Look at you.” Stacy patted Zora’s belly. “Have you chosen names yet?”

      “Still searching,” she said with a tentative smile. “For now, Tweedledee and Tweedledum.”

      This light exchange broke the tension. With her new marriage, Stacy had clearly moved on, and with her courtesy toward Zora, she’d brought her old nemesis in from the cold.

      Silently, Lucky thanked her. Cole had chosen a worthy wife.

      The game began, with guests lining up to participate. Seizing his chance, Lucky approached his boss, who spoke without prompting.

      “I know you’re anxious for news, Luke.” Cole used Lucky’s formal name. “Let’s talk.”

      “We’ll have more privacy in here.” Lucky led the way into the now-empty living room.

      * * *

      ZORA HAD NO interest in diapering a baby. She’d be doing more than her share of that soon.

      Stacy’s display of friendliness left her both relieved and oddly shaky. Having been treated as a pariah by much of the hospital staff for several years, Zora still felt vulnerable as well as guilty.

      Also, Stacy’s question about the names reminded Zora of her idea to leave the decision until they were born. She’d figured that if Andrew had a chance to choose the names, it might help bond him with the little ones. Today, however, the prospect of what lay ahead was sinking in.

      For starters, what was she planning to do, call him from the delivery room and break the news of his paternity over the phone while writhing in agony? This kind of information should be presented in person, and she ought to get it over with now. Yet being around Andrew brought out Zora’s weakness for him; the ease with which he’d seduced her when she dropped by with their divorce papers proved that.

      If only Lucky would stop poking at her, she’d be able to think clearly. It might be unfair to focus her anger on her housemate, but this was none of his business. And why had he, one of the party’s hosts, hustled Dr. Rattigan off in such a hurry?

      Hungry as