A Mother's Secrets (Parent Portal 4) - Page 16
With her saying she’d agree to his request to think about his original request. Sort of. And with her possibly checking on some things for him pursuant to surrogacy, yes, but...
Wouldn’t you then expect he’d check back in, to see...?
“I was waiting for you to call,” she told him. “After we both had time to think. I did speak with my attorney regarding The Parent Portal assisting you with your surrogate search, and made some calls, but when I didn’t hear from you again...”
Patients made appointments with medical facilities. That’s how it worked. She had a personal service to offer. He had to avail himself of it. And had the right to change his mind and not do so. It wasn’t up to her to hound him about it.
Had it been a matter of life and death, then certainly, a clinic or doctor might call a patient as a gentle, or not so gentle, reminder, but in her business...
Infertility was a tough thing. It wasn’t her place to push. Clinics had clients who came to them, who seemed to want their services, and then they never heard from them again. It was in the nature of their business.
“I was actually just doing a follow-up, assuming, since I hadn’t heard from you that I could close your file...” The emotion storming through her didn’t quite give truth to those words.
“No! Please. Nothing has changed, not as far as I’m concerned. Should I make another appointment for us to speak?”
No! Her thoughts echoed his word. “Yes, that would be best,” she told him. “I can put you through to reception. Hold on...”
Without giving him a chance to say anything further, she clicked a button on the phone, and another, turned the call over and hung up.
Trying not to notice how much her hand was shaking.
Or to admit that her life was about to take a detour she hadn’t expected.
Chapter Six
The first appointment he could get was Tuesday at one—a full three weeks since the last time he’d been to Christine Elliott’s office. He’d have liked to have changed from the clothes he’d worn to tennis camp that morning, as planned, but had been waylaid by a student who’d wanted to speak with him. Axel Barrymore, a fatherless kid, was getting pressure from his mother to concentrate on basketball because of scholarship opportunities. This discussion was not something from which Jamie could walk away. He’d ended up speaking with both Axel and his mother, told them that Axel was better at tennis than he’d ever been, a natural, but that the boy needed to choose the sport he loved the most. He’d offered to make himself available in the future, anytime either of them needed anything. And hoped he’d helped.
He was thirty seconds from being late to his own appointment.
“I’m coming straight from tennis camp,” he admitted, as he noticed the way the health administrator was looking at his bare legs.
“No, you’re fine,” Christine said, arranging various papers in front of her—a few side by side, a few in stacks.
To do with him? Surrogate possibilities?
He tried to meet her gaze, to assess her state of mind, but she was too busy to look up. And then her phone rang and she answered it.
Figuring he knew the drill, he sat in the chair he’d occupied twice in the past. Knowing that whatever happened, he was taking the next step forward to having his family. The rush that swept through him took him a bit by surprise.
He wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts. Or inbursts, as the case might be. Even in grief he hadn’t been overwrought. He’d been able to rationalize. To cry alone. And then do what had to be done.
Still on the phone, Christine’s conversation was mostly one-sided. She had said little except for an occasional “uh-huh,” “yes” and “I’m listening.”
He noticed his finger tapping on his knee and stilled. Tried not to put too much emphasis on the fact that, depending on what information was hiding in those papers, he could be closer than he’d realized to becoming a father.
And wouldn’t dwell on the disappointment he’d feel if the surrogate were someone other than Christine. Surely Emily would understand that he’d tried...
She wouldn’t understand. That wasn’t her way. When Emily knew something, she stuck to her guns. Even if she was wrong. Like the house. It was on the market—finally. And he was due to take at least a ten-thousand-dollar hit because of it.
He was tapping again. Watching his thumb and finger for a moment, then stilled them again. Picked at a thread on the hem of his shorts.
He heard the phone drop in the cradle.
“Sorry about that,” Christine said, her gaze landing on him with the force of a blow. Those big brown eyes, so filled with...something he couldn’t define.
Which put him on edge.
More on edge.
Source: readsnovelonline.net