would be strong and healthy, with or without those dreadful glasses of milk. Most important, this baby was hers and Johnny’s and no one, not even Dr. Jordan Daniels, would ever be able to take it away from her.
D R. R EESE SHIFTED uncomfortably in his chair. He seemed to be having unusual difficulty meeting her steady gaze as Lauren once again relived yesterday’s luncheon meeting. As she tried to make light of her fears, she was silently pleading for him to set her mind at rest once and for all. All he had to do was open his mouth and tell her that it was impossible for Dr. Daniels to have fathered her child or to have seen her records. Instead, the elderly man remained silent as he studied his pen with the intensity of a surgeon about to operate.
Her story finished, Lauren waited anxiously, her blood running colder with each second of silence that passed. At last Dr. Reese cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to lift from his pen and focus on his patient.
“Actually, Lauren, there was a little mix-up in the lab on the day you were inseminated. It seems that the label had fallen off the sealed vial that contained the sperm of your scheduled donor. The nurse who was to get the intended vial and bring it to me found the label lying loose on the shelf, and naturally thinking that it belonged to the first unmarked vial she found, she didn’t take the time to search each one to see if there were any other unlabeled vials.”
As Dr. Reese leaned back, his chair groaned beneath him. He was obviously trying to choose his words carefully because of the delicacy and possible volatility of the subject. “Since labels rarely fall off and even more rarely are there vials in storage that have no labels at all, it never occurred to the nurse that the two might not go together.”
“Does that mean there were at least
two
unmarked vials?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, there was one other—”
“Then there is a good chance that he might not be the father after all?” Even though it was stated as a question, it was evident by the tone of her voice that she was greatly encouraged.
“Yes, but—”
“Then I have nothing to worry about. Dr. Daniels jumped to the wrong conclusion and he doesn’t have a chance of making any claim on my child.” Lauren breathed a relieved sigh and leaned against the back of her chair, relaxing for the first time since she had entered this office.
“I wish it were that simple,” Dr. Reese continued. “From the nurse’s description of the location, Jordan is certain that the sample belonged to him.”
“But what about the other vial? Couldn’t it be checked or something? Surely there’s some way to identify its donor.”
“There is, but unfortunately it was destroyed several months ago when someone noticed during a routine expiration check that there was no label on it.”
“Then there is still a chance that Dr. Daniels was wrong about the location. Or the nurse could have forgotten. It would be easy enough to make a mistake about something that happened six months ago.”
“It’s possible,” Dr. Reese admitted, but the expression in his sympathetic eyes told her that he didn’t believe it.
“But not probable,” Lauren supplied, her voice painfully flat.
Dr. Reese didn’t answer, but his helpless shrug told her more than words. It was obvious that he had no doubts that Jordan Daniels was the father of her child.
“What kind of a doctor is he? If he takes care of his patients as carelessly as his experiments, I’ll bet the premiums for his malpractice insurance are astronomical.” Again Lauren was sitting on the edge of her chair, venting her anger toward the person she felt was truly responsible for this situation … Dr. Daniels.
“Let me tell you a little bit about Jordan. You’ve gotten the wrong impression of him.” Dr. Reese was quick to defend his colleague. “From what I’ve heard, you
D R. R EESE SHIFTED uncomfortably in his chair. He seemed to be having unusual difficulty meeting her steady gaze as Lauren once again relived yesterday’s luncheon meeting. As she tried to make light of her fears, she was silently pleading for him to set her mind at rest once and for all. All he had to do was open his mouth and tell her that it was impossible for Dr. Daniels to have fathered her child or to have seen her records. Instead, the elderly man remained silent as he studied his pen with the intensity of a surgeon about to operate.
Her story finished, Lauren waited anxiously, her blood running colder with each second of silence that passed. At last Dr. Reese cleared his throat, forcing his gaze to lift from his pen and focus on his patient.
“Actually, Lauren, there was a little mix-up in the lab on the day you were inseminated. It seems that the label had fallen off the sealed vial that contained the sperm of your scheduled donor. The nurse who was to get the intended vial and bring it to me found the label lying loose on the shelf, and naturally thinking that it belonged to the first unmarked vial she found, she didn’t take the time to search each one to see if there were any other unlabeled vials.”
As Dr. Reese leaned back, his chair groaned beneath him. He was obviously trying to choose his words carefully because of the delicacy and possible volatility of the subject. “Since labels rarely fall off and even more rarely are there vials in storage that have no labels at all, it never occurred to the nurse that the two might not go together.”
“Does that mean there were at least
two
unmarked vials?” she asked hopefully.
“Yes, there was one other—”
“Then there is a good chance that he might not be the father after all?” Even though it was stated as a question, it was evident by the tone of her voice that she was greatly encouraged.
“Yes, but—”
“Then I have nothing to worry about. Dr. Daniels jumped to the wrong conclusion and he doesn’t have a chance of making any claim on my child.” Lauren breathed a relieved sigh and leaned against the back of her chair, relaxing for the first time since she had entered this office.
“I wish it were that simple,” Dr. Reese continued. “From the nurse’s description of the location, Jordan is certain that the sample belonged to him.”
“But what about the other vial? Couldn’t it be checked or something? Surely there’s some way to identify its donor.”
“There is, but unfortunately it was destroyed several months ago when someone noticed during a routine expiration check that there was no label on it.”
“Then there is still a chance that Dr. Daniels was wrong about the location. Or the nurse could have forgotten. It would be easy enough to make a mistake about something that happened six months ago.”
“It’s possible,” Dr. Reese admitted, but the expression in his sympathetic eyes told her that he didn’t believe it.
“But not probable,” Lauren supplied, her voice painfully flat.
Dr. Reese didn’t answer, but his helpless shrug told her more than words. It was obvious that he had no doubts that Jordan Daniels was the father of her child.
“What kind of a doctor is he? If he takes care of his patients as carelessly as his experiments, I’ll bet the premiums for his malpractice insurance are astronomical.” Again Lauren was sitting on the edge of her chair, venting her anger toward the person she felt was truly responsible for this situation … Dr. Daniels.
“Let me tell you a little bit about Jordan. You’ve gotten the wrong impression of him.” Dr. Reese was quick to defend his colleague. “From what I’ve heard, you
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