“I will,” he said. “Listen, I know I’m not experienced. Art’s so easy, I didn’t think I needed to be….”

“I’m so glad that when something bothered you, you asked. You’re doing great, Luke. Art’s very lucky.”

“Thanks,” he said. But inside he was thinking it was really Art who had changed him, and he wasn’t sure who to thank for that. “I’m lucky, I think. Good thing Art didn’t need some expert, that’s all.”

“Oh, I think maybe you sell yourself short. Come join us when the baby’s a little older.”

“We will.”

A good week had passed since Mel Sheridan had stormed away from her dinner, seriously miffed at her husband. That night she was angry and didn’t eat, didn’t curl up against him to sleep. But after that one night, she couched her pique in distant politeness that was completely alien to her personality. She was angry. And stubborn? She could not let go of it! In her mind there was no excuse for his lack of cooperation. A week later she was still holding back in a punishing way and she knew it, but she thought she was doing it in a way that didn’t really cross the line into the category of horrible bitch.

What she’d been doing was avoiding the whole subject of the next baby, of the surrogacy. She went to the bar to see Jack, but far less often. When she did jump on the familiar bar stool to have quality time with him, their conversation was superficial. She fed the kids and got them in bed at night and fixed herself something easy—can of soup, fried-egg sandwich—leaving Jack to have dinner at the bar alone. She didn’t snuggle against him and they hadn’t made love. The absence of their usually rich, satisfying sex life for no reason other than her pissy mood was hard on both of them. But she’d be the last to admit it.

She knew exactly what she was doing and hated herself for it, but she did it anyway. She wasn’t sure what would happen first—either she’d get over it or Jack would cave and go along with her plan.

“You haven’t made up with Jack yet, have you?” Cameron Michaels said to her when they happened to meet in the clinic’s kitchen for a coffee break.

“How can you tell?” she asked.

He laughed. “Right. Like it’s not obvious you’re pissed.”

She poured them each a coffee. “Has Jack talked to you about this?”

He accepted the cup. “Mel, I’m not getting into this with Jack under any circumstances. Wasn’t I clear about that? You’re my partner, he’s my friend, this is going to stay between the two of you. Period.”

“But what’s your opinion?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not going there, either. Whatever you and Jack decide is good for your family, I’m happy for you.”

“But would you do it if that’s what Abby wanted?”

He just stared at her. “We really need to get your hearing checked. I’m not taking sides on this issue. It’s too personal. Personal issues get a very big emotional investment along with an unbelievable emotional memory.”

“You’re a wimp,” she accused.

“Guilty.”

“What if Jack asks you?” she wondered.

“I’ll say the same thing to him.”

“It’s pretty hard to get a consensus when no one will give me an opinion….”

He frowned. “A consensus on what?”

“Whether I’m crazy or not,” she said with a shrug.

“Okay, I have an opinion about that,” he said. “You’re not crazy. How’s that?”

“Would you please tell Jack that?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Besides, Jack knows you’re not crazy.”

“I’m not so sure. He thinks this is about me not grieving the loss of my uterus more than wanting another child.”

“Really?” Cameron asked. “That was quite a while ago, wasn’t it? Couple of years?”

“Exactly!” she said almost triumphantly. “Plenty of time!”

“I’m a little lost. How could it be that?”

“It can’t! But he thinks too many things happened, taking my attention off my need to mourn, to adjust. Like the surgery, the forest fire, Doc’s death, Rick’s tour in Iraq and all the adjustments he and Jack were making because he was injured…you know. But I’m sure that’s not—” She cocked her head and listened. “I think that’s my prenatal.” She put down her coffee cup. “Thanks for saying I’m not crazy.”

He just gave a lame smile and a nod. But when she left the kitchen he said to himself, “Whoa. Interesting…”

Mel met her new patient in the foyer. She didn’t know anything about her except her name, Marley Thurston, her age, eighteen, and that this would be her first prenatal. But there was a young man with her, solicitously pressing his hand on the small of her back.

“You must be Marley Thurston,” Mel said, putting out her hand. “Mel Sheridan. How are you?”

“Fine,” she said, taking the hand. “Nice to meet you. This is my boyfriend, Jake Conroy.”

“How do you do. Can I get you to fill out a little paperwork for me before the exam?”

“Sure, but before I do that, can we talk about it? About the pregnancy? About stuff?”

“Of course. Follow me. The office is free—let’s sit down in there.” And she led the way. Once Mel was behind the desk and the kids were seated facing her, she started the discussion. “I sense you have some concerns? Some special needs?”

They looked at each other, then the young man actually looked down, leaving Marley to answer. “The pregnancy isn’t planned,” she said. “My girlfriend Liz Anderson she said if you can’t help us, no one can.” She shrugged. “That’s why we came all the way from Eureka to see you.”

Liz and Mel went way back; Liz and Rick were now engaged, soon to be married. Mel folded her hands on the desk. “That depends on what kind of help you need, of course. If I can’t help, maybe I can direct you to the right place.”

“The thing is…” Her voice caught and tears gathered in her eyes. She couldn’t seem to go on.

“It wasn’t…It was an accident,” the young man said. “My fault. Totally my fault.”

“Easy does it,” Mel said. “These things do happen. Are you certain you’re pregnant? We haven’t done the exam yet.”

She nodded. “Three months. Almost three months, I think. Mrs. Sheridan, we decided we can’t be parents right now. We just finished our first year of college and you have no idea how hard it was. Not school—we’re both good in school. But working and going to school and trying to keep up with bills. We both had to borrow tuition money. We’re going to have to borrow lots more before…” She looked to her boyfriend for help.

“We’ve been together since high school and we want to get married, we really do, and we tried to think of a way…” Jake cleared his throat. “Our families aren’t…Thing is, no one on either side ever got to college and they don’t have any money to help. Marley said that if I really wanted her to, she’d quit school and we could live with her folks, in her bedroom, but—”

“But it wouldn’t be good for the baby, either. Not good for us, not good for the baby, not good for our families. God,” she said, pounding a fist on her knee. “We really screwed up. Really.”

Mel took a deep breath. She didn’t like where this was going. But before explaining that she didn’t do terminations, she asked, “How is it you think I can help?”

“Well,” Marley said, scooting forward. “We were thinking of an adoption. But we don’t want the usual kind of adoption. We were wondering if it would be possible to have the kind of adoption where we know our baby is okay. I mean, it probably wouldn’t be fair to be real involved in its life, we get that. But if we could know the parents first, maybe even pick the parents…”

“And get pictures,” Jake said. “And then later, if he wants to know us, wants to know his brothers and sisters, if there are brothers and sisters…well, we’d be open to that because we don’t want to give him up. I mean, we’d do about anything…”

“But we decided we have to think about him, too. We grew up pretty poor, both of us, and believe me…If he can just grow up in a good family, like maybe one where he’s gonna have his own room, get to do things like sports and lessons, get a little help with college. You know, parents who will love him, protect him. That’s the kind of thing we want for our kids.” She reached over to Jake and grabbed his hand. “If we can’t do an adoption that way, then we already decided, we’re not going to do it. We can’t live never knowing if he’s okay. We can’t just give him to some adoption agency and walk away and never even know.”

“Is there any way?” Jake asked. “Any way at all?”

Mel smiled patiently, calmly, but inside, her heart soared! “Yes, Marley, Jake. Yes, it’s usually called an open adoption. A lawyer handles the details, you meet prospective parents, get to know them a little and—”

They exchanged worried looks. “Lawyer?” Jake said. “We don’t have any money. I mean, I can pay for the doctor’s appointment, but—”

Mel was shaking her head. “The expenses are usually covered by the adoptive parents. But it’s important to realize that you have to make some commitments, also. You would have to promise to guard your health and the health of the baby—no alcohol, tobacco or drugs during your pregnancy, regular prenatal checkups, and once you’ve decided on an adoptive family and have a contract, you can’t just change your minds while they absorb the costs, which are considerable. You have to be sure about this—and if you think you are, I can help.”

“Oh, I want the baby to be healthy and I don’t drink or smoke or anything,” Marley said earnestly. “I just want him to be in a good family, and a safe home. How can I be sure of that?”

“Besides meeting the prospective parents, your lawyer would do a background check for you, make sure there are no problems like health issues, convictions, allegations of abuse, bankruptcy, all sorts of things.”

“Would anybody out there like that want our baby?” Marley asked.

“Sweetheart, most adoptive parents wait a long time for a baby. Not very many young people are able to make hard choices like this.”

“Even though we want to know about the baby after? Would anyone be willing to do it like that?”

“You sit down with your lawyer and plan to talk to only potential parents who can agree to those terms.” She smiled. “They’re not unreasonable or unusual terms. Of course, you do understand, an open adoption isn’t the same as joint custody. You would have to sign off on parenthood, let the new parents raise the child in their way, as their own. It could mean never visiting your child, but yet always being up-to-date on how he’s doing.”

Jake scooted forward a little. “Like, would it be totally out of the question to watch him play ball if he was playing ball on a team? Or—”

“Or see a dance recital, if she was in a dance recital?”

“As long as you understand about things like custodial interference—the parents might not be freaked out by your presence at a single ball game or recital, but the child, depending on his age and the amount of knowledge he has about his biological parents, might be confused or upset by running into you everywhere he goes. I know you can create a scenario in your mind—this strange couple shows up at every Little League game, taking pictures of the same ten-year-old, cheering him on…He either realizes there’s something off about that or you get arrested as potential kidnappers. Right? You have lots of time to think about issues like that and decide if you’re still comfortable.”

“We talked about that a lot,” Marley said. “We don’t want him upset or anything. We want him happy. Then, when he’s, like, eighteen or something, if he wants to know us, if his parents don’t mind too much, maybe we could…you know…be involved in his life a little. If that’s not too crazy?”

God, Mel was thinking—what adoptive parent could argue with kids as conscientious and caring as that? She would sign on for that deal. In fact, right now in her head, she already had signed on.

“I don’t think that sounds crazy at all. But listen, before you get ahead of yourselves, let’s do a history and physical, the exam, start a patient file. Oh, and if you’re interested, my sister-in-law is an attorney. You could consult with her for free, then decide if you’d like her to handle the adoption for you. If it all works out, I could help you locate potential adoptive parents who are flexible about your terms.”

Marley let out her breath. Then she leaned against Jake in relief and perhaps exhaustion. He held her close and said, “It’s going to be all right, baby. Everything is going to be all right.”

Mel walked over to the bar at that magic hour when there was hardly ever anyone there. She smiled as she walked in and hopped up on a stool, leaning toward Jack.

“Hey, baby,” he said, leaning toward her for a kiss.

“I’d like to declare a truce,” she said. “I’m sorry if you are.”

He lifted a brow. “Does that mean if I’m not sorry, you’re not sorry?”

She laughed. “All right, I’m sorry I wasn’t very understanding of your feelings in the whole surrogacy argument. If you can’t get into the idea, you can’t. That’s all there is to it. I’ve accepted that.”