“Calm down. Breathe.”
Even though Sarah paused a beat, Beth couldn’t catch her breath. “I’m freaking out!”
“Just slow down and tell me what’s wrong.”
“The phone number for the adoption agency is disconnected.”
“Do you remember the name of the family that adopted her?”
“Taylor.”
“Oh. That’s a pretty common name. Wasn’t he a doctor or something?”
“Yes. I’ll go look them up.” She carried the phone with her as she went back to the office computer and did a search. “Dr. and Mrs. Taylor in Bloomington” didn’t provide results. “Nothing. Oh my gosh. What if they changed their minds? Decided not to tell her about me. Moved away so I could never find them.”
“People move. That doesn’t mean anything.” Silence lingered over the line. “I think the agency was associated with a church. Remember?”
“You’re right. But which one?” All she remembered was it wasn’t associated with her father’s ministry. “There was a church across the street.” A picture of a white clapboard building with a bell tower formed in her mind. “Holy Cross maybe.”
“So call them. They might know where the records are.”
Realizing how Sarah had once again talked her down, regret pushed its way inside her. “Thanks, Sarah.” Tears came to Beth’s eyes. Before this weekend, she and Sarah hadn’t talked in ages. They’d stayed in touch mostly through e-mail, but little else. It wasn’t because of geography, either. Sarah only lived on the other side of town. The thought made the tears well up even faster. Why had she given up on their friendship so easily? Sarah had always been there for her. She still was. “I’ll let you know how it goes. I promise.”
Another quick Internet search and Beth had the number for a church. A woman whose voice cracked answered, “Hello?”
Beth’s throat went dry. She struggled to find the words. “Um. I’m wondering if you know what happened to the records for the Loving Solutions Adoption Agency across the street?”
“Oh, dear. There was a fire. What’s left of them are here in the church basement. Why do you ask?”
Beth clutched the phone tightly. “Um, I have some information that I think an adoptive family should know. Some medical information about their child.” Her cheeks grew warm, just as they had every time she’d discussed her unplanned pregnancy all of those years ago.
“You’re welcome to come search through what we have. They’re in total disarray, I’m afraid. It could take you hours to find what you’re looking for. Or you might not ever find it.”
“So no one is still handling the cases? If I wanted to leave information and have it passed on...”
“No. The agency closed. Like I said, you’d have to search through the files yourself.”
Frustration built inside Beth as she dug her fingernails into her free hand. She’d just been there that weekend. Now she needed to drive back? And what would she tell Drew she was doing? She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. Not after his expression of disgust toward Missy’s unplanned pregnancy.
The woman’s voice quavered over the line. “Dear? Is that something you’d like to do? If so, you’ll have to do it between the hours of eight and three. Those are my usual hours.”
“Okay.” She thought about her calendar for the upcoming week. Every day was always crazy busy. So much so that she couldn’t afford to call in sick or take vacation days. And tomorrow was that big meeting with her boss to discuss her goals. “I’ll have to get back to you.”
As she disconnected the line, Beth thought about giving up, but this was too important. Her child’s life was at stake. Her daughter needed to know she might have Huntington’s. Maybe science would find a cure or a way to prevent the disease from developing. She’d need to know the risk so she could get early treatment.
Like an unfaithful spouse, Beth closed the browser and cleared the computer’s history. She not only had to drive to Bloomington ASAP, but she had to hide her tracks from Drew. Could she tell him she had a training seminar she had to go to? Since he worked at Healthy Habits, it was risky. But if she didn’t explain why she would be out of the building, he’d definitely notice. Besides, he’d need to take Emma to and from daycare, which she usually did.
Should Beth finally tell him the whole sordid story? Panic flooded her veins. Her palms grew moist.
No, not yet. Once they got engaged, at the very latest. Then she’d definitely come clean.
She blew on her hands to dry the perspiration. Lying to Drew unsettled her, but she had no choice.
That night she had nightmares of boxes stacked higher than her head threatening to topple over like on one of those hoarding shows. She burst awake. After staring at the blackness, she realized she couldn’t do this alone.
The digital alarm clock glowed 2:05 a.m. Next to her Drew breathed heavily with sleep. Carefully she lifted the covers and slid out of bed.
After tiptoeing to the office, she wrote Sarah an e-mail. “The records are piled in the church basement. Could take days to find what I need. Would you be willing to help?”
# # #
Monday morning Bethany walked into her boss’ office and took a seat across from him. Luke was thin, marathon-runner thin, with cropped hair that she suspected he dyed to hide the gray. Image was everything at Healthy Habits Vitamins and Herbs.
Luke sat in the chair behind his desk. “Looks like you took my advice and tried the Healthy Habits appetite suppressants.”
She crossed her arms, uncomfortable talking about her body. What she didn’t tell him was that she was so hungry, she could gnaw on his leg right now. Not that he had much meat on his bones.
Beth smiled politely. “I’ve been watching what I eat.”
“It’s not fair, I know, but society views overweight people as lazy and unmotivated. Even more so at Healthy Habits. I’d deny this if you ever brought it up, but I truly think your career here has suffered because of your weight. Now that you’ve proven that you can tackle that, we should work on getting the brothers’ attention. I plan on moving up in this company and I can see you taking my place.”
Unlike her previous supervisor, Luke wasn’t related to the family that had turned a small shop into a national success story. Its founder had four sons who now headed up the mail-order company. Rumor had it that if you were a woman, you’d never make it past middle management, the place where she’d been for the past decade.
Beth allowed hope to bubble within. “I’d like that.”
Finally someone cared enough to be straight with her. She’d worked long hours and taken the projects that no one else wanted, but it never resulted in a promotion. It was as if she didn’t know the secret handshake or she’d offended someone somehow. Earlier this year, when Luke had hinted her weight might be the problem, she’d already been worried about having a double chin on her wedding day. She’d decided to kill two birds with one stone.
“We need some new ideas. The brothers want to offer something different than the competition. They want Healthy Habits to be unique.” As he talked, Beth forced herself not to stare at the small mole beneath his right eye. For some reason it was hard not to look, but today she wouldn’t allow the distraction. “I figure since you hear all of the customer complaints, you’d have some suggestions on how to improve things around here.”
“Uh…of course.” Beth tried to hide her surprise. No one had ever asked what she learned from the calls. All they cared about was that she managed to placate dissatisfied customers so they didn’t rant about the company on Twitter or Facebook or even to their friends over coffee. Somehow she managed to turn most negative situations around so that the customers remained content. “I have lots of ideas. We could do rewards for repeat customers or include samples of other products with each order.”
Luke tapped his pen on his desk. “All valid points. But none of that is going to cause an explosion in sales. We need something dramatically new.”
&
nbsp; She tucked a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear, a habit she’d had since she’d been a little girl. She thought of the elderly man she spoke with on Friday, the one with a German shepherd named Bruno. “Some of our capsules are hard to swallow. We get a lot of complaints about how big they are.”
“Uh-huh.” The pen kept tapping.
“My mother can’t swallow pills, no matter what size. I think there are plenty of people like that.”
Luke put down his pen, suddenly interested in raking in the miniature sandbox on his desk.
Beth ignored his fidgeting. He always fidgeted. “We need another delivery method. Like a piece of gum or candy.”
“Gum would still need to be swallowed and the candy has already been done. Ever heard of Viactiv? Brilliant. Calcium wrapped in chocolate. We need something like that, Beth.”
“What about a spray?”
“What?”
“A good-tasting supplement that you spray in your mouth.”
“Hmmm. Interesting.” Luke put the miniature rake down and looked at her. “Do some research on that. Find out what percentage of Americans can’t swallow pills. Check patents and see if anyone else is doing vitamin sprays. Get back to me ASAP.”
Grinning, Beth sprang from her chair. Maybe this was it. She’d finally climb up the career ladder at Healthy Habits. If she didn’t starve to death first.
# # #
A meeting reminder popped into Beth’s inbox: Rordan Photography appt. 5:30 p.m.
“Crap.”
She’d forgotten all about it. Rordan was one of the most sought-after photographers in town and she’d scheduled this weeks ago. These were supposed to be her engagement photos. The ones she’d dropped all of those pounds for. The ones that would have naturally come after her tie tack engagement to Drew.
Grumbling, Beth dialed the studio. “I’m afraid I can’t make my appointment tonight.”
An adolescent girl’s voice answered. “Since you didn’t give us forty-eight hours’ notice, you’ll still need to pay us $200 for the time slot.”
“Can’t you schedule someone else? I mean, these were supposed to be my engagement pictures, but...I’m not engaged yet.”
“I’m sorry.” She sounded contrite. “This is my uncle’s studio and there’s nothing I can do.”
Beth couldn’t stand the idea of throwing away $200. Growing up, she envied the kids who got a new box of Crayolas every school year. As a preacher’s kid, she had to use the same worn-down nubs of wax year after year. Sometimes she’d have to borrow her friend’s Elmer’s because her glue had hardened. Appreciating the value of a dollar was as automatic as breathing. For $200 she could replace the drafty window in Emma’s room or buy her a flower girl dress. No, she couldn’t give away $200 for nothing. “I’ll figure something out.”
She hung up the phone. Perhaps if she went in person, she could negotiate a credit toward their future sitting fees. She shut down her computer, turned out her office light and headed toward the on-site daycare center.
As soon as she saw Emma’s baby blue eyes, she had the answer. She’d get the little girl’s picture taken. It would be great to have professional photos of Drew’s niece. Undoubtedly, Missy had never invested in any, frittering away any extra cash on cigarettes and beer for her boyfriends. She’d already missed her chance to capture the adorable baby-on-a-pink-blanket shots. Beth wasn’t even sure if Missy had snapped any candids at home.
That woman didn’t appreciate how fleeting childhood was.
The jagged edge of her car keys dug into Beth’s palm. Registering the pain, she dropped them into her purse, then reached out to embrace Emma. “Guess what? We’re going to get your picture taken.”
“Why?”
Not wanting to block the door for other people picking up their kids, Beth waved to Amy, the lean brunette who ran the daycare center, and steered Emma toward the exit. “This way Uncle Drew and I can keep a picture of you on our desks at work. And we’ll give one to grandma and grandpa so they can look at it when they miss you.”
“What about mommy? If you give her one, will she miss me?”
A tug at her heart. Hoping to offer some comfort, Beth stroked Emma’s fine hair. “Your mommy misses you all the time, I’m sure.” They took a few steps without speaking. “Do you want to give your mommy a picture?”
“Yeah.”
Beth had an idea. Reaching in her purse, she pulled out a compact mirror and handed it to Emma. “You can practice your smile on the way.”
Once at the studio, Emma seemed to like all of the props the photographer had sitting around. She wanted to play with the artificial Christmas tree in the back corner, but the photographer wasn’t happy. Obviously, as a photographer that specialized in weddings, he preferred subjects that stayed in place and didn’t wander off exploring. He handed Emma a plastic flower and told her to sit on the X taped on the floor.
Emma smelled the flower and frowned. “This stinks.”
The photographer rolled his eyes and pushed his tortoiseshell glasses up his nose. “Just hold it and pretend it smells like a rose.”
“But it’s a daisy.”
Beth smirked. Emma was so sharp.
The rail-thin man snapped shots from different angles before pausing to look at Beth. “Do you want any mother-daughter shots?”
It was like a kick in the gut. She’d never thought about how their blonde hair and blue eyes made them look alike. And who else would bring a two-year-old to a photo shoot but a family member? Her voice barely made a sound. “No.”
Somewhere there was a little girl that was hers. But she’d given her away, assuming there’d be plenty of time for babies later. Now she wondered if she’d missed her only chance.
Would she ever be a real mother? Would she ever know the pleasure of seeing her own image reflected in the next generation’s face? Her newborn had been beautiful--bald with fat cheeks and blue-gray eyes. The doctor said her eye color could change later. Would she look like Beth now?
The bright lights in the tiny room caused sweat to form on her face. She leaned against the back wall and fanned herself.
The session lasted for an hour and near the end, Emma whined that she was hungry. She was probably hot, too, Beth figured. “Just a bit more, Emma. You can do it.”
Emma toddled back to the Christmas tree and picked up one of the pretend gifts. “Mine.” She shook the box.
The photographer let out a loud sigh. Children were obviously not his forte.
Beth tried to take the package from Emma. “There’s nothing in there, honey. Now go back over to the X. One more smile and we can go.”
Emma refused to let go of the box. Beth shrugged. “Okay. Take the gift and sit on the X.” She looked at the photographer. “Maybe we can use these in the Christmas cards.”
Emma sat down and pulled at the red velvet bow. She giggled as she tore into the package.
“No!” Beth said, but it was too late. Flashes kept popping as the photographer decided this was his last chance. When Emma uncovered the empty box, she cried.
The photographer snapped another picture before standing. He took off his glasses and wiped his brow. “I’ll have these ready for you to proof in about twenty minutes.”
There was no way Emma would be content here for another second—let alone twenty minutes. Beth hugged the disappointed little girl. “I think we’ll run out and grab a snack while you get things ready.”
Resisting the embrace, Emma squirmed and stomped her feet. “No! I want a gift.” She was so hungry and wiped out, there was no rationalizing with her.
If Beth had been thinking straight, she would’ve anticipated this. Their after-daycare routine included going home and eating a snack. Why hadn’t she grabbed a Healthy Habits granola bar from the office vending machine?
Too late now. “Want some ice cream? Or a cookie?” Beth gently tugged on Emma’s hand. “Let’s go get a cookie.” Anything to make her stop crying.
The cool air out
side immediately dried the sweat on Beth’s forehead. She looked up the street for a bakery or restaurant that might have something sweet. No such luck. They started walking anyway and passed a pet store.
Emma sniffled and pointed at the window. “Doggie! Doggie! I want a doggie!”
“No, we can’t get a dog.”
Emma scowled at her. “Mommy said I could have a doggie at her new place.”
Beth ground her molars. Mommy. “Maybe she’ll get you one, but we can’t get it today.” She tried to coax her down the sidewalk, but Emma stayed at the window with her nose pressed against the glass. “Can I pet him?” A little brown dachshund jumped toward her. He was just as excited to see Emma as she was to see him.
“Um.” Beth swallowed. “Don’t you want a cookie?”
“No!” Emma stomped her feet.
“Okay.” A bell jingled on the door as they stepped inside. Parakeets chirping, dogs barking, and the smell of grainy pet food greeted them. Noticing that bubbling fish tanks lined the back wall, Beth followed Emma to the dog cages they’d seen from the window.
Emma sat down and stuck her fingers through the slats. “Awww. Cute puppy.”
A teenaged girl in a white lab coat approached them. “Would you like to pet him? He’s my favorite.” She unlocked the cage and placed the wiener dog in Emma’s lap. The puppy jumped and squirmed, licking Emma’s cheeks.
Finally, Emma’s foul mood dissipated. She laughed as she petted the pup and Beth’s shoulders unclenched.
The teenaged employee went behind the counter and brought out a dog toy. “This is his favorite.” When she squeezed the plastic bone, it squeaked. Emma grinned and took the toy. Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!
The dachshund bit on one end of the bone and played tug-of-war with Emma. They were a good match. Neither gave up easily.
Beth sat down next to them. “I wonder if he knows how to fetch.” She wrestled the bone away from the dog and tossed it a few feet away. The dog took off running and stayed to chew on it.
A Weekend Getaway Page 6
