Taffy Sinclair 006 - Taffy Sinclair, Baby Ashley, and Me

by Betsy Haynes

  When my friends saw me at school the next morning, they nearly fainted with relief.

  "Oh, Jana!" Beth said, leaning against a tree as if she couldn't stand up by herself. "It looks great! I've been so worried. I thought you'd never speak to me again."

  "Me, too," said Melanie. "I cried all night just thinking about what we did to your hair."

  "It's okay," I said. "In fact, I like it better this way." I got admiring glances from everybody, including Randy Kirwan. Only Taffy Sinclair was upset. She took one look at me when I passed her on the school ground and stormed off toward the door.

  I had almost forgotten about my interview with Curtis Trowbridge for the Mark Twain Sentinel until Wiggins handed out the paper right after she took roll and made the morning announcements. The headline was nothing special:

  SIXTH-GRADERS FIND BABY

  But the article was so great that it made me want to break-dance on the top of my desk. Today was definitely my day. It began: "Thanks to the keen ears of Jana Morgan, a tiny baby known only as Ashley was saved from freezing to death on the front steps of Mark Twain Elementary on Tuesday morning."

  It went on to say that Taffy and I were walking down the hall when I heard a sound and insisted that we both look around. It did say that Taffy brought Ashley inside the building, of course, but then it said the best part of all. Good old Curtis Trowbridge. He wrote it just the way I told him: "When Ashley grabbed Jana's finger and started pulling it toward her mouth, Jana alertly realized that the baby was hungry. She dug around in the basket and found a bottle of milk. Then she cuddled Ashley in her arms and fed her until she was full and a smiling, happy baby again."

  It's about time somebody got the story straight, I thought smugly. Curtis is certainly a better reporter than that Herb Little from the Bridgeport Post! Then I looked at Taffy Sinclair. Luckily, she sits four seats in front of me, up near Wiggins's desk, so I can keep an eye on her without having to turn around. Taffy was twirling a strand of her hair around her finger so furiously while she read the paper that I could almost swear I saw smoke coming out of her ears. For an instant I felt a little guilty. I remembered how special it had been when Taffy and I found Ashley, almost as if we were friends. But she had been going around trying to convince people that she was more important to Ashley than I was. That wasn't true! I was just as important as she was. Now maybe everyone would understand.

  CHAPTER TEN

  The next afternoon Pink picked up Mom and me in his blue Camaro at one-thirty and drove us across town to the police station. It was going to be a super afternoon, and I couldn't decide if I was more excited about seeing Ashley again or being interviewed for television.

  "Wow! You look gorgeous," Pink said as I squeezed into the backseat. "And I really like your hair."

  "Thanks." I didn't admit it to Pink, but I felt gorgeous. I had picked out my pale blue sweater with the lace collar, which is my favorite and definitely makes me look older. Besides that, Mom had assured me that it would look great on TV. I was also wearing my navy and beige pleated skirt and my new flats with lacy beige anklets.

  We had scarcely pulled away from the curb when I leaned forward and asked, "Do you think Ashley will remember me?"

  Mom smiled at me over the top of her bucket seat. "I'll bet she will," she said happily. "You're a very important person in her life."

  I sank back, feeling glad. Then another thought occurred to me. "If she remembers me," I said slowly, "then she'll probably remember her mother . . . and being abused."

  Mom's expression clouded. "Oh, dear. I didn't mean that she would REALLY remember you," she said apologetically. "She's too young for that. I just meant that you were able to make her so happy when you found her that I'm sure she'll be happy when she's with you again."

  "Then she would NOT be happy with her mother," I persisted. "Right?"

  "We don't know that, Jana," said Pink. "Nobody knows if Ashley actually was abused or if that bruise was from an accident."

  "Think of all the times you've gotten bruised," Mom interjected. "They were accidents, weren't they?"

  "But you didn't abandon me!" I challenged. "Like Beth said, Ashley's mother beat up her baby and then dumped her."

  Mom let out an exasperated sigh and looked away from me the way she always does when she decides that she can't reason with me anymore. I knew that I was being unreasonable. I also knew that I should be happy that I was on my way to see Ashley again and to be on television and that my hair looked great. I was happy, but I couldn't help all the other feelings I was having at the same time. I just loved Ashley so much, and I couldn't stand to think of her being hurt again.

  Pink pulled the car into the parking lot beside the police station. I wondered if Ashley was already inside. I looked at the big brick building and shuddered. It looked like a prison, not like the sort of place where you would go to visit a baby.

  When we got inside, Mom smiled and nudged me toward the main desk. "Go ahead," she said gently. "Tell them who you are. I'm sure they're expecting you."

  I looked at Pink. He nodded, and then he gave me a wink and a big smile.

  I took a deep breath and approached the front desk. The policeman who looked up from his paperwork smiled at me, and I wondered if he already knew who I was. "My name is Jana Morgan," I said importantly. "I'm here to see Officer Martin and baby Ashley."

  "Yes, of course," he said kindly. "Officer Martin is expecting you. If you and your parents would like to follow me, she's in one of the conference rooms."

  I blushed when he said "parents" and glanced at Pink, who winked at me again. Of course the policeman had no way of knowing that Pink was Mom's boyfriend and not my father.

  Officer Martin opened the conference room door as soon as we knocked. She had a big smile on her face, and I could tell instantly that she was genuinely glad to see me. "Come on in," she said. "Ashley will be here in a couple of minutes."

  I introduced Officer Martin to Mom and Pink, and while they talked I looked around the room. There was a big conference table in the middle with about a dozen chairs around it. There was a window looking out onto a street, and on the opposite wall was a green chalkboard. That was it. I sighed and started to fidget. Where was Ashley? What was taking so long?

  Just then there was another knock at the door. I sucked in my breath and whirled around. The door opened and there she was, wrapped in a bright pink quilt and being carried by a lady in a brown coat. I didn't look at the lady. All I could see was Ashley. Her eyes were closed, and she was snuggled all cozy and warm in the lady's arms. She was so beautiful with her rosy little cheeks and her tiny, button nose that I thought my heart would burst.

  The lady carrying Ashley stepped toward me. "Hello, Jana. I'm Mrs. Ellison, Ashley's foster mother. I'm very glad to meet you." Then she bent forward slightly so that I could get a better look at Ashley.

  "Hi," I said without taking my eyes off Ashley's face. "I'm glad to meet you, too."

  I don't know if it was the sound of my voice that woke Ashley, but at just that moment she opened her eyes and looked straight at me—and then she smiled. Ashley's smile lit up the whole room. It was as if a million Christmas lights had been switched on. I was glowing, too. I knew I had to be, and I couldn't take my eyes off her face or hear what it was that Mom and the others were saying. It didn't matter. Ashley was here. She was okay, and she was smiling at me.

  "Would you like to hold her?" Mrs. Ellison said.

  I nodded, too filled with the joy of seeing Ashley again to answer.

  "Just sit down in one of the chairs," she instructed. "Let me know when you're comfortable, and I'll put Ashley in your arms."

  I settled in a chair, then nodded at Mrs. Ellison. The room got very quiet as she gently put Ashley into my waiting arms. She smelled clean and sweet and faintly of talcum powder. She was heavier than I remembered, but I held her tightly. "Hi, Ashley," I said in a chirpy voice. "Remember me?"

  Ashley smiled again and made a gurgly sound. Th
en she pushed her little fist out from her blanket and waved it at me as if she were saying hello. She was glad to see me. I knew she was, whether she remembered exactly what happened when we were together before or not. She knew I was her friend and that she could trust me—forever.

  Pink knelt down beside me and stroked Ashley's forehead. She turned her beautiful blue eyes on him and gave him one of her fabulous smiles. He looked so proud you would have thought Ashley was his little girl. For an instant I couldn't help thinking that maybe he would make a pretty good father after all, in spite of how I'd felt before.

  "You were right, honey," he said. "Ashley is a beautiful baby. I can see why you love her so much and why you have been so worried about her. "

  "The two of you must be very proud of Jana," said Officer Martin.

  Pink and Mom both nodded and looked down at me. Then Mom asked her the question I was dying to ask. "Have you found Ashley's mother yet?"

  Officer Martin shook her head. "I'm afraid not. We've had very few clues to follow, and it doesn't look as if Ashley was born anywhere in this area. We've checked all the birth certificates on file with the state of Connecticut and with every hospital, and nobody has a record of a baby girl named Ashley with a birthday around the time we think she was born. We've checked all the footprint records, too, since they're more accurate than names. Sometimes people change babies' names or don't name them until several days after the birth certificate is recorded. We haven't given up the search, though," she said, looking straight at me. "We'll find someone who knows something. You can count on that."

  I nodded, and all the mixed-up feelings I had been having came flooding over me again. Part of me wanted Ashley's mother to be found. And punished for hurting Ashley. Maybe even put in jail. But another part of me wasn't sure. I looked at Ashley's sunny smile. "I love you," I whispered and held out my finger for her to grab hold of.

  Just then another knock sounded at the door. Officer Martin excused herself and went to answer it. It's more police officers wanting to get a look at Ashley, I thought. But when the door opened and I looked up, I got the surprise of my life.

  There stood Taffy Sinclair, smiling so big that you could see her one crooked bicuspid, and she was carrying a gigantic teddy bear.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Pandemonium broke out in the conference room the minute Taffy Sinclair stepped through the door. She swooped down on Ashley and me, practically smothering Ashley with that stupid teddy bear. At the same time Taffy's mother and father trooped in, pushing Mom and Pink aside and marching over to see Ashley for themselves. They were followed by Marge Whitworth and her entire television crew. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

  I cuddled Ashley to protect her from all the people, but it didn't help. She began to cry. Ashley didn't just cry. She started with a little wail, closing her eyes and screwing up her face into a grimace, and ended up screaming. I rocked her a little bit and patted her and tried to coo in her ear as she wailed away, but she was too upset. And so was I. It was all Taffy Sinclair's fault. She had spoiled everything.

  Finally, Mrs. Ellison took Ashley out of my arms and carried her over to a corner, where she was able to quiet her down in spite of all the noise and confusion. Mrs. Sinclair, a brassy blonde who looked a lot like Taffy only older, was talking a mile a minute to Marge Whitworth, telling her how Taffy had once had a part on TV. She's probably trying to get Taffy a television show of her own, I thought with disgust. Taffy's father stood quietly to one side. He was a chubby man with a fringe of dark hair that stretched around the back of his head and hooked over each ear, leaving the top bald and shiny like a mirror.

  Officer Martin walked over and looked at me sympathetically. "I guess I forgot to tell you that they were coming. Marge Whitworth called this morning to ask if there were any new developments in the search for Ashley's mother, and I just happened to mention that you were coming to see the baby this afternoon. She got excited about the idea of having you and Taffy and the baby all on television together. Then she offered to call Taffy and her parents and set the whole thing up if we would allow her to tape the interview here at the station."

  "Oh," I grumbled. I knew that I shouldn't be mad at Officer Martin. She didn't mean to cause any problems, but why did Taffy Sinclair have to be here? Why did she have to come barging in just when Ashley and I were having such a super time? Ashley had been smiling at me. She didn't start crying until Taffy and all the other people got here.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw that Mrs. Ellison was letting Taffy hold Ashley now that she was quiet again. Everyone else was getting quiet again, too, looking at Taffy as if she were an angel sitting on a cloud. I knew that I shouldn't be jealous since she had helped find Ashley, but I couldn't help it. It didn't seem fair. Taffy always got attention, no matter what she was doing.

  "Hi, darling little baby Ashley," Taffy said in her icky sweet voice. "Did you see the BIG present I brought you?"

  Behind me I heard Marge Whitworth talking to one of her crew. "Wasn't that thoughtful of Taffy Sinclair?" she was saying. "She brought the baby that beautiful bear."

  I didn't listen to her crew member's response. I didn't want to hear it. More than anything I wished that I had brought Ashley a great present. Why didn't I think of it? Nobody, not even Taffy, loved Ashley more than I did.

  Just then I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up. Mom was there, and she was smiling. "Miss Whitworth says you should be getting ready for the interview. They're going to be setting up in a minute. She suggested that you put on a little bit of lip gloss and blush so that you won't look pale under all the lights. I brought some with me. Shall we go to the ladies' room and get you all fixed up?"

  I was too choked up to say anything so I nodded and followed her out of the room. When we got back Mrs. Ellison was holding Ashley again, and Taffy was by the chalkboard with her parents, primping in a small mirror. The television crew was scampering everywhere. They had set up enormous lights on tripod legs and had trained them on three chairs at one end of the room. Between two of the chairs was a small table and on top of it was a plastic baby carrier. I guessed that was where Ashley would be during the interview. There was also a tiny microphone, the kind you pin to your clothes, lying on each seat, and the wires coming from them were crisscrossing around the floor. A big man with curly red hair was pulling a heavy black camera out of a box marked "Minicam" and balancing it on one shoulder.

  "Okay, Miss Whitworth," he called out. "We're ready when you are."

  Marge Whitworth took charge of the scene at once. She was a pretty woman with dark hair falling softly to her shoulders. But she spoke sharply and sounded like a general. She reminded me of Wiggins when she gets angry at our class.

  "All right, parents. I'd appreciate absolute silence while the interview is going on. Your daughters and I are going to have a good time, so just relax."

  I stole a quick glance at Mom and Pink. It had never occurred to me that they might be nervous, but Mom was shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, and Pink was biting on one of his fingernails. I had never seen him do that before. It meant that he cared for me more than I had ever realized. I couldn't help but smile.

  "Taffy, you sit on the left side of the table, and Jana, you sit on the right. I'll take this chair." As she said that she pulled her chair a little way away from the other two and angled it so that she was turned toward us. Then she sat down and pinned her mike to her blouse. Taffy and I did the same.

  "You're probably nervous, but I'm not," Taffy whispered wickedly. "I'VE been on television before."

  "I'm not nervous either," I snapped, even though it was a lie.

  Then Miss Whitworth explained to us that they were just making a tape right now and that there would be plenty of time to edit out anything that we didn't want to appear on TV. I supposed she meant that if Ashley started screaming again or if we goofed and said something embarrassing, the whole world wouldn't have to hear it. I was relieved by that. Then
she signaled Mrs. Ellison, who brought Ashley over and gently laid her in the baby seat. Ashley was beaming, and when she smiled at me I forgot all about being nervous. "Now, girls, smile," Miss Whitworth said, "and we'll roll the tape."

  I did, looking straight at the little red light on the camera as Miss Whitworth started speaking. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight it is my privilege to present two sixth-graders from Mark Twain Elementary School here in Bridgeport and baby Ashley, the little girl they found abandoned on the school steps last Tuesday morning.

  "I'm going to begin this interview by introducing each of them to you. Jana, will you tell us your name and a little bit about yourself?"

  When she said my name, I jumped as if someone had jabbed me with a pin. I didn't know that I was going to be first.

  "My na . . . my name is Jana Morgan," I began in a shaky voice. "I go to school at Mark Twain Elementary and I'm in the sixth grade." I shot Miss Whitworth a quick grin to let her know that that was all I could think of to say.

  She got it. "Thank you, Jana. Now, Taffy. May we hear a little bit about you?"

  Taffy looked straight into the camera with a big fake smile on her face. "My name is Taffy Sinclair and I live at nine oh oh seven High Ridge Road with my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Sinclair. In addition to school, I enjoy acting and recently had a part in a daytime drama called Interns and Lovers on national TV."

  I thought I'd die. "Daytime drama" instead of soap opera! What a snobby thing to say. Besides that, Taffy Sinclair had practically given her whole life history, and all I had said was that I was in sixth grade at Mark Twain Elementary.

  Marge Whitworth was talking again. "I think almost everybody has heard about your experience finding Ashley. But I'd like each of you to tell the audience about it in your own words. Taffy, you begin this time. What happened Tuesday morning?"