Connor caught himself smiling, until he glanced across at Claire and sobered. “I’m not aiming to compete with her grandfather. I was just thinking of a small icebreaker, maybe a stuffed animal. Something soft and cuddly.”
“Our gift shop stocks a nice selection. I don’t think you can go wrong with books or huggables. We don’t try to keep our pediatric rooms clutter-free. Children do better in a homey atmosphere.” Dahl swung into a drive that wound through a parklike setting of well-tended flower beds. Brick walkways crisscrossed lush green lawns. Every now and then they passed statuary of elves and fairies, strategically tucked beneath cypresses and palms.
“Practicing at this hospital doesn’t look like hardship duty,” Connor murmured.
“It’s privately endowed. Generously so by men like the senator. But Forrest Memorial is also a top-notch teaching facility. Unlike other private hospitals, we take indigent cases. And anyone admitted here receives the best medicine has to offer.”
“So, having Liddy in and out of here hasn’t strapped Mallory financially?” Connor asked the question of Fredric Dahl, but Claire jumped in with an answer.
“Are you kidding, Connor? Read the plaque. The name of the place is Forrest Memorial. Daddy endows it. I’m sure he got Mallory her cushy job. I’d ask if the word nepotism rings a bell, but isn’t that a foregone conclusion?”
Connor disliked these jabs Claire was making. Dr. Dahl mildly rebuked her. “Bradford may exert influence when it comes to building additions and hiring doctors. He doesn’t meddle in support staff. He didn’t want Mallory to work. In the end, he couldn’t stop her. As for the service his family gets, they pay full freight. Mallory’s only perk is the decent insurance package all hospital employees receive. She’s refused government benefits for Liddy because she said there are patients in far greater need. You’re mistaken if you think this has been easy on her.”
Connor thought it was fortunate they’d reached the parking space marked with Dr. Dahl’s name. He’d plainly been dreaming when he hoped Claire wouldn’t be jealous of Mallory. It was a side of Claire he’d rarely seen. There’d been the occasional glimpse, but never enough to instill serious doubt. Nervous though he was at the prospect of meeting his daughter for the first time, he could do little but squeeze Claire’s knee reassuringly. “We won’t stay long, this visit,” he said, hoping to set her mind at ease. “Lydia doesn’t know me, and I don’t know her.”
“Then what’s the point in coming?” Claire demanded.
Dr. Dahl exited the car and opened Claire’s door, while Connor scrambled out his side.
“Please don’t argue like this in front of Liddy Bea,” Dahl cautioned. “She’s recovering nicely from last week’s surgery. Being only six, she may not totally comprehend the significance of what it means to have lost her donor kidney. All the same, her emotions are fragile.”
Connor clasped Claire’s hand. “This situation has us all stressed. Claire and I will be mindful of what we say, won’t we, darling?”
She blinked several times. When she opened her eyes, they were filmy. Still, she nodded. “I am upset. I’ll let Connor do the talking.”
That seemed to satisfy Dr. Dahl. He escorted the couple to the lobby. After pointing out the gift shop, he gave them Lydia’s floor and room number. “Connor, nice meeting you. Understand, my hands are tied until you phone my office and give the go-ahead to schedule preliminary tests.”
“Claire and I will talk tonight. I’ll phone your office tomorrow.”
“Good. Enjoy your visit with Liddy Bea. She’s a normal six-year-old in every way except for her nonfunctional kidneys. Oh, and she’s a regular authority when it comes to Blue’s Clues, and Hello Kitty.”
When Connor was obviously stumped by that, Dahl laughed. “Blue is a cartoon dog. Hello Kitty is a cat logo that appears on almost every type of little-girl merchandise imaginable. Liddy Bea loves books and videos, too.”
“Thanks,” Connor called as the doctor quickened his pace and left them.
Claire entered the gift shop first. She picked up a white bear sprouting angel wings and a glittery halo. Its hard body was hidden by layers of a frothy net covered in glitter.
Connor reached for a floppy-eared pink elephant. “Squeeze this,” he told Claire. “He’s huggable, don’t you think?”
“Okay if she was three. First-graders are more sophisticated. Angels are the in thing, Connor. I recommend buying this.”
He continued to eye the elephant he put back on the shelf.
“Trust me. My cousin Pam has a daughter who’s seven. Her room is filled with angel junk.”
“What do I know about little girls?” Taking the angel bear to the counter, Connor paid for it and asked the cashier to remove the price. “We’re delivering this to someone upstairs.”
Purchase complete, they walked to the elevator and rode upstairs. The closer they came to Liddy’s room, the more Connor hung back. Eventually they reached her half-shut door. “Show time,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. Pinning on a nervous smile, he stepped into his daughter’s room.
A pixielike child with russet Shirley Temple curls reclined on a bed framed by a battery of beeping monitors. She gazed at him from eyes exactly like the ones that stared back at him each morning from his bathroom mirror. Connor’s stomach heaved, and something seemed to tear inside his chest. He wanted to burn this image into his brain—and then run like hell.
Instead, he moved closer to the bed. Up to now, he’d thought his most important contribution to mankind was his hurricane-detection system. How wrong he was. This beautiful child made every other accomplishment pale in significance. She looked part imp, part angel, with an unruly mop of dark curls bobbing around a swollen face. Dr. Dahl had warned them Liddy would appear puffy from having returned to steroids. To Connor, she looked absolutely perfect.
The child stared openly back at him, her lips quirked in a slightly crooked smile also reminiscent of his own. The coy way she cocked her head reminded him of a younger Mallory. As his child’s features coalesced before him, Connor’s memory flew back to the day he’d first met Liddy Bea’s mother.
Suddenly, another thought crowded in, refueling his anger at her for keeping his daughter a secret from him for six long years of her life—and nearly seven of his. He’d never hear Liddy’s first coo. Never see her crawl, or take that all-important first step. He’d missed her first words. So many milestones gone. Lost to him forever. And why? Why had Mallory cut him out?
Liddy rose on one elbow. Her other arm was taped to an IV drip. “Hi. I’m Lydia Beatrice Forrest. I don’t know you, so you’ve probably got the wrong room. I can ring a nurse. She’ll help you find where you want to be.”
Connor rallied. “Thanks. Actually, uh…we came to see you. I’m Connor and this is Claire. I’m an…old friend of your mom’s. I’ve been away a long time, but I’m back visiting Tallahassee. Your grandpa said you could probably use some company. So here we are,” he finished, sounding as if he’d run a fast mile.
The child’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, good. I love comp’ny.” She settled back.
“The bear,” Claire muttered, jabbing Connor.
“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot.” He produced the bear, which Liddy instantly shied away from. “Go ahead, take it. Claire picked it out.”
Liddy frowned and shook her head until her curls danced. “Angels took my grandmas to heaven. Don’t want no angel coming for me.” The child’s own eyes brightened with tears as she tried to crowd into the far corner of her bed.
“It’s just a toy,” Claire exclaimed.
“That’s okay, honey,” Connor quickly consoled the child. “We’ll give this bear to the playroom,” he promised, handing the toy to Claire. “Anyway, it looks to me as if you have stuffed animals aplenty to bring you cheer and good luck.”
“Stuffed animals aren’t for luck, silly.” Liddy giggled and brushed at the tears lingering on her dark lashes. She pointed to a small figurine of a fat pink elephan
t sitting centerstage on her windowsill. “Ellie’s my good-luck charm. She’s really Mommy’s,” Liddy confided in a whisper. “I only got her ’cause I had surgery.” An oversize sigh escaped. “Ellie watches over me, but I can’t touch her. She’s special.”
Connor followed her finger to the glass figurine. Memories suddenly overwhelmed him, dumping him headlong into a long-ago afternoon when Mallory discovered that very elephant in the window of a beach shop. She had no money or credit card with her, which was unusual. But, oh, how she’d coveted that odd little piece.
The next day he’d cut class and hitchhiked back to buy it—all the while fearing it’d be gone. It wasn’t. But buying it had taken every cent he had to his name, with not one red penny left for wrap. So he’d wrapped it himself, in newsprint, for Mallory’s sixteenth birthday. Even now, heat crept up his neck as he recalled his later embarrassment. His badly wrapped gift had looked worse than tacky sitting among the expensive things Mallory’s other friends had brought to her party.
“I can’t believe Mallory saved this,” he blurted. “I gave it…uh, I mean, your mom’s had this since she was sixteen.” Extending an unsteady finger, Connor stroked the cool glass.
Liddy Bea sat up straighter, her eyes suddenly alight with interest. “Did you know my daddy?” she whispered. “Mommy said Ellie’s the only present my daddy ever gave her, ’cept for me. Isn’t that silly? Nobody can give somebody a girl.”
Claire inhaled sharply.
Connor caught himself seconds before he slipped and said that he and Liddy’s daddy were one and the same. Luckily, a nurse popped her head into the room just then. “Visiting hours are over,” she announced. “You can come back this evening.”
Thoroughly rattled, Connor uttered a hasty goodbye. Fast though it was, he still had to jog down the hall to catch Claire. “Hey! I thought we’d leave this bear at the desk. Claire, what’s your rush?” he called, puzzled that she continued walking rapidly in the direction of the elevator. Once there, she jammed the button several times.
“As if you don’t know,” she hissed when he reached her. “You lied to me. On the plane, when I asked what gifts you’d given Mallory, you said nothing. That elephant sure looks like something to me. Now I see why you wanted to buy the stuffed one. It’s some kind of family good-luck symbol, isn’t it?”
Silently, the elevator door opened. Claire wedged herself into the only space left on the packed car. Without warning, she threw the angel bear at Connor. It bounced off his chest as the doors slid closed.
Connor juggled the toy to keep it from striking the floor. “Honest, I didn’t remember buying the elephant,” he shouted—too late for explanations. He felt a sharp ache behind his eyes. Floundering momentarily, Connor turned to stare back at Liddy’s room, which was a wash of light and warmth. The unexplained pain receded, and at once his world righted itself. Granted, Claire had a lot to contend with just now. In time, they’d be able to agree on the course of action that was best for everyone.
CHAPTER FOUR
ON AN EVEN KEEL AGAIN, Connor found the stairs. He clattered down the first flight in pursuit of Claire. He couldn’t get mad at her. Poor Claire was caught in a mess of his making. His and Mallory’s. Lord knew his feelings for Mallory still ran hot and cold. One minute old memories—good memories—let him go soft on her. Then he’d think about her deception, and he’d be as angry as a man could be.
Claire was the innocent here. Her only fault lay in falling for a guy who had a shady past she knew nothing about. Hell, he hadn’t known about it himself.
As he burst from the stairwell into the lobby, Connor saw Claire pacing near an occupied public phone. Relieved to see her, he loped across the room, still holding the angel bear.
Slowed by the tense set of her shoulders, he automatically gentled his tone. “Claire?”
“That man,” she burst out. “The senator’s driver. He’s waiting for us outside. I know they took our bags, but how can you put me in a position of staying in a house with your former mistress?”
“Mistress? Mallory wasn’t my…” Connor’s brows dived together. “No, Claire—our relationship wasn’t like that.”
“Then how was it? You admit you two lived together.” Her lower lip protruded. “What should I think, Connor? Am I supposed to just accept these little surprises?”
“Listen…Mallory and I were teenage friends who grew closer during a horrible time in my life. She helped pull me through. Looking back, I think we saw each other differently. Oh, hell, I’m not doing a good job of explaining, am I?”
“Maybe I should go home to Miami now and let you work this out.”
Heaving the stuffed toy into a vacant lobby chair, Connor took Claire’s arm and herded her toward the revolving door. “Please stay. You heard what Dr. Dahl said about how huge the Forrest home is. Let’s go there, at least accept their hospitality long enough to freshen up. We’ll probably have the house to ourselves for a few hours. Once we’re rested, it’ll be easier to discuss things rationally.”
“And what will your Mallory be doing throughout our rational discussion?” Claire sniped, balking at the door.
“She’s not my Mallory. Anyway, Dr. Dahl said she works. Here at the hospital.” Glancing at his watch, Connor saw that it was five, normally quitting time. “Even if she’s finished for the day, I imagine she’d go to her own home rather than her dad’s.”
Seemingly mollified by that prospect, Claire shook off Connor’s hand and exited the hospital under her own steam. He stopped a passing nurse and asked her to donate the angel bear to one of the children’s play areas.
Outside, Brad Forrest’s driver bounded from the limousine to whip open the back door. “The senator asked me to let you know he has a cocktail party that started at four-thirty. I’ll pick him up at seven, in time for dinner at eight. Meanwhile, Marta—she runs the house—will make you comfortable.”
“Thank you. And your name is?” Connor asked politely before he slid in next to Claire.
“Davis, sir. I’ve been with the senator since he was first elected.”
“Well, Davis. Thanks for waiting. It’s been a tough trip for us, but you probably know the situation.”
“Yes, sir,” the old man murmured, gently closing Connor’s door.
“The ride across town ought to be relatively short,” Connor informed Claire. Then, because the sliding window between them and Davis remained ajar, he didn’t bring up anything personal. Instead, he drew Claire’s attention to remembered landmarks as they drove past. “Look, there’s the old capitol. Over there’s the new one. Clyde’s is a locally famous bar. By day,” he said, grinning, “state legislators conduct high-level meetings there. After hours, college students swarm the place.”
He rattled on with such fondness for the sights that Claire finally interrupted. “You miss Tallahassee, don’t you.”
Connor, who still had his nose pressed to the side window, turned to stare at her. “I haven’t thought much about it. The culture’s more Old South here than in Miami. I like that. Remember, I was born and raised here. But there are good memories, and bad.” A muscle in his jaw jumped as he studied the landscape over her shoulder. “Ah—there’s the cemetery where my mother is buried.”
“Really?” Claire spun to see it.
“Yes. I’d like to bring flowers, maybe tomorrow. It’s been a while since I’ve visited. Too long.” He craned his neck to keep the wrought-iron fence in view.
“Mrs. Forrest’s buried there, too.” Davis glanced at Connor in the rearview mirror. “The senator takes white roses by her grave every Monday, rain or shine. White roses were the missus’s favorite.”
“Then you’ll be able to direct me to a florist. I’m afraid that when I lived here before, I never had money for extras—like flowers.”
Claire gave a little snort. “Only hand-blown glass elephants. And that’s a pretty ritzy cemetery.”
“Meaning what? There’s a difference in cemeteries?”
From Claire’s dry expression, Connor figured there must be. “I…uh, didn’t purchase the plot.” He paled under his robust tan. “I guess I was too out of it at the time to notice. Mallory took charge. She handled the entire funeral.”
“She was how old? Sixteen? Obviously her parents made the arrangements.”
“No. I’m absolutely sure she got no help from them. She did it all by herself.”
“I forgot. St. Mallory.”
Connor gnawed on his upper lip, deciding silence was the safest bet. Which was okay, because Davis slowed and turned into a driveway facing a massive set of iron gates. One gate swung open when he pressed a button under the dash.
Forrest House, an antebellum, white-columned structure, commanded the entire top of a grassy knoll. Stately magnolias and spreading live oaks flanked the residence. The postcard picture it presented was grand enough to draw a gasp from Claire.
“Intimidating, isn’t it?” Connor muttered.
“Impressive,” she said in a small voice. “Oh, my, is that a pool near those cabanas off to the left? Um…maybe we shouldn’t be too hasty about finding another place, Connor. This is like a five-star resort.”
“What about privacy?” Connor twisted in his seat, realizing belatedly that Davis had circled a bronze sculpture of towering pine trees and stopped at the bottom of marble steps leading to an even more imposing set of carved wooden doors. Troublesome memories assailed him. Connor helped Claire out of the car this time, and Davis drove on to a detached seven-car garage situated at the end of the cobbled terrace.
“Place looks deserted,” Connor observed, trailing Claire up the broad steps.
“Just ring the bell,” she said, still attempting to take in all the sights around the parklike grounds. “Surely the senator’s staff is home. Davis said the housekeeper would take care of us. I can’t recall her name. Do you remember?”
Connor shook his head as he pressed the bell. Suddenly, he wished he’d heeded Claire’s first preference and found another place to stay.
The Seven Year Secret Page 6
