Cynthia and Coop finally crossed onto her property. They raced inside to get her wallet and keys. The keys were on a table in the entryway. As she reached to pick them up, she saw Glen standing to her right, by the foot of the stairs, motionless. He was wearing his after work casuals, which consisted of jeans, a green sweater, and brown leather loafers. Her stomach plummeted.
“Glen, hey.” She said, softly. She dropped Coop’s hand.
“I’ve been looking for you, Cynthia. I called.”
“Glen I… we have a lot to talk about.”
“Looks like we do,” he replied, turning his eyes to Coop.
“But right now we... we have to go.”
“What? No. Cynthia you can’t just—”
“Look,” Coop cut in, “we can sort this all out later, sit down and talk about everything, but right now we really have to go.”
“Cynthia, no. I deserve an explanation. Is this where you’ve been all day? Out with… him?” Glen spat, as if it disgusted him to say it.
“Glen really, I…” Cynthia put a hand on her chest and tried to think. She needed to get out of this house, but how could she convey that to Glen? How could she break it to him that she had to attend to something more important than their relationship?
“If you walk out that door now, without even giving me a reason for all of this,” he swept his right hand towards Coop, “then… well…”
“Glen, we really do have to go,” Cynthia said, as patiently as she could. She turned towards the door.
“Well, then, don’t think you can come back here,” Glen said, as authoritatively as he could.
“We won’t,” Cynthia replied. The door slamming behind her reinforced the weight of what she had said.
She knew those two words would destroy her already struggling marriage. She hadn’t meant to insult Glen like that. He deserved better than her parading into his house hand in hand with Coop and refusing an explanation. After all the years they had known each other and the vows they had made, she never wanted to end things with him this way. But in this moment, she couldn’t slow down to deal with him. Nothing mattered, nothing other than her daughter.
Cynthia pressed the keys into Coop’s hand and they ran to the car. He got into the driver’s seat and sped out of the driveway towards the hospital.
Truthfully, she thought as she and Coop drove, she was glad for the out Glen had given her. She didn’t have the time to explain anything to him, nor did she really want to. Honestly, it was easier for her to walk out of the house than to sit down and deal with a breakup.
They rode silently, aside from an occasional half-finished utterance; the only sounds were the roar of the engine and the click of the blinkers. Neither of them dared to wonder out loud the extent of what they would find when they arrived. A trip that normally took twenty minutes only took them ten, but it still felt like an eternity.
They left the car at the valet and raced inside.
“Where’s Tara?” Cynthia gasped as they were stopped at the reception desk.
“Last name?” The receptionist replied. She held her hands over her keyboard and turned her eyes to them, waiting for their reply.
Coop and Cynthia were silent. They looked at each other for one frantic moment, each trying to come up with Clive and Bunny’s last name.
“We’re her parents,” Coop pleaded, putting his hands down on the table and leaning in slightly.
“Parents who don’t know her last name?” The receptionist deadpanned, glancing at the security guard.
“She was with her parents. They were DOA. Nice try.”
The receptionist motioned for the security guard to come closer.
“We’re her birth parents, she was adopted.”
The receptionist didn’t respond. Instead, she addressed the security guard.
“Bryce, can you please escort these people—”
Cynthia didn’t hear the rest. She had seen a gurney in the hallway behind the counter. A few doctors and nurses were pushing it in the opposite direction, deeper into the hospital. She saw a tuft of brown hair. It had to be Tara. Cynthia grabbed Coop’s hand and pulled him past the receptionist’s desk towards the gurney. They heard a doctor addressing the group as they approached.
“Right now, we just have to control her bleeding. We think it’s some kind of clotting disorder—”
“Von Willebrand Disease,” Coop jumped in, to Cynthia’s surprise, “I have it; it’s genetic.”
“Yeah, that could be…” the doctor stopped walking and flipped through the pages of his reports.
The security officer had just caught up to Coop and was pulling on his arm.
“I’m sorry, Doctor, these two should not have gotten past the front desk. We’re taking them out now.”
“We’re her parents,” Cynthia said again. She squeezed one hand around the metal railing of the hospital bed and rested the other on her daughter’s hand. Cynthia wrapped her fingers around Tara’s for the first time since she gave birth to her over six years ago. She looked so small and helpless laying on the gurney in front of her. In that moment, Cynthia would have done anything to take her place.
“Is she going to be ok?” Cynthia asked,
“The birth parents?” The doctor said, ignoring both the guard’s protests and Cynthia’s question.
“Yes,” Cynthia replied, keeping her eyes on her daughter.
“They can stay; we may need them. Claudia,” the doctor continued, addressing nurse, “take some blood from these two and compare it to the patient’s.”
Cynthia caught Coop’s eye. For a moment, they shared a jolt of excitement. They were about to get their answer.
“Nothing personal,” the doctor said, “we just have to be sure.”
“Of course, yes, anything,” Cynthia said, looking at Coop. He was already rolling up his sleeve.
Claudia, a heavy set brunette woman in her mid-forties, led the two down the hall. Cynthia reached for Coop’s hand. He held hers tightly. They both stared straight ahead, following a nurse who was about to give them news that would change their lives.
Claudia finally stopped and held a curtain open for them. Behind it was a chair with a small table attached, like the ones students took tests on in high school. Cynthia sat down first. She stretched out her arm and rested it on the table to stop it from shaking. This was the most nerve-wracking moment of her life. She had been through so much in the last few days, and she was about to have a question that had plagued her for so long answered.
She reached out her hand without taking her eyes off Claudia, who was preparing her needles. Coop stretched over and held it. She took a deep breath in as Claudia came over and drew her blood.
“Is she going to be ok?” Cynthia asked again, hoping that Claudia would give her an answer.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say,” Claudia said. She signed and looked at both of them. She pulled the needle out of Cynthia’s arm.
“But now that we know what’s making her bleed the way she was… well, it’s looking up.”
“Thank you,” Cynthia replied. She started to cry and reached out to squeeze Claudia’s shoulder in thanks. Coop pulled Cynthia out of the chair and into a hug. She noticed tears falling from his eyes.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he said, to both her and himself.
Claudia quickly drew Coop’s blood and wrapped his forearm in an elaborate bandage to curb his bleeding.
“Okay,” she said, “follow me.”
Claudia led them down the maze of hallways until they emerged back in the waiting room.
“Wait—” Cynthia began to protest.
“I’m sorry, but she’s in surgery. You have to stay out here.” Claudia replied, giving them a sympathetic look before disappearing back into hallways of the hospital.
The next two hours crawled by. Cynthia and Coop sat motionless for most of it, only shifting when the discomfort of the stiff chairs became too much.
About halfway through, C
oop whispered intently to Cynthia.
“So what now? I mean I don’t want to seem… but, do we… do we just keep her?”
Cynthia hadn’t thought about anything like that. She thought about it from a legal perspective; she hadn’t accessed this knowledge since law school, but after a moment she remembered.
“Well, they have to see if there’s a will or not. I’m sure there is, but if it hasn’t been updated in a while, and… it depends on who they’ve appointed guardian in the event of their death. If those people don’t want to take on the responsibility, or if a judge deems them unfit, then we could step in and offer our services.”
“Okay,” Coop’s face fell a bit. Cynthia sensed that her answer had discouraged him.
“But at the end of the day it’s whatever best for Tara. The goal is to have as little disruption in her life as possible.”
“Like moving down the street?” Coop said hopefully, and Cynthia smiled.
“Hopefully,” she put her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
A woman walked into the waiting room and approached the front desk. She was wearing a wrinkled, bulky white button down that was tucked into ill-fitting khakis. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. She leaned down and mumbled something to the receptionist as she shuffled papers out of a folder in her hand. Cynthia saw the receptionist point in her direction. The woman nodded her thanks to the receptionist and came over towards Cynthia and Coop.
“Hi, I’m Nadia Turner,” she said, extending her hand.
Coop stood and introduced himself. Cynthia did the same.
“I’m a social worker, the staff here called me in to work on Tara Robison’s case. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course, we’ll answer whatever you want. We want to help anyway we can.”
“Great, thank you,” Nadia sat down across from Cynthia and Coop and spread her papers onto the table between them. She put a tattered yellow notepad on her lap and threw a pair of drugstore reading glasses on.
“Okay, so… you two are her birth parents?”
“Yes,” Cynthia responded for the both of them.
“And what was the reason for giving her up? Unstable home life? Money issues?” her eyes drifted to Coop’s tattoos. “Drug problems?”
“No,” Cynthia replied defensively, “nothing like that. Just—well I was young, and I was off to law school, and we were having problems so… I don’t know. It was just bad timing.” She could feel her face getting red. s
“Okay, no problem, no judgments here, I’ve seen it all,” she made some notes on her pad.
“So you two are married now?”
“No,” it was Coop’s turn to answer now, “no, we’re…”
“Engaged? I see you’re wearing a ring,” Nadia smiled encouragingly.
“Well no, I’m… I’m married to someone else, but...” Cynthia let go of Coop’s hand, “we’re having problems.” Cynthia regretted that answer as soon as it was out of her mouth.
Nadia paused, seeing if Cynthia was going to continue, then made a note on her pad. Cynthia was boiling hot. She was mad now. She could see the kind of picture their answers were painting. A couple who found the timing of a child inconvenient and gave her up because it was best for them, not because it was best for the child. Now they were reunited in an irresponsible affair. And while these observations were factually accurate, they didn’t tell the full story.
“Look,” Cynthia started, “I know how this sounds. We… we’ve messed up. We’ve made mistakes. I get it. I look like some selfish young mother who didn’t want to sacrifice her own education to deal with a child. And now I’m trying to live out some fantasy by having an affair with the guy who knocked me up. But listen, please. You have to understand that there’s so much more to our story. We were meant to be a family all along. We fell off track but we’re finally starting to get the hang of things. My marriage is over, and Coop and I, we…” Cynthia froze. She knew what she was going to say, but…
“And once it’s all finalized we’re going to get married,” Coop chimed in, picking up Cynthia’s hand and squeezing it.
“We are?” Cynthia smiled and let out a quick nervous laugh.
“Do you want to?” Coop asked.
“Well, yes, of course,” she laughed again, “I just never imagined being asked like this.”
Coop stood up and knelt before her on the worn tile of the hospital’s waiting room. His eyes were shining under the florescent lights.
“Cynthia Holland,” he said, suddenly very formal and nervous, “I don’t know. Honestly I have nothing planned. But will you marry me?”
“David Cooper,” she said, taking his hand, “I thought you’d never ask,” she smiled softly at the absurdity of it all. She leaned in to kiss him.
“Here,” Cynthia and David snapped their heads in Nadia’s direction. They had forgotten for a moment that she was there with them. She was holding out a tiny wire ring with a pearl on it. Coop took the ring and held Cynthia’s hand. He took off her giant diamond and replaced it with the tiny piece of costume jewelry that Nadia had provided. It stopped at her knuckle, too small to go on any further.
“I see a lot in my line of work,” Nadia’s voice was shaking. She put a hand on her chest. “I like to think that I’ve gotten pretty good at reading people, reading situations, seeing what makes up a good family, you know. And despite certain circumstances, you guys definitely have it.”
“Thank you,” Cynthia breathed, she was excited to have what she had known all along be recognized by someone else. She held Coop’s hand and for the first time in the last few days, she truly thought things would turn out alright. Nadia stood up and gathered her notes and papers.
“So, now I’ll meet with hospital staff and their lawyers. I’ll make my recommendations. We’ll have to see if the parents left any sort of will or have any family. Here’s my card. And if you could fill out these forms for me in the meantime, that’d be great. But I’ll tell you this, it’s always great to see a child end up with her birth parents,” she said as she dumped a packet on the table and dropped a pen on top of it.
“Wait we’re, we’re definitely… she’s ours?” Cynthia managed to get the words out before bursting into happy tears.
“Oh yes, I thought someone had told you already. Results are in. She’s yours.”
Cynthia stood up and Coop met her with a bear hug. She buried her face in his shoulder and let herself cry, laugh, and scream. Finally, after everything they’d been through, it was good to have one thing move in the right direction.
“Just one more thing,” Nadia said, putting her hand out. “I’m sorry but I need that ring back. I’m sorry, really, but it’s my sister’s, I borrowed it and I got caught up in the moment, but it’s not mine, so…” She trailed off and shrugged.
“Oh,” Cynthia was caught by surprise, “sure. Yeah, no problem,” Cynthia slipped the ring off and handed it back to Nadia, who smiled and walked further into the hospital.
Cynthia read through the forms and filled out what she could. She was having a hard time focusing after everything that had transpired in the past hour.
After another thirty restless minutes, the doctor they had run into in the hallway emerged into the waiting room. He had some gray in his hair, but was a surprisingly young man.
“I’m Dr. Kittan, one of the surgeons here. You can come with me.”
Dr. Kittan started down the hall at a quick walk. He spoke without looking at them. A lot of the terminology flew over their heads, but they were able to pick up on the important parts.
“The roads are icy this time of year. It’s dangerous out there. It looks like the family’s car was t-boned by a truck that lost control coming down a hill. The driver, Mr. Robison, was killed on impact. Tara and Mrs. Robison were transported here. Unfortunately, the extent of Mrs. Robison’s injuries was too great. The team in the field did everything they could but she didn’t make it out of the ambulance. Tara got lu
cky. The bulk of the impact hit the front left side of the car, and she was sitting in the back on the right side. She hit her head pretty hard and had some minor, superficial lacerations. In a normal patient, neither would be fatal. But, we couldn’t get her to stop bleeding, and we couldn’t figure out why. That’s where you came in. The information you gave us helped us save her life.
“So, she’s asleep right now. We had her under heavy sedation and of course she’s still working off the effects of the anesthesia. She hasn’t met with the social worker or anything, but I don’t think there’s any harm in you taking a look at her while she’s out. It’s the least we can do.”
Dr. Kittan stopped walking and held a door open. Cynthia saw the outline of a little girl under the blankets. She walked in slowly and sat on the very edge of the bed, trying her best not to disturb her. Gently, she picked up her hand and looked at it in hers. She had dreamed of this moment for so long. She ran her fingers through her hair. It was matted with blood. Coop stood awkwardly at the edge of the bed.
“Can you get me a washcloth? Something from the bathroom?”
Coop came back from the in-room bathroom with a wad of wet paper towels. Cynthia carefully squeezed the excess water onto Tara’s hair and gently began to work the dried blood out. She wanted to do everything she could. She wished she could have healed the cuts under her bandages and eased the pain that was waiting for her when she woke up. After a few minutes, Cynthia turned around and looked at Coop. He was still standing at the end of the bed with his hands in his pockets.
“Come here,” she said quietly, holding her hand out to him. He came forward and took it.
“I just… I feel like…” he trailed off. He didn’t have to finish; Cynthia knew what he was thinking. The past few days had been almost an out of body experience for both of them. At least Cynthia had more preparation than he had; she had known they had a child out in the world somewhere. Coop had never considered that. Within a matter of a few short days, he had to come to grips with the fact that he was a father and that he had missed the chance to be in his child’s life for the last six years. Then, he was faced with the possibility of losing that child forever. Now, standing in front of her, he had no idea how to act.
Romance: The Bad Boy Affair: A Second Chance Romance Page 6
