She hadn’t been far from his mind since her visit earlier that week. Memory of her sad blue eyes haunted him.
The man at the front desk asked him for ID, then called back to the studio to find out if Tia knew him. A few minutes later a woman came through a set of nearby doors and smiled at him. “You must be Danny. You should’ve seen the way Tia brightened up when she heard you were here.” She offered her hand and he took it.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m Danny Tullis.”
“Marilyn Novak.” She picked up a guest pass from the guard and handed it to Danny. “Come with me. Tia’s busy doing her last-minute prep, but I can take you in to talk to her for a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” Danny was fascinated by the low buzz of talk around them as they walked down a few hallways and into the studio. The news anchors were huddled around some papers on set, three men spoke by one of the big cameras and people rushed past. Marilyn led him to the other corner of the set where the tiny kitchen was arranged. Tia scooped flour into a small glass bowl on the counter and lined it up with several other bowls. She glanced up at them and a smile bloomed across her face. “This is a nice surprise. What’s going on?” she asked when Danny got close enough to hear.
“I stopped in to say hi, and to see how things are going.” He studied her. Through all of her stage makeup it was hard to tell if she had dark shadows under her eyes. Had she slept better? She didn’t look tired. He glanced at Marilyn, who smiled in understanding and made her excuses before retreating.
“I’m all set up here for noon.” Tia stopped to check the oven and nodded. “Right on schedule. I have a few minutes.” She led him out of the kitchen area to a corner, releasing her hair from the elastic which held it away from her face.
“Good. Sorry to drop in on you. I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to talk with me.” He brushed a lock of her curly red hair back from her cheek. “I’ve been wondering how you were dealing with everything.”
Tia nodded. “I told my parents last night. They were shocked.”
“That was probably an understatement.”
“Yeah.” Her lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “As far as we can tell, the switch must have happened in the first four to six hours after I was born, otherwise they probably would have realized I wasn’t their baby. Now I have to figure out who else had baby girls during that window, and then try to track them down.”
“And then what?”
She blew out a long breath. “I don’t know. Even if I find the family, do I disturb their lives by telling them the truth? The other woman, the one my mom gave birth to, has she lived a happy life? Who switched us? Why would they? How did they manage? Didn’t they put tags on us before we ever left our mother’s sides? There are too many unanswered questions.”
She twisted her hands together. “And then there’s my brother, Wes. He knows why my parents split up. In fact, I have the feeling he knew even before Samantha’s party, though he never breathed a word of it to me.” Her brow furrowed in irritation at this. “We haven’t discussed any of it with him. Or at least, I haven’t. What is he going to think about it?”
Danny set his hands on Tia’s shoulders. “Give it time. First things first. We’ll find out about your other family, see what we can learn, and go from there.”
“We?” She smiled at him, curiosity sliding into her eyes. “Since when did this become we?”
He chuckled. “Wishful thinking on my part?”
“You don’t even know me.”
He thought he probably understood her better than she realized. “I’d like to.”
“I see.” Several seconds passed as she absorbed his comment. “I think I’d like that too.”
Danny wanted to do a fist pump, but managed to keep from making a fool of himself. That was definite progress.
The producer called out a five-minute warning until the show started.
Tia sighed. “You better go up to the control room to watch. They don’t like visitors on set during filming.”
“Would it be okay for me to hang around until you’re finished?” Say yes.
She smiled. “I’d like that. Then you can taste today’s dish.”
“My mouth is already watering.” To kiss her, but he managed to keep his hands and lips to himself.
Tia laughed, then motioned to a man with shaggy black hair. “Hey, Tom, can you take Danny up to the control booth to watch the filming?”
“Sure.”
“See ya.” Danny cocked a grin at Tia and followed the man upstairs.
Watching the maneuvers behind the scene was an education. Danny studied the way people moved in the room, who did what, and wished he could ask Tia about each job. He watched her pull the pan out of the oven and test it, then set it on a tray out of the way.
Soon the camera moved to her and she began her cooking segment. She did the first part of the show, then they broke for commercials. She rushed through mixing, then moved the last few ingredients closer. When they came back to her, she finished the dish, then pulled out the pre-baked version and sliced a piece. From the sound booth he was unable to smell the food, but the look of it alone—not to mention the memory of how delicious it had been the previous weekend—made him eager to taste it. He was impressed as always by her calm friendliness on camera, the way she rarely stumbled over her words or showed the least discomfort.
She was made for television.
Finally the entire show wrapped up and he was allowed back on the stage. She pulled the second pan out of the oven and dished it up for the rest of the crew. When Danny reached her, she looked over and smiled. “I’ve been saving some for you.”
“Good. It smells terrific.”
“And it tastes as great.” She handed him a sample before turning to take care of a few other crew members.
Another half hour passed as she finished clean up, and he lent a hand where he could. When he finally walked her out of the building, he wondered why he hadn’t realized how much work her cooking segment was. It was amazing she managed to keep up with the schedule. “You do that every day?”
“Yep. It can get a bit crazy, and searching for different recipes five days a week is a challenge, but I enjoy it.”
He nodded. “It’s easier to do a challenging job you enjoy than an easy one you hate.”
“Isn’t that the truth!”
He walked her to her car and leaned one hip against the hood. “So is there anything I can do to help with your search?”
She swallowed hard as she met his gaze. “Not right now. Actually, I’m still trying to figure out where to start. Hospital records are private, so how do I find out about the other girls born that day? I don’t want to alert anyone to what happened until I know how I’m going to deal with it. I’m not sure if there’s any other way, though.”
He thought for a long moment, considering and rejecting several ideas until his thoughts snagged on something that might be useful. “What about birth announcements in the paper.”
“Birth announcements?” Her brow furrowed. “I suppose one or two may have paid for an ad.”
“No, I mean the bare-bones listings hospitals used to put in the papers. ‘Baby girl to Joe and Jane Smith of Olathe.’ ” He remembered seeing one of those for his cousin’s baby before the privacy laws changed.
She clearly hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, I could check to see if the hospital did those. I can’t remember how much information was in them, but it’s a good place to start. If I can find any listings.”
“Where were you born?”
“Here in Kansas City, on the Kansas side. St. Mark’s Hospital.” Tia checked her watch. “I need to pick up Tristi from daycare, and I have some errands to run before Samantha gets out of school.”
He wanted a few more minutes alone with her, but conceded. “All right, then. How about if I come over for dinner and afterward we can search online?”
She tilted her head and a light furrow developed between her brows. “Are you
serious? Why would you want to get mixed up in this?”
He picked up a lock of her wild hair and curled the silkiness around his finger. “I told you, I want to get to know you better.” He smiled as a sweet ache entered his chest. “Besides, my best friend long ago told me I have a white knight complex. I can’t seem to help myself.” He missed Laura.
Tia looked amused. “You do know I’m not a damsel in distress. I can take care of this alone.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to.” He released her hair with reluctance and moved back. “I like how you’re strong and independent. Oh, and did I mention beautiful? It’s a killer combination.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “I can’t quite figure you out.”
“Another reason to spend more time together.” Though he didn’t want to leave her, he knew he needed to let her go. “But it will have to wait until this evening. I’ll see what I can find out online before we meet.” He shifted out of the way so she could open her car door.
“Six o’clock,” she told him.
“I’ll be there.”
Thirteen
Tia checked the chicken enchiladas in the oven and nodded in satisfaction. They smelled good—now she hoped they tasted as good as she thought they would. The trials of testing new recipes weren’t limited to anaphylaxis—adding the wrong ingredient or too much of it while trying a new twist was a very real possibility. Thankfully she did that far less often now that she had more experience. She glanced back at the bubbling butter in a pan and began whisking in flour to make a roux.
The doorbell rang and she glanced at the stove clock. “Right on time.” She liked that about Danny. Promptness was a big plus in her book.
“I’ll get it!” Samantha called as she ran down the hall and stormed the front door. There wasn’t a direct line of sight to the door from the kitchen, but Tia heard the locks snick and the door squeak slightly as it opened. “Danny!”
“Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?”
“Great. Mom made enchiladas.” Her voice dropped slightly in decibels, but was still clearly audible, “It smells good, so maybe it won’t be yucky!”
“Samantha!” Tia called out, only mildly scandalized by her daughter’s pronouncement. She was getting used to being embarrassed by similar comments.
“Mom, it’s true! Oh, those are pretty.”
“Don’t worry; I have a much more sophisticated pallet than the average six-year-old.” Danny said as he entered the kitchen, holding a bouquet of bright wildflowers. He glanced at them. “I saw these and thought of you.”
“Oh, you are a charmer.” Tia wasn’t sure how to feel about it, but it seemed he had no plans to go away, and she liked him too much to shut him out.
“I try.” He handed the bouquet to Samantha and asked her, “Have you got a vase around here?”
“Yes. In the cupboard.” She pointed to the tiny one above the fridge—the safest place in the house for breakables, since neither girl could reach it. Danny, however, had no trouble at all. He didn’t need Tia’s step-stool, or even to go up on his toes.
Tia watched his jeans stretch across his perfect backside, bit her lip, and turned away. Was she attracted? Oh yeah. Times ten. Was it a good idea to let him get close? The jury was still out, but she decided to take her chances. After she added the rest of the ingredients and turned off the heat, she turned back to where he was cutting the stems and putting them into the vase of water. “Where did you learn to do that?”
He smiled at the flowers, a far-away look coming into his eyes. “My second mother—my friend’s mother—always made Laura and I help her in the garden, then trim back the stems and make bouquets for her to take to her church group or to people in the neighborhood who needed a bit of cheer.”
“And you didn’t duck out of it?” The thought made her feel all warm and gooey inside.
“I tried. She wouldn’t let me.” He set the last stem in the vase and fiddled with them a little. Obviously he didn’t have any natural talent for arranging them, but it was sweet anyway. “She said it would impress girls someday.” He glanced up at Tia. “Was she telling the truth?”
“You appear to have gotten a pretty thorough education in impressing females.” Should she be more coy? Less coy? Tia didn’t know; it had been too long since she’d played the dating game.
“I like ‘em!’ Samantha grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the living room. “Come play fire station with me.”
When he looked at Tia for confirmation, she waved him away. “Go ahead. I’ll put this in the oven when the other is done in a few minutes, and then we can sit down to eat.”
He winked as Samantha pulled him from the room.
* * *
After they’d eaten and all the dishes were washed and put away, Tia sent Samantha to change into pajamas and brush her teeth. Though she grumbled, Samantha followed orders. Once she was out of the way, Tia turned back to Danny. “So did you find anything this afternoon?”
“I made a few calls and found out which paper used to run birth announcements from St. Mark’s Hospital twenty-seven years ago. They don’t have any of those papers archived online, however, so we’ll have to dig through their hard copies. It could take a few hours to find the listing, and then you’ll have to start researching the families. I have no idea how many babies were born there each day then. Hopefully there will only be a few options.”
“The thought of trying to find someone all of these years later is overwhelming.” Tia still wasn’t sure if she wanted all the answers.
He took her hand in his, toying with her fingers. “I know. There’s no rush, though. You have plenty of time to poke around and see what’s out there.”
“Which is good, since I don’t know what I want to do about it. I’m going to do the research, but do I mess up their lives by telling them what happened?” She sighed, already weary of the confusion. “Do I owe them the truth, or will it do more harm than good?”
“I’m sure you’ll make the right choice when the time comes.” His voice was low and soothing, lending strength and conviction.
“Thanks.” She wasn’t certain why she was talking to him about all of this—how had he wormed his way into it, anyway?
“I don’t go back into work until Friday,” he said. “If you’d like an extra set of eyes, I’d be happy to go along with you.”
Tia had mixed feelings about his offer. “I should be able to handle it myself. I’ll have to rearrange my schedule to get over there and I don’t know when I’ll make it.”
“All right.” He ran his thumb along her knuckles, raising goosebumps on her arm. “Open invitation, though. Let me know if you need anything.”
After he left, she thought she might take him up on his offer. If she needed anything.
Fourteen
It was the following week before Tia was able to squeeze in time to go to the newspaper office. She dropped Tristi off at daycare a couple of hours early and had her ingredients prepped the night before so she could take more time if she needed to.
She arrived at the newspaper and a young blonde led her through the busy newsroom and back to archives—a room smaller than some people’s closets—full of huge books holding every newspaper the company had ever printed. Tia looked at the shelves and shelves of books and hoped they were filed chronologically. It took several minutes of poking around before they found the book that started shortly before she was born.
Tia flipped through the pages to her birth date and studied the headlines. It was interesting to learn what was going on in the area and in the country on that day. After finishing the paper, she leaned back and settled in for the duration, knowing the right issue might be dated weeks later.
“What are you looking for, exactly?” the young woman asked.
“Birth announcements. I’m told they used to run them periodically.” Tia paused when she came across a big section of announcements listed by hospital, organized by date, and comprised solely of the baby’s gender,
followed by the parents’ names and city. Unfortunately, her hospital was not listed.
“Why do you want to know how many babies were born twenty-seven years ago?”
“It’s research.” Tia continued onward through the pages.
“Like for a book or an article?”
“Something like that.” No need to be too forthcoming just to satisfy the girl’s curiosity. The banal chatter was irritating, and Tia wasn’t finding what she needed, which only irritated her more.
“You know, you look familiar.”
“I have one of those faces.”
“But I could swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Tia fought the urge to roll her eyes, “Probably on TV. I work for PGRE news.” She flipped the newssheet and scanned the next page, then flipped again.
“Really? Oh my! I’d love to get into television news! I totally took a double major in journalism and theater. I’m an intern here, because it’s so hard to get an internship at a television station, and—wow! I can’t believe I’m meeting a real television news reporter!” the intern gushed, perky enthusiasm in every word.
Tia wanted to smack her forehead on the table, anything to get the young woman to shut up. “I’m not actually a reporter.”
“Oh, well, quit being so humble. I remember you now. Didn’t you report about the big drug bust a few weeks ago?” She continued prattling on while Tia wondered if she would get a chance to refute the woman’s words.
In the meantime, Tia didn’t take her eyes from the newspapers in front of her. She finished the book and closed it. “Can you show me the next one?”
“What?” the intern stopped mid-stream. “Oh, yeah. Here, let me put this away.” She lugged the book over to the shelf where it had been before, and muscled out the volume next to it. It hit the table with a thud, and to her relief, the dates on the cover were right.
The Switch Page 8
