The Diaper Diaries

by Abby Gaines

  Her voice was so soft, Tyler had to strain to hear the words. He grunted sour disapproval. “I can’t believe you think a rhyme about juvenile delinquency and child abuse is fit for a baby’s ears.”

  “Shut up,” she said with an anger that shocked him.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  BETHANY DECIDED they shouldn’t take Ben with them to see his mother. Having him there could make the meeting too emotional. Tyler was in full agreement.

  When she thought about the options available to Ben and his mom, none of them included Bethany having any ongoing responsibility for the little boy. Nor Tyler. Though Tyler hadn’t yet told social services about the woman coming forward. Inevitably, she would be investigated, possibly charged by the police. If she loved Ben and could look after him, if her abandonment had been a moment’s desperation, prison would be a terrible outcome. Tyler might need to offer his lawyer’s assistance to keep mother and baby together.Bethany wished she could feel happier for Ben as they walked up the path of the shabby but clean white clapboard house in Clayton County.

  The woman who answered the doorbell was older than Bethany expected. Tall, skinny—as she’d appeared in the security footage—with a child Bethany judged to be about two years old perched on her hip.

  “Alice James?” Tyler said.

  She looked eagerly past Bethany and Tyler. “Where’s Davey?”

  That must be Ben’s real name.

  Tyler introduced himself and Bethany. He said with that charming smile that could sell sand to a Bedouin, “Before we return your son to you, we want to be sure you have everything you need to look after him.” Bethany assumed he hadn’t mentioned the inevitable involvement of the authorities in this process because he didn’t want to alarm her.

  She looked suspicious. “He’s my baby, he should be here with me.”

  “Ms. James, we need to understand why you left Ben, and how your circumstances have changed so that you now feel able to have him back,” Bethany said.

  Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes. “I’ll never forgive myself for leaving my baby.” She buried her face against the toddler’s neck.

  Tyler put an arm across her shoulders and shepherded her inside. As they followed her down a hallway that smelled of boiled vegetables, Bethany glanced up at Tyler. He was frowning, his eyes on Ben’s mother’s back. Alice led them into a small living room, furnished with a worn green couch, a set of nested tables and not much else. In a corner, two more children, identical twins, were playing. Bethany judged them to be around four years old.

  They sat on the couch, and Bethany invited the woman to talk about her family. Seemed there was no man around, and Alice, understandably, was too busy looking after the kids to go out to work.

  “Tell us about…Davey,” Tyler said.

  She drew a deep breath. “He was born October fifteenth.” That fit with Bethany’s conclusions about Ben’s age. “I had him here at home, with the midwife. It all went very easily. I’m used to it.” She sniffed. “He was a lovely baby, right from the start. Quiet, not a screamer like my other kids.” She picked up a piece of paper from the topmost of the nested tables. “Here’s his birth certificate.”

  Bethany scanned the document. Davey Dwayne James, born October fifteenth to Alice Catherine James. Father: Joseph Stanners. Bethany wondered if Mr. Stanners knew he had a child.

  “I’m on my own, and it all got too much.” Alice’s voice wobbled. “The kids had ear infections, they were all so sick, I couldn’t cope. I thought, why am I doing this, when I’m such a bad mother? I saw a couple of articles about you in the newspaper—” she nodded to Tyler “—and you seemed so nice, I thought you’d be a good person to have Davey.”

  That lamentable piece of logic aside, Bethany found herself feeling sorry for the woman.

  His eyes fixed on Alice, Tyler said, “Tell us about the day you left him at my office.”

  She buried her face in her hands. “I asked my neighbor to look after the other kids—she was rude about it, she always is, but she said she’d mind them for a couple of hours. I put Davey in the bag—”

  “What color was the bag?” Tyler asked.

  Bethany stared at him. Surely he didn’t doubt the poor woman’s story?

  Alice blinked. “Green. It was one I had from high school. It’s all faded from the sun.”

  “What were you wearing that day?”

  Alice described her clothing, which matched what they’d seen on the security tape. “I was afraid someone would recognize my scarf, so I threw that and the hat away.” She fixed him with an accusing look. “Don’t you believe I’m Davey’s mother?”

  Tyler hesitated. “We were expecting someone younger.”

  That started her crying again. “I’m only twenty-six, but I look ten years older and that’s because of all these kids.”

  “You don’t look a day over twenty-five,” Tyler said politely.

  Alice managed a watery smile.

  Then he said, “You must be proud of your kids, they’re all so cute.”

  That dried Alice’s eyes. He continued, “But while I may be biased, I think Davey’s the cutest of the lot.” He turned to Bethany. “We’re really going to miss the little guy, aren’t we, hon?” He clamped a hand down on her knee, gave it a shake.

  Hon? And what was with the knee groping? His eyes were steely, so she didn’t argue. “We sure are.”

  “I can’t wait to have him home,” Alice confessed. “I’ve missed him so much.”

  “He’s adorable,” Tyler said. “He’s going to have hair like yours.”

  Alice touched a hand to her wavy blond locks, thin like the rest of her. “I think you’re right.”

  Tyler studied her face. “He has your eyes, too.” The other woman flushed.

  “He’s all-round a great kid,” Tyler said. “You can already tell he’s got so much personality, that birthmark is never going to bother him.” He squeezed Bethany’s knee, choking the question she would have blurted.

  “N-no,” Alice agreed uncertainly. “I guess not.”

  “I mean, right now it’s pretty big,” Tyler said. “But hardly anyone gets to see his chest, and we’re so used to it already, we barely notice it.” He turned to Bethany. “You’re pretty sure it’s going to fade, right, hon?”

  “I—yes.” Bethany dredged her memories of medical school. “Most strawberry birthmarks disappear by the time the child is ten years old.”

  “Did the doctors say much about it to you?” Tyler asked Alice.

  The woman had turned white. “I haven’t taken him to a doctor yet.”

  Bethany let slip a cry of shock. Tyler stood, tugged her to her feet. “I don’t know what your game is, Ms. James, but I know for sure you’re not that baby’s mother.”

  Alice clutched the hem of Tyler’s jacket. “I knew he doesn’t have a birthmark, you had me confused. Please,” she said as she began to cry, “I was a surrogate for another couple, I gave my Davey away. But I can’t stop thinking about him, I need him. I need a baby.”

  BETHANY WEPT on the way home. The tears started as a trickle of moisture and overflowed into a river.

  “How did you know?” she sobbed to Tyler after he’d gotten off his cell phone from the police and social services. He’d also acted on what seemed a very natural instinct after what they’d just been through, and called his mom to check that Ben was okay.He kept his eyes on the road. “It was her shoulders.”

  Bethany stared at him, confused.

  “She had broader shoulders than the woman on the tape,” he said.

  “You remember that?”

  “When it comes to women’s figures, I have excellent recall.” He was half joking, but Bethany couldn’t summon a smile.

  “I can’t believe someone would try that. I can’t believe I believed her.”

  “If anyone else turns up, we’ll insist on DNA tests.”

  She reached over, put her hand over his on the steering wheel. “Tyler, I can’t thank you e
nough.”

  He glanced briefly at her. “If we hadn’t figured it out, social services would have. I didn’t want to lose Ben, so I was looking for obstacles. I lucked out big-time.”

  Bethany wasn’t so sure social services would have seen through the woman. But she focused on his other words. “You didn’t want Ben to leave?”

  He ignored her. “Bethany, things aren’t going well between you and me—” understatement of the decade “—but for Ben’s sake, please don’t quit before we find his real mom.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “I’m sick at the thought of how vulnerable he is. I don’t trust anyone else to look after him. Apart from me and you.”

  He pulled in to his mother’s driveway, and Bethany breathed easier knowing Ben was safe just a few yards away.

  “What if we don’t find his mom anytime soon?” she asked. “I can’t stay forever.”

  He switched off the engine. “I don’t know, I can’t think that far ahead right now.” He ran a hand down his face. “Bethany, please, just…stay.”

  He only wanted her for Ben.

  “I’ll stay,” she said.

  BETHANY AND TYLER fell into an uneasy truce. It was hard for Bethany to remain spitting mad at him after he’d saved Ben from that woman.

  Ben thrived in blissful ignorance of his narrow escape; Tyler went to work as normal, though he phoned several times each day to check on Ben. Bethany started applying for jobs.She should be talking to other research teams, submitting applications to funding organizations, but she was so tired of talking, thinking, living kidney research that she couldn’t face it. She told herself she’d find a six-month hospital contract, then revisit the research options. But some of the jobs she applied for were permanent positions.

  SOMETHING’S WRONG with Ben. Bethany sat bolt upright in bed. The clock on her nightstand said six forty-five; it was Monday morning. She threw the covers aside, raced out of her room—and bumped right into Tyler.

  “Did you get up to see to Ben in the night?” he demanded.“No, did you?” Without waiting for a reply, she charged down the hall. Tyler was on her heels, and when she came to a stop in the nursery doorway, he bumped into her. He steadied her with his hands on his shoulders.

  They both stared at Ben, lying there with his eyes closed, his thumb in his mouth, his cheeks moving rhythmically as he sucked.

  “He’s asleep.” Tyler whispered the obvious.

  “He slept through the night,” Bethany murmured. “The first time.”

  By unspoken mutual agreement, they backed out of the doorway.

  Now Bethany realized she was wearing only her skimpy MCG T-shirt. Tyler had noticed too, and his eyes darkened as he stared down at her.

  “Bethany.” He reached out, smoothed her tousled hair.

  She stepped back. “Don’t,” she said. “Not unless you’re going to say something I want to hear.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment. Downstairs, the phone rang. “I’ll get that,” he said.

  Bethany went to put on her robe before she headed downstairs to make coffee. Tyler was in the kitchen, talking on the phone. It seemed to her he was standing at attention.

  He listened for the next few minutes, occasionally agreeing with whoever he was talking to, sometimes asking brief questions such as, “How soon?” and “When will you announce it?” At one stage he said, “Sir, I’m honored.” The call ended with thanks on Tyler’s part.

  He was grinning from ear to ear as he said to Bethany, “That was the secretary of health and human services, calling on his way to catch a flight to London. Looks like I have a new job.”

  She listened, first in bemusement, then in growing outrage as he told her about a think tank in Washington, D.C., set up to help families. Tyler had been invited to chair it, and it was obvious the invitation wasn’t a surprise.

  “You knew you were up for the job.” She interrupted his monologue.

  “I heard a rumor,” he corrected. He poured coffee into two mugs, pushed one across the island to her.

  Bethany ignored it. “That’s why you wanted to keep Ben, why you did all those interviews. Ben gave you a positive association with parents and kids.”

  Tyler stirred sugar into his coffee, said nothing.

  “None of those interviews were to help the foundation,” she said. “They were all about you. Only you.”

  “They did help the foundation,” he said coolly.

  Her lip curled. “Will you move to Washington?”

  “It’s a full-time job.”

  “Who’ll run the foundation?”

  “The foundation was never going to be the rest of my life,” he said. “I have several very competent executives, one of them will step up to the plate.”

  “But you’re the best.” She knew that now.

  He shrugged.

  “You used Ben,” Bethany said. “And now you’re abandoning him and the foundation.”

  “I’ll admit I did keep Ben at first because of the job,” he said. “But I’ve grown very fond of him. I won’t leave before he’s settled, either with his mom or a long-term foster placement.”

  She snorted.

  His eyes narrowed. “You can’t talk about using Ben. You used him to get to me.”

  “I cared about him from the start.”

  “Really?” He launched a hard, accusing look at her. “It suited you to look after Ben. If this job had been an obstacle to your precious research, you never would have done it.”

  Tyler knew he was right, and it seemed Bethany did too, because her eyes widened, then she clammed up and stormed out of the room. Good.

  He wandered into the living room, threw himself onto a couch and thought about his new job. He should be thrilled at the prospect.

  But he wasn’t enjoying the moment as much as he should, and that was Bethany’s fault.

  TYLER WAS LATE for work, and since Olivia had a policy of not starting work before him, she had time to attend to some personal correspondence. Such as her astronomical credit-card bills. Three major shopping sprees had resulted in four new pairs of shoes and a beaded evening purse in a shade of purple she wouldn’t be seen carrying. Then there was the Venetian-glass vase to complement her collection, a new dinner set and an antique brass candlestick.

  Silas would hate it all.Good.

  Bad.

  She loved the man. She wasn’t supposed to fall in love with him until she knew he would always put her first, and she could no longer be certain of that. But she loved him anyway. It was going to make life complicated. Much more complicated than she liked it to be.

  Olivia pulled the telephone directory out of her desk and began searching for the numbers she needed.

  With luck, she could make her calls and skip out of the office before Tyler got here.

  STILL REELING from Tyler’s news, Bethany took Ben on a visit to Susan that she’d arranged earlier in the week. But she was in no mood to be sociable, and it seemed Susan hadn’t heard about the D.C. appointment yet, so conversation was difficult. The visit didn’t last long.

  On the way back, she drove past Emory University and it reminded her it had been a while since she’d visited the pediatric kidney patients. Last time she’d visited, Tyler had gone with her.The thought soured in her mouth and she tried to recall some of the more pleasant memories of that day. The pervasive cheerfulness among the kids after Tyler talked to them. The fun they’d had with the nurses afterward. That teenage girl who’d asked if Ben would rather be with his mom, making Tyler aware of how much he would miss Ben when he left.

  Bethany froze. Ahead of her the red light turned green. The driver behind honked his horn. Still, she didn’t move.

  That girl, the teenager…she was Ben’s mother. Her build—her shoulders—fit with the young woman on the video, and she’d been so upset about Ben’s feelings. Not exactly conclusive evidence, Bethany knew, but the hunch she had about this was almost overwhelming.

  Bethany pulled ahead, prompted by the mounting din
behind her. She broke a personal rule by pulling out her cell phone while she was driving to call Tyler.

  “I’ve found Ben’s mother,” she said. “I know it’s her.”

  BETHANY AND TYLER arrived at the hospital at one. Bethany described the girl to the senior receptionist, a woman whom she knew slightly, and asked if she was a regular visitor to the hospital. The girl’s blond dreadlocks were sufficient for the receptionist to identify her.

  “That’ll be Kylie Carter. She visits her mom—Nancy Carter, stomach cancer—every day.”“Is she here now?” Tyler asked.

  The nurse nodded. “She comes while her younger siblings are in school. Ward ten, room 203.”

  When they found the right room, they stopped outside. Bethany said, “I’ll ask her to come out, in case her mom doesn’t know she had a baby.”

  “She may not have,” Tyler said. “This is a very long shot.” He sounded almost as if he hoped Bethany was wrong.

  The girl—Kylie—looked up at Bethany’s entrance. Her face paled, then reddened.

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Carter,” Bethany said to her mother, thin and pale in the bed. “I’m Dr. Bethany Hart, I’d like a word with your daughter.”

  The mother waved weakly. Kylie sprang out of the vinyl visitor’s chair and followed Bethany. When she saw Tyler in the corridor, her shoulders slumped and she burst into tears, looking more like a baby herself than someone who’d given birth.

  Bethany wrapped her arms around the girl. “It’s okay, sweetie, we want to help you.”

  After a minute the storm of tears subsided. Kylie pulled away from Bethany, her shoulders squared in defiance, but her limbs trembling. “Wh-where’s my baby?”

  “He’s with my mother,” Tyler said. “Just for a few hours.”