“Oh, my.” She wandered across the pantry and settled into a metal chair tucked behind a table. Jason followed and sat on the floor beside her.
“She had a lot of hair,” he said, pointing to Meghan’s newborn picture.
“I didn’t know.”
“Here she is at six months, sitting up like a champ.”
She glanced down at the chubby baby with her hands spread out wide and two bottom teeth showing in an otherwise gummy smile. Her hair was dark and wispy, and her eyes were big and bright. Darla traced her finger over the fat rolls of her thighs, longing to touch her soft, baby skin.
“She was walking by her first birthday.”
He handed her a picture of Meghan in a pink snowsuit, navigating the snowy sidewalk while Jason held her little hand in his.
Darla’s heart was pounding, and her vision refused to clear. Picture after picture showed a happy little girl with a big smile growing into a young lady. Her hair had darkened each year and grew longer, looking so much like her own childhood photos. When he handed her Meghan’s senior picture, she stopped breathing. If she were to lay their photos side by side, they would be indistinguishable. There was no denying Meghan was her daughter.
“I don’t know what to say.” Darla choked out the words. “She’s lovely.”
“And smart, kind, funny. She’s amazing.”
“You’ve done a great job raising her.”
“Thanks.” Jason smiled at the senior photo with the love of a proud father on his face, then tucked the photos back in his pocket. “Now would you like to meet her?”
“I don’t know.” She pressed her hand to her thumping heart. “What would I say?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean, what would I tell her? She’ll want to know why I gave her up.” Darla pushed away from the table and crossed the room, taking a jar of peanut butter from a carton. Her hands shook as she placed it on a shelf. It was one thing to see her daughter in photos, but it was a completely different animal meeting her in person. This was happening too fast. She wasn’t ready.
“You were young. She would understand.”
“How much does she know about me? What have you told her?”
“I told her you were a real estate agent and you lived in West Virginia. She knows you were fifteen when you had her. That’s all.”
“Has she asked about her father?”
“Surprisingly, no.” Jason left the table and stood beside Darla. “I don’t think she wants to hurt my feelings by asking about him.”
“Good.”
“I’m sure she’ll want to meet him, eventually.”
“No!” Darla stumbled against the shelf and squeezed her eyes shut until they hurt.
“I don’t mean right now.”
She took a deep breath, fighting to control her emotions. Keeping her eyes closed, she said in a steady, but firm, voice, “She can never meet her father. Ever.” She opened her eyes and walked back to the table, placing her hands on the warm wood. “Tell her he died, tell her I don’t know who he is. I don’t care what you tell her, but she can never find out about him.”
“Why? I don’t understand.”
“He’s a horrible human being. She needs to steer clear of him.” Darla rushed from the room, slamming the door on her way out.
***
Jason walked out a side door of the community center onto a beautifully arranged patio with ornate, metal benches on a brick foundation. It was surrounded by a low, stone wall with a fire pit in the center. Of what he’d seen so far, the Highland Springs Community Center was quite an impressive place.
He took a seat on one of the benches and wondered why Darla had rushed from the pantry when they’d been doing so well, having a nice conversation. She’d even seemed interested in Meghan’s pictures. He was ready to discuss a meeting time and place, but when she mentioned Meghan’s father, everything came to a halt. Who was this man who upset Darla so? Why should Meghan steer clear of him? Meghan mostly had asked about her mother, but they both knew she might need to meet her biological father. By Darla’s reaction, he hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
He wished she’d come outside so they could continue their conversation. There was so much more he needed to share with her. He’d promised Meghan he’d find her mother and arrange a meeting. He couldn’t let her down.
Jason stepped off the patio and walked across the dewy grass, breathing in the fresh mountain air.
“Darla around?” Startled, Jason spun around to find a stocky man in dirty jeans and a sleeveless T-shirt that showed off his massively muscled arms.
“She’s…um…she’s inside.”
“And you are?” The man glared at Jason, running his gaze up and down, taking in every inch of him. He was suspicious and protective with his thick hands perched on his hips. Surely this tough guy wasn’t her boyfriend.
“Jason Byrne.” He met the man halfway with his hand outstretched. The bruiser crushed Jason’s hand in his.
“I’m Jamie, her brother. You one of her clients?”
“Not exactly. I’m here to talk to her about—”
“You’re here,” Darla said, letting the side door slam shut. She had changed into her glasses, the thick lens magnifying her red-rimmed eyes. “I told you I’d meet you at the jobsite.”
“You need to approve the shingle choice before I place the order.”
“I know that, but it was my turn to stock the pantry shelves.” She plastered on a bright smile, the same one she wore to hide her nerves, but he saw how her hands quivered. “Did you meet Dr. Byrne?”
“We met. Are you sick?”
“I’m not that kind of doctor.” He stepped onto the patio beside Darla. “I’m in town to—”
“Look at the old Patterson place, over on Chestnut.” Her smile spread while she twisted her hands in knots. “I asked him to meet me here and we could walk over, you know, so I could show him the neighborhood, point out some of the other renovations that folks have done to keep the historic flavor of the community.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Her brother wasn’t buying her sunny speech.
“Nothing. It’s been a busy morning and I need to show Dr. Byrne the property, so if you don’t mind.”
“Fine, I’ll wait until this afternoon.” Without a handshake or a good-bye, Jamie shook his head and stalked around the side of the building.
“What was that all about?”
“I’m sorry I ran out on you. This has all been so overwhelming.”
“Doesn’t your brother know about Meghan?”
“No one knows, except my cousin Patsy.” Darla plopped onto a bench and ran her hand through her thick, silky hair. “I’ve kept it a secret all these years. No one could find out. I never planned to see the baby again.”
She’d made comments like that before, cold and heartless, ones he couldn’t understand.
“I just mean…” She pressed her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “The records were sealed, so I didn’t think it would be possible for her to find me.”
“But you’re not opposed to meeting her?”
“No, but I’m not ready for my friends and family to know about her. There could be repercussions.”
“What kind of repercussions?”
“It’s complicated. Just trust me when I say it would be best to keep this between the two of us.”
“Three of us.”
Darla’s head snapped back. “Three of us.” Instead of shock or anger, she smiled a genuinely warm smile, and the walls she’d kept up slowly crumbled, stone by stone. She seemed to be warming to the idea of having a daughter. He wasn’t quite ready to share Meghan with Darla, but he knew that’s exactly what his daughter wanted.
“Don’t you think it would be hard for Meghan and me to meet? She’s been happy, right? Wouldn’t this just upset her world?”
“You and I can’t possibly understand her feelings. We weren’t adopted. She’s tried to explain it to me
, but even though she’s been loved, she just feels like she’s not complete without knowing her essence. The non-identifying information we found on you didn’t tell her much.”
“The what?”
“It’s the basic information we received from the adoption agency. It only tells general information like the color of your hair, your eye color, your height, and the age when you gave birth. It didn’t help Meghan understand how she ticks—nothing about DNA, hereditary traits, parents’ medical histories, those sorts of things.”
“I’ll be happy to share those things about me with her, but I can’t speak for her father.”
“How about this? Why don’t you tell me about him and I’ll decide if—”
“No.” She jumped from the bench and gripped his arm. “I refuse to tell anyone about him. I’ll meet Meghan, but not if you insist on finding her father.”
“If only you’d explain it to me.”
“She has a father. A good one.” She squeezed his arm, nodding her acknowledgment. “She doesn’t need to bring her biological father, that monster, into her life.”
“But it might be necessary.”
“Absolutely not. She doesn’t need to know him. Trust me on that.”
He laid his hands on her shoulders and dipped down, meeting her gaze. He had to make her understand.
“Listen to me. She needs to meet you and maybe her real father.”
“Why? Give me one good reason?”
“Meghan’s sick, and one of you might be able to help.”
“Sick? How sick?”
“We’re not sure, but it’s serious.”
SEVEN
Jason pulled off the interstate three miles from home. His trip to Highland Springs had been successful, achieving the goal he’d set out to do. Darla and Meghan would meet this weekend. It had taken some convincing and reassurance that he wouldn’t force her to share the name of Meghan’s father. So far, the medication Meghan had been given hadn’t helped her sudden shortness of breath or fainting spells. Her local doctor was stumped as to the source of her illness. If the problem turned out to be a genetic abnormality, knowing both biological parents’ medical histories might hold the key to a cure. Thankfully, he had insurance through the college, but it only covered so much. His savings account had taken a heavy hit lately. More research was required, which was why he so desperately needed to make tenure. He needed the assurance of continued employment, insurance, and a retirement plan.
He parked outside their dark townhouse, expecting Meghan to be home from her job at the sporting goods store by now. Maybe she had gone to Kristin’s house for dinner. Slipping the key inside the lock, he flipped on a light as he entered the house and found a note taped to the coat closet door.
Jason-
Tried to call you but got no answer. Took Meghan by ambulance to the hospital. Call me when you get this.
Karen
Ripping the note from the door, he dropped his overnight bag and rushed back outside to his car. He glanced at the phone screen, finding four calls from Karen, Kristin’s mother, made in the last hour. How had he missed the calls? After checking the phone’s volume, he realized it had been silenced. He smacked his forehead and pealed out of the parking lot.
Twenty minutes later, he ran down the hospital hallway, after being told Meghan’s room number, and skidded to a stop when he saw his daughter’s face covered with an oxygen mask. Karen sat in the corner of the room while a nurse checked Meghan’s IVs. The heart monitor beeped at a slow, steady rhythm in time with the puff and pull of the oxygen machine.
“How is she?”
“Dr. Byrne, I’m glad you’re here.” The nurse, Ellen maybe, finished her assessment and smiled at Jason. Meghan had been on this floor so many times in the past few months, he’d come to know most of the staff on a first-name basis. “She’s resting. We’ve got her stabilized for now.”
Karen joined him bedside and silently laid her hand on his shoulder.
“What happened?”
“She came back to our house early from work and said she didn’t feel well. I was about to start dinner and she doubled over. Couldn’t breathe. So I called the ambulance. I remembered what happened on the softball field last week.”
“You did the right thing.” He squeezed his friend’s hand, reassuring her of the decision to call the paramedics. He should’ve been there.
“The doctor will be back in a few minutes,” Nurse Ellen said. “He’ll answer any questions you may have.”
“Thank you.” Jason leaned over Meghan once the nurse was gone and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Meggy, love, I’m here. You’re going to be okay.” She didn’t flinch or blink, but her heart rate shot up briefly. She could hear him. “I won’t leave your side, honey. You rest now.”
“Have you had dinner?” Karen pulled up a chair and pressed her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to sit. She and her husband, Rob, had been so supportive. Their daughters had been best friends since kindergarten and they were like family.
“No. I’m not hungry.”
She dragged her chair next to his. “There were no warning signs this time. She was fine this morning when she left for school, and she called me on her way to work, full of energy.”
“They said this could happen.”
“I wish I had known. I would’ve called you sooner.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You did everything you could. I just wish my phone wasn’t silenced.”
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
They sat for several moments, neither of them speaking. He held Meghan’s hand in his as he watched the steady blip on the heart monitor and the rise and fall of her lungs. He couldn’t have raised Meghan after Jenny left them without his mother’s help early on and friends like Karen and Rob.
“How did your trip go? Any luck?” They had always known Meghan was adopted and that he’d been searching for her biological mother.
“Darla agreed to meet Meghan this weekend. I invited her to come out on Saturday. I better call her to cancel.”
“It’s only Monday. Meghan could be better by then.”
“Even if she is, meeting her birth mom might take a toll on her, be too much.”
“But the doctors said—”
“I know what the doctors said. There’s no predicting when she’ll have an attack, but if meeting her mother causes a setback—”
“But if she doesn’t meet her mother…” They all feared the worst. Her symptoms had become more severe in the past couple of weeks with still no definitive diagnosis. “She’s been waiting so long. I think it’s time.”
Jason dropped his hold on Meghan and stood up, glancing down at the daughter who was his whole world. He couldn’t lose her. If it was worse than they’d been told, what would he do? He had nothing else but her in his life. Sure there had been times when he dated, even considered finding a wife and mother for Meghan, but he believed he had done the right thing by putting her first in his life. He would continue to put her first, regardless of cancelled classes or tenure consideration. But Karen was right. He’d promised Meghan she’d meet her biological mother. He couldn’t go back on a promise.
“I’ll be right back.” He walked into the hallway, the smell of antiseptic and bleach hanging in the air, and placed a call. Darla answered after two rings.
“Darla Heartwood.”
“It’s Jason.”
Her smile came through the phone. “Did you make it home okay?”
“Meghan’s in the hospital.”
“What?”
“The ambulance brought her here about an hour and a half before I got home. She’s unconscious.”
“Oh, Jason.”
“Could you come sooner? Like tomorrow?”
He checked to make sure they were still connected when Darla’s silence dragged on.
“I think it might help if she knows you’re here.”
“How will she know if she’s unconscious?”
“Hopefully, she’ll regain consciousness soon. Besides, she can hear us talking.”
“Well…” Papers shuffled and pens rattled in the background. How could she focus on work at a time like this? “I have two appointments tomorrow.”
“I shouldn’t have bothered.”
He was about to click off the call when Darla said, “I’ll cancel them and leave within the hour.”
“It can wait until tomorrow.”
“I want to come tonight.”
Jason leaned against the wall, needing the support. Since he met Darla, his opinion of her had gone from cold, workaholic to emotionally unstable to surrender by guilt. Maybe he had her all wrong. She was dropping what she was doing to come now. Her slogan was true. Darla Heartwood did have heart.
***
Stone and shingle colors picked—check. Two listing appointments transferred to another agent—check. Community center board notified of her absence—check. Suitcase packed and in the car—check. It took Darla two hours to get her appointments rescheduled and her commitments postponed, but she promised Jason she would be in Cleveland tonight. She felt sick inside knowing Meghan was lying in a hospital bed, unconscious. She had only seen pictures and heard general things about her, but already she felt love growing for the girl she had given away. Maybe it was an innate trait that a mother would automatically care about her child, no matter what the circumstances or who the father was. The love she was developing for Meghan—maybe always had—certainly had nothing to do with him.
It crushed her knowing Meghan’s adoptive mother had left her so young. What kind of a woman could leave her child? Darla feigned a laugh as she pulled onto the interstate. “The same kind of woman who can give up her own flesh and blood.” Jason’s ex-wife may have had a logical reason for leaving them, but it still hurt knowing Meghan was raised without a mother.
Whatever It Takes: A Highland Springs Romance (Whatever Series Book 4) Page 6
