The Switch (8 page)

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.”

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.

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.

“Thanks.” Tia opened the book and began paging through it.

“So what degree did you get?”

“What?” Tia hadn’t been listening.

“In school, to get your reporting job. What degree did you get? And how did you get hired on?”

“I went to The Culinary Center of Kansas City. I do the cooking segment every weekday.” She stopped at yet another list of birth announcements and grinned when she hit pay dirt.

“You’re a cook? You aren’t a news reporter?” Disappointment filled her voice.

“Right.” Tia pulled out her notebook even as she scanned the page to her birth date, then sighed when she found six other couples who had given birth to a girl that day. Seriously? Then, only remembering her mother had stated she was born in the middle of the night, and not remembering what time, she wrote down the parents who were listed for the day before and the day after. Fourteen possible names, but some of them would be eliminated, most likely, depending on when she was born.

“So how did you get the job?” The intern eyed her warily.

“I applied and got a lucky break.” Tia snapped her notebook shut. “Thanks for your help.” As she left, her mind buzzed with everything she needed to do, the searches she would have to make. Would any of these people still live in the area? And how many duplicate names would she have to pick through?

Tia wasn’t even out to her car before she speed dialed her mother.

“Hey, Mom, what time of day was I born?”

When she got off the phone a few minutes later, she crossed all of the births the day after hers off the list. Down to ten.

A few hours later Tia answered the phone to find Danny on the line. “That was a nice mention of our cook-off today,” he said after they exchanged greetings.

“I’m glad you liked it. Did it bring any attention? Any sign-ups? My boss loved the idea of featuring the winner and their recipe on the show.” She pulled into the parking lot at Samantha’s school. Sometimes she thought she didn’t do anything but cook and chase kids all day.

“About ten more teams signed up. We now have eighteen.”

“Great! I had the web gal add a note about it on the web page where they feature my recipes. It’ll run until the competition. The station is behind you guys, one-hundred percent!”

“And we appreciate it.” There was a small pause. “I wondered if I could take you out to say thank you.”

“I know Samantha would love to see you again,” Tia maneuvered into a prime spot and did a little dance in her seat at the location. Her mind was still half on her search and what lay ahead of her.

“Actually, I meant just you.”

Tia turned her full attention on him as she processed what he’d said. Though she was cautious, she also felt a little trill of excitement at his invitation. “You mean like a date?”

“Yes, exactly like a date. I thought you might talk Nichole into taking the girls for a couple of hours. We can grab some dinner where the conversation doesn’t revolve around what the other kids did on the playground.”

“I thought you liked my girls.” Had his interest in them been feigned? Had they been obnoxious? Samantha did have a habit of monopolizing him.

“I do like them. Samantha has me completely wrapped around her finger and Tristi’s a joy, but I still want to spend more time alone with their mother.” Loud beeping came over the line and he muttered something. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. Ambulance pager. I’ll call back later. Will you think about it?”

“Yeah. I will.” She sighed as he hung up. There was no question of what she wanted—she wanted to get to know him better. So why was she hesitating? It wasn’t like they hadn’t been alone before. Some of their time together had been very date-like.

She smiled and waved when she caught sight of Samantha barreling toward her car. There would be time to worry about Danny’s invitation later, and she had no good reason not to take a chance with him. She thought the excitement of the relationship might be worth any trouble or struggles it brought her.

* * *

A few days rushed by as Tia tried to keep up with her normal life. Danny called and they set a date for Saturday night. Samantha had dance classes and piano lessons and Tia let the information she’d gathered from her visit to the newspaper collate in her mind before rushing out to do anything with it.

Thursday after the kids went down for bed, Tia turned on her computer and began a search on the other families. She had ten families to research, and she wasn’t sure how much she could find online. She didn’t have any of the names of the other women who were born when she was, so she would have to start with the parents. The question was whether or not she’d be able to narrow down the possibilities. She may come up with multiple couples with the same names, or she might find nothing at all on some of them. If the parents had been divorced like hers, that would add even more difficulties to the search.

The first names were Robert and Janice Monroe. She pulled out a notebook and began taking notes. After an hour she’d verified there were three couples with those names. One couple was too old to be a likely choice, and Janice had passed away the previous year.

Another couple had only boys—according to a short bio on Robert. She couldn’t completely rule them out. If their daughter had died young, she wasn’t likely to be mentioned in the bio. The third one actually brought up a family picture—they and their two children all had very dark hair, and shared a remarkable family resemblance. With a little more digging she was able to find the names of the daughters. An hour later she verified one of them was born in Kansas City the same year as Tia.

Though she couldn’t cross the other names off the list entirely, she put a note next to the family’s info, marked them as unlikely swaps, and closed up for the night.

* * *

“So how’s the search going?” Danny asked Tia as they sat across from each other in the Mexican restaurant. He had started to wonder if he’d ever get her there, between haggling over a night they could both go, and the list of do’s and don’t’s for the babysitter.

“Slow.” Tia dipped a tortilla chip into the salsa in front of her, playing with it. “I’ve researched a couple names. I’m fairly certain I found the right family for the Monroes, but the Ibsons are more elusive.”

“It’s not easy, is it?”

“No. I hadn’t thought of all the MySpace and Facebook accounts I’d have to sort through. Then there are the death notices, news articles, and school athletics scores.” She ate the chip and swallowed before going on. “Every name has to be followed until I verify whether or not they could possibly be right. Thankfully Ibson isn’t very common, but I still can’t pin down one group of names as the most likely family.”

“You need some help?”

“If I had some idea what I was going to do once I found the answers, I’d be in a hurry to find them.” She shrugged apologetically. “Since I don’t, I’ll handle it myself for a little longer.”

He took her hand, stopping it halfway to the bowl of chips so he could get her full attention. “You know I’m happy to help if you’d like some company.” She looked tired, vulnerable, and as usual, his instinct was to comfort.

“I appreciate the offer. Really.” She turned her hand over in his and gave it a squeeze. “Mostly I’m glad to have someone to talk to who isn’t going to freak out on me.”

He threaded their fingers together, loving how soft her skin was. “Are your parents making things difficult?”

Tia sighed. “My dad’s trying to be understanding and supportive. Whatever happens, I’m sure things between us will work out fine in the end. My mom is another issue. She’s always been high strung and demanding, but is making an art form out of it now.”

He chuckled. “I know people like that. I’m sure she’s uncertain of her place in your life now. Stand by her and eventually she’ll stop freaking out.”

“Easy for you to say.” She used her free hand to pick up another chip. “And then there’s my brother, Wes. I still haven’t talked to him about everything, but he didn’t seem amazed about the reason for the divorce or that I might not have been my father’s child. He was so detached. I’m not sure if he doesn’t care, or if he’s trying to protect himself.”

Danny squeezed her hand, sensing she just needed him to listen. A few seconds passed before he brought up the other issue plaguing him. “Do you mind if I ask what happened to your husband? Tristi’s not very old.”

The frustration in her eyes melted into sadness. “I got pregnant just before he shipped out. I didn’t even know until after he left.” She brushed the hair back from her face, and kept her eyes glued to the food in front of them. “It’s been nearly two years since he was killed in Afghanistan. A car bomb went off as he and some of the other soldiers walked past. He was the only American death, but five Afghanis died in the blast as well. I heard about the bombing on television the day before the military caught up with me.” She wet her lips.

“It must have been an awful couple of years.”

“It’s been tough.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze.
 
“But things are going well for me. It’s not easy being a single parent, but my girls are pretty good and I have Nichole to help out and talk with. Lee’s family’s been great, as well. They love the girls and make every effort to spend time with them.”

“That’s good. We all need support when we lose a loved one.” He felt his throat close off and heard his voice go husky on the end of his statement. He had not planned to bring Laura up, and hoped Tia didn’t comment on what he’d said.

She must have noticed, because she looked up at him as the server brought their meals. “Are you speaking from personal experience, then?”

Danny waited until the waitress left. “It’s not the same, but I’m sure you heard about the bus crash a couple months back.”

“The women’s retreat?” Though it was a question, Tia nodded in acknowledgement. “It would be hard to miss considering where I work.”

“Of course.” Danny tried to smile, but knew he failed miserably. “One of my childhood friends was on the bus.” He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the lump in it. “She didn’t make it home.”

Sympathy softened her expression. “Were you close?”

“The closest. She’d been over to my place for dinner only days before the accident. We’d made plans to go home and see our parents—our moms were both hassling us about not visiting often enough.” And now it was too late for her to visit her family.

Tia squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” But he couldn’t talk about it right now without getting too emotional, so he pushed back the pain. “Now, maybe we should both eat, and find an easier subject.”

She smiled and withdrew her hand. “Okay. Do you suppose they have any hot sauce around here?”

Danny thought it was precisely the sort of question Laura would have asked. He smiled and motioned to the waitress to request a bottle.