Where is the Baby? (29 page)

Faith kissed the baby's cheek and forehead, then held her close again as she uttered shushing sounds against her ear. At last, Faith lifted her into the waiting woman's outstretched arms.

Without another word, the woman turned and carried the still crying baby away. Brian quietly closed the door after her.

‘Brian, that was terrible.'

‘Close up shop for the day, honey, and go home. We'll talk later.' He opened the door again and, nodding dumbly, Faith followed him into the hall where she stopped and watched him go out the door. She stood for what felt like a long time, until she realized the staff were all watching her, waiting for some sort of signal.

Pulling herself together, she said to Liz, ‘Cancel the rest of the appointments, please, and rebook them, then send all the patients home. Refer any emergencies to Dr DeCastro and leave an emergency notice on the answering machine. I'm going home. I'll be back in the morning and will explain then what just happened. Thank you all . . .' She couldn't get another word out and went to her office where she dumped her lab coat, grabbed her bag and started for the door, her leg throbbing.

Fran came out from behind the reception desk and went out to the parking lot with Faith, where she stopped in front of her and looked deeply into her eyes. ‘I want you to know you're my hero,' Fran said. ‘It's an honor to work with you, to know you. What you just did . . .' She shook her head wonderingly. ‘As I said, you're my hero.' She hugged Faith, then said, ‘Go home, have yourself a drink and get some rest. We'll see you in the morning.'

Faith returned the hug, gave her a watery smile, then went to her car where she sat staring into space for several minutes, her attention divided between the pain pulsing in her leg and what had just occurred. At last, she turned the ignition key, reversed out of the lot and started for home.

F
aith was running a little late; her schedule had been thrown off track by a toddler's need for some sutures to a fairly deep cut on the palm of his hand as a result of a playground fall on a piece of broken glass which, all agreed, shouldn't have been there. The mother was on the verge of hysteria, wringing her hands and barely able to sit still, but the boy was composed, watching every step of the procedure with fascination.

‘You might just have a future doctor here,' she told the anxious mother as Faith snipped the thread and applied a bandage. ‘Keep this covered and try not to get it wet for the next forty-eight hours. Apply antibiotic ointment twice a day, and after the first forty-eight hours, it'll be safe to get it wet. A few days and you can remove the bandage. Bring him back in two weeks and we'll remove the sutures.'

Lifting the child from the examining console, she squatted down to be eye-to-eye with him and said, ‘You're a superstar, Cole,' at which the boy beamed. He was one of her regular patients, a lovely child.

‘Yeah!' Grinning, he gave her a high five.

‘Take good care of your hand, okay, Cole? If your bandage gets dirty, ask mama to change it. Okay?'

‘'Kay.'

‘See you in two weeks,' she said, rising.

‘Yeah!' he said again, still beaming as his mother, so distraught she couldn't speak, took hold of his other hand and led him out.

Now, Faith had to concentrate on not speeding. She hated being late for anything. And being late today was unacceptable. Nervous and excited, her hands were slick on the wheel. Luckily, being late meant the traffic flowed well on Route 7 and she made good time up to Kent.

There were a lot of cars parked out front but a spot had been left for her in the driveway. She took a quick appreciative glance at the exquisite garden, checked once again that the documents were in her bag, then hurried out of the car, up the stairs and across the porch. Music and giddy-sounding conversation flowed from the open windows. Utterly elated, Faith pushed open the screen door and gazed at the crowd assembled inside.

Everyone she loved was present: Brian and Lucia, Captain Garvey, Connie and Stefan, Tally and Hay, Tyler and Mae, and Fran from the office.

Catching sight of Faith in the doorway, Tally scooped up the baby from where she'd been sitting on the floor with Hay and Lucia, and came dancing across the room as those gathered went silent with expectation. ‘Look,' Tally said to the baby. ‘Who's here?'

‘Mama!' the baby declared in her surprising low voice, holding her arms out to Faith.

Tally gave Faith a kiss and a one-armed hug as she passed over the baby. ‘We were starting to get a bit worried,' she said quietly, touching her hand to Faith's cheek.

‘We had a toddler emergency. Sorry.'

‘Hush. No need to apologize. We're all just glad you're here.'

‘I love you, Tally.' Faith absorbed the woman's beauty, marveling as always that they'd been lucky enough to find each other.

‘Love you, too, sweetheart. You've given me back most of what I lost in my life.'

Hay came over to say, ‘Food's about ready,' and leaned in to whisper. ‘Little Miss ate some solid food today. A bowl of stuff that smelled like a houseful of bad plumbing.'

Faith roared with laughter and stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his smooth-shaven cheek. ‘Hilarious,' she said, thinking as always how much younger he looked without the beard. ‘When did you become so funny?'

‘Probably around the same time I had to start finding ways to entertain Little Miss.'

‘I love it!'

‘How could you not?' he said wryly. And she had to wonder at the people they'd all become, suddenly filled with a euphoric sense of homecoming. For the first time in her life, she had more answers than questions.

Faith let her bag drop to the floor as she took hold of the baby and swung her up into the air. Then, she lowered her to ride on her hip where the baby immediately began toying with Faith's crystal pendant. She watched the baby for a moment, then looked around at all the smiling faces and said, ‘It's official! Thanks to everyone here – especially Uncle Brian, the clever police chief who got the Feds involved to remove the case from our jurisdiction, and Tally, who was brilliant in her performance as a social worker from DCF – as of three weeks ago we welcomed a brand-new family member into the world. She has a social security number and a birth certificate. She also has an extended family right here in this room: aunts and uncles, Granna Tally and Granpa Hay, and Greatgranpa Tyler. And we have all the paperwork to prove her existence, thanks to Aunt Fran's skills with research and creative form-filling to establish the baby's birth.' She drew a deep breath, considering her wonderful good fortune at having such brave and special people in her life. Then she continued.

‘Our girl's kind of on the tall side for being not yet a month old, but that'll pass. And soon no one will think anything of her size, because thanks to Wonder Bread and food additives or farm-grown fish, or
something
, children are getting bigger every year. I love you all dearly. Thank you for helping me do this and for being who you are.'

Before anyone could react, Tyler said, ‘We all love you, darling girl. And thank you for being who
you
are.'

Spontaneously, everyone applauded.

The baby held very still and looked around, uncertain.

Hay turned down the volume on the stereo and the group began singing ‘Happy Birthday.'

‘It's okay, Gracie.' Faith smiled down at her. ‘It's your birthday party and we're all very happy.'

The baby's hand released the pendant and started waving to the music. Then, she sang, ‘Ha-me!' head bobbing, body bouncing up and down. ‘Ha-me.'

Many thanks to the following librarians in Connecticut: the reference desk in Darien; Judy Riva, Susanna Violino and Vicky Lucarelli in Norwalk, and Anne Killheffer in Stratford. These women were incredibly helpful in tracking down a number of rare articles that pertained to the 1982 kidnapping of a two-year-old – a case that haunted me for years and ultimately inspired the creation of Humaby/Faith.

The second case involved the daughter of a dear friend who spent a number of years in prison for second-degree murder in the death of her six-week-old son. I embellished the tale and altered it but, again, I was haunted by the case which led to the creation of Tally.

My thanks to Randall Toye. His enthusiasm for the early manuscript encouraged me to keep on with it. And finally I am grateful to Duke Fenady and Nina Ring Aamundsen who each read the manuscript in the editing stage and gave much-needed and most welcome feedback.

New York Times
bestselling author Charlotte Vale-Allen worked (among other things) as a sales person, a waitress, a secretary, an insurance broker, and as an actress and singer before turning to writing full-time with the publication of her first novel
Love Life
in 1976. Born in Toronto, Canada, Vale-Allen moved to the U.S. in 1966. The mother of an adult daughter and grandmother of twins, she has lived in Connecticut since 1970. Her award-winning autobiography (and only non-fiction work)
Daddy's Girl
is in its third edition, after more than thirty printings. Please visit the author's website at:
www.charlottevaleallen.com