A Child's Wish

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “You’ll still live with him, too, of course,” she said. The man was an elementary school principal. And he’d cared for Kelsey when Barbie had fallen apart. They’d never take Kelsey away from him completely.

  “But I’d get to see you for real?” Kelsey asked, hope lighting her big, dark eyes.

  “Yep.” Barbie’s heart sped up and a sense of almost euphoric well-being replaced the queasy feeling in her stomach.

  “No more hiding?”

  “Nope.”

  “And Daddy would let me?”

  “That’s the point of the lawyer, honey. It’ll all get worked out so that everyone is satisfied.”

  Or at least Mark would have to pretend to be satisfied.

  “Really?” Her daughter’s doubt tore at Barbie, making her more determined than ever to come through for Kelsey again. Just as she had every single minute for the first five years of her life.

  “Really.”

  Her arms barely caught the little girl as she threw herself against Barbie—a feeling that was so good she could hardly bear to experience it.

  “Oh, Mommy,” Kelsey breathed against her. “I’d love that. I would really, really love that.”

  “Then we’ll make it happen.”

  And Mark Shepherd be damned.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MEREDITH SAT behind the steering wheel of her Mustang, driving calmly. The top was down, and although she knew that she’d never put her top down if this weren’t a dream, she also noticed and enjoyed the breeze against her heated face, her heated body. Why was she so hot? It was March. She shouldn’t be hot. The entire car was hot, almost burning up, but she couldn’t stop to find out why, to help herself. She was being pulled along by speeding traffic that moved faster and faster, the curves on the road becoming sharper. Someone was in the car with her. Her mother. She needed help. Meredith reached out a hand but couldn’t reach her. She was right there next to her, and still she couldn’t reach her. Her hand flew back to the wheel as another curve suddenly appeared. She skated the side of the road, gravel flying, overcompensated and the car tilted slightly as her tires started up the walled embankment on the other side and then returned to the road.

  Past the curve she glanced over at her mother, and a child was there, needing help. The child laughed at her hand, which couldn’t reach… And waited for her to figure it out. Meredith didn’t know what she was supposed to figure out. She meant to ask, but another curve was upon her. More speed. Faster. She was dizzy, could hardly breathe. She was going to crash. Braced herself and knew the absolute horror of imminent death. But first there was a van ahead, on the side of the road. While her car still sped along with her at the wheel, Meredith was somehow also beside the van, staring in the passenger window. Her father was there—alive again. He needed her to help him. She was the only one. He called out to her. His seat was going to explode any second and he couldn’t get out. Meredith got the door open, saw the unfastened seat belt…and fastened it. But the sound of it clicking closed wasn’t the sound of a seat belt. It was the lock on her hotel room door—opening. She stood on the inside, staring as it opened as far as the safety chain would allow. There was another open door in front of her, leading into a room that connected with hers. She knew the people in that room; was there with them. A child stood in the doorway and she tried to speak to him, telling him to call an adult male who was in the bathroom shaving. The child called out, but the adult didn’t hear.

  Fingers slid beneath the hotel room door, and Meredith thought about the bills that normally entered hotel rooms that way. She tried to speak with the child again, but the child couldn’t hear her. He just stood there, glancing into his room as if watching television. Big male fingers appeared around the side of her door, pushing by the chain until a full hand was in her room. The fingers were going to break the chain. She screamed for the adult in the adjoining room, but no sound came out. Her throat was numb, wouldn’t move to make sound. As the lock started to give she screamed again and again, straining her throat until it was raw….

  DARKNESS WAS A RELIEF. Meredith slowly came to an awareness that she was alive. In her bed. In her house. Safe and secure. But she felt neither safe nor secure. Dread filled her, turning her inside out, chafing as it continued to course through her veins. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it—and hear its rapid rhythm in her ears. Her pillow and the back of her gown were soaked with sweat. Hot and cold at the same time, she lay there, opening her eyes and then—fearing the world around her—closing them.

  Her interior world, containing that hand, her father careening to her death, was no comfort. Her eyes snapped open again.

  She had to figure out what it meant. There would be no peace until she knew. Was her soul sending her a message? That could explain some of the dream, but what unresolved issues could she have about her father? He’d been a stern man, but good to her. He’d died of kidney failure ten years ago.

  So had she been, in her relaxed state of sleep, open to someone else’s torture? Or had it just been a crazy nightmare?

  “Meredith?” The small voice startled her, and she gasped. And then she remembered that she wasn’t alone.

  Glancing toward the open door in the moonlight, she could make out the shadow of her pajama-clad houseguest.

  “Kelsey! Come in. What’s wrong, sweetie?” She sat up, turning over her pillow before she propped it and its mate behind her, then patting the top of her down comforter. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  The little girl shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I can’t remember. I just woke up scared and thought I heard you choking.”

  “Yeah, I just woke myself up,” Meredith said, finding a grin and hoping it would precipitate a lightening of the tension inside. “Guess I need a drink.” Reaching for the water bottle she always kept beside her bed, she took a long swallow as Kelsey crawled in beside her.

  “It’s dark and kind of creepy in that other room by myself. Can I stay here with you?” she asked, her feet already beneath the covers.

  “Of course.” Meredith capped the bottle, resisting the urge to pull the little girl into her arms and promise that things that go bump in the night would never harm her.

  Because she knew better.

  “When I was a little girl I used to have really scary dreams sometimes,” Meredith said now, sliding back under the covers herself. “I wasn’t allowed to sleep in my parents’ bed, but I’d sneak into their room and lie down on the floor by my mother’s side and fall asleep. I can still remember the feeling of that shag carpet under my cheek.”

  Kelsey turned her head toward Meredith, her eyes mere dots in the darkness. “Did you have brothers and sisters?”

  “Nope,” Meredith stared at the ceiling and then turned back to the child. “I was an only child, just like you.”

  “Did your mother ever know you were sleeping there?” Kelsey’s childish voice was precious to her, like peace in a turbulent world, solace in the dark of the night.

  “I didn’t think so at the time,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t really sleep all that much because I knew I had to sneak back into my room before she woke up.” The memory was bittersweet. She’d spent much of her childhood afraid. And had rarely understood why. “Several years ago she told me she’d known I was there,” she added now.

  “She had?”

  “Mmm-hmm. But she didn’t say anything because she knew my dad would’ve made me go back to my own room. He was a stickler for rules.”

  “And she wanted you there.” Kelsey’s voice was filled with reverence.

  “Yeah.” Evelyn Foster had been her champion her entire life. It had just taken her a while to figure that out.

  “Girls need moms.”

  The simple statement instantly put Meredith on alert. “Of course they do,” she said, opening her mind to Kelsey completely and waiting to see what she might perceive. “And because moms are important, the world provides us with all kinds of ways to get the
m,” she continued slowly.

  “Like with lawyers?”

  Wishing that the moonlight was brighter and not behind the little girl, Meredith asked, “Why would you say that?”

  “I saw a commercial on TV.”

  Kelsey wasn’t lying. Meredith could feel her sincerity. And something more. But what? She tried to slow down her thinking, to empty out and feel only the little girl beside her, but the residual effects of her dream were still on her mind.

  “For adoptions, you mean?”

  “I dunno. It just said giving kids the parents they need.” She mimicked the last part.

  “Well, that’s one way to do it. But girls who don’t have moms of their own living with them sometimes unofficially adopt their friends’ mothers.”

  “Like Josie’s mom.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But she’s Josie’s, not mine, and it’s not the same. She yells at Josie and teases her, but she’s always really nice to me.”

  Out of the mouths of the children we thought we needed to teach…

  “So adopt a mom of your own.” Maybe not the best thing to say, but it felt right. Susan was there, ready and willing.

  And Meredith had agreed to try and guide the two of them together.

  “Like you?”

  Meredith’s heart ached with the need to slide her arms around Kelsey. “Or someone else,” she said, knowing that to push too much would lose Susan this chance.

  Kelsey turned onto her back, her small features facing the ceiling. “I want you for my special friend, Meredith, and I don’t mean to hurt your feelings but you aren’t a mom.”

  Of course not. And it didn’t hurt. Not really. It was what she wanted.

  “You never had a kid,” she went on.

  Neither had Susan.

  “A lot of women who don’t or can’t have children adopt kids and are wonderful parents.”

  “But you aren’t family. Moms have to be family.”

  Turning on her side, Meredith watched the little girl’s placid face beneath the moon’s glow. “You’ve given this a lot of thought, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.” Kelsey nodded.

  Because of her father dating Susan? Were they closer than they thought to winning the little girl’s approval?

  “And what conclusions have you drawn?”

  Kelsey turned her head, her tangled hair haloed around her. “I want a mom of my own more than just about anything.”

  Meredith’s heart overflowed with longing. Kelsey’s longing. “I know you do, sweetie.”

  “And you know something else?” The child’s voice dropped to a whisper.

  “What?”

  “Promise me you won’t tell my dad yet?”

  Oh, God. What now? Get Kelsey’s confidence, to keep her safe and happy? Be honest and tell the child she couldn’t make that promise without knowing what she was going to say? Listen and keep her mouth shut regardless of what she’d promised Mark?

  She finally came up with, “As long as what you’re about to tell me isn’t illegal or going to hurt you, I think I can make that promise.”

  “I’ve been wishing for a mom and asking for a mom in my prayers every single night since I can remember, which is a really long time. And that means I might get one soon.”

  Meredith’s melancholy smile was lost in the darkness. Susan and Mark were almost home free. She was relieved, grateful, honestly happy for her friends. And uneasy at the same time.

  Life for someone like Meredith was never entirely easy.

  CLIMBING THE STEPS to Meredith’s vintage three-bedroom home, Mark tossed his keys and caught them again, grinning. Life had its ups and downs and nothing was going to be perfect, but still there was enough good to keep a man happy.

  Ignoring the old-fashioned doorbell, he pulled open the screen and rapped his knuckles against the solid wood. Meredith’s house might be old, but it looked great—freshly painted white siding and black shutters, smooth floorboards on the porch, even the windows and screens were clean and in good repair. This was one woman who didn’t need a man to take care of her.

  She was also a woman who wasn’t opening her door. He knocked again, glanced toward the windows on each side of the house. Had they gone out for breakfast? Her garage door was closed, so he had no way of knowing if her car was here or not.

  One more knock and Mark was ready to sit it out on the porch. They hadn’t set a specific time for him to be there….

  The door opened a crack and through the darkness beyond he saw some strands of hair covering most of the face peering out at him. “Yes?”

  And then, before he could say a word, “Oh, my God. Mark! What are you doing here?”

  The door remained closed except for the original inch.

  “Susan got called to the hospital,” he said. “And since Kelsey never sleeps past seven on Saturdays, I thought I’d spare you….”

  “What time is it?”

  He couldn’t help grinning, although he suspected it might make her mad. “Nine.”

  “Did you say nine?”

  “Uh-huh.” The woman was cute first thing in the morning. And he’d only seen an inch of her.

  “I haven’t slept this late since college,” she muttered, sounding confused. “Hold on. I’ll go wake Kelsey.”

  “She’s probably parked in front of your television,” he told her. “She’s good about amusing herself quietly on the rare occasions I get to sleep in.”

  “She’s still asleep,” his unusual babysitter told him.

  “You probably just didn’t hear—”

  “Mark! Would you please stop being so cheerful and chatty?” So the woman had a temper in the morning, too. Why didn’t that surprise him?

  “I know she’s still asleep, because she’s in my bed. She woke up in the middle of the night and we were up for a while.”

  His grin faded. “Was something wrong? Is she sick? You should’ve called.”

  “Everything’s fine.” Her voice was back to its usual calm, if perhaps a bit tired-sounding. “I had a coughing fit that woke her up and then she couldn’t get back to sleep. Probably because she was in a strange house.”

  His heart settling back into a more normal pace, Mark had a vision of his daughter in Meredith’s bed. Which led him to thoughts of Meredith in Meredith’s bed.

  A place he absolutely did not belong. “So, is everything okay with her? Anything I need to know?”

  “Nothing,” Meredith said, and he wished she’d pull open the damn door so he could see her.

  And then, remembering she’d just come from bed, revised that thought.

  “But I don’t think she’s as averse to Susan as you think,” she added, pulling his attention firmly back to the life at hand—and the satisfaction he’d felt this morning. “We talked about girls needing mothers.”

  He narrowed his eyes, needing a better read of her expression than he was getting.

  “Did she bring that up or did you?”

  “She did.”

  He shook his head, glad that the road was clearing for him and sad at the same time that he had to hear this from someone else. He and Kelsey seemed to be growing further and further apart. “She and I never mention the subject,” he admitted. “After her mother left, Kelsey was understandably devastated. She’d break down and cry anytime I mentioned Barbie. Naturally, I stopped. She’s never said anything to me about it.”

  “Knowing Kelsey, I’d guess she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

  That sounded like Kelsey. And made good sense. He didn’t kid himself that Kelsey had done or would do an instant turnaround and suddenly love Susan dearly, but if she wasn’t averse to the idea of a new mother…

  He glanced up, getting ahead of himself and yet finding no reason to hold back on the idea that had fallen into place for him that morning. “If you really think Kelsey could be ready, that pretty much solidifies my plan to ask Susan to marry me.”

  The door fell open another couple of inches, althoug
h Meredith’s expression was still lost to him. “You’re going to propose?” Her initial, half-asleep reaction was followed by a more enthusiastic, “That’s wonderful!”

  “You think she’ll accept?” He was a bit nervous about that, and he couldn’t imagine anything better than marrying Susan. She was perfect for him. Practical, logical, beautiful. And equally important, Susan wasn’t prone to inexplicable emotional outbursts as Barbie had been.

  “I don’t know.” Meredith’s hesitation gave him pause until she added, “I hope so.”

  He hoped so, too. Except that, if he married Susan, Meredith would be around for the rest of his life.

  Mark worried about that particular notion on and off for the rest of the day.

  “SO, HOW’D IT GO with Kelsey?” Susan’s breathless question came about fifteen minutes into her Sunday morning hike with Meredith. Before that, Meredith had hogged the conversation, telling Susan about her mother’s mixed-up lab report and perfectly healthy liver.

  She’d also shared her sadness for the other woman, the stranger whose perfectly healthy report was now going to be retracted and replaced by something more serious.

  “You think it’s life-threatening?” Susan had asked as they’d arrived at the state park. They’d taken the longer of the two routes they normally hiked. It was early enough that they still had it to themselves.

  Meredith’s only reply had been a shrug, but she suspected, considering the heaviness she still felt, that this other woman’s illness was terminal.

  “Earth to Mer,” Susan said now with affectionate exasperation. “About Kelsey?”

  “I didn’t get much,” she told her friend. “She really felt happy, or at least peaceful. As though she was satisfied with the way things were going.”

  Susan stopped, turned right where the path got steep and Meredith’s tennis shoe skidded on a loose stone in the dirt. “How sure are you that you were feeling her feelings?”

  “About seventy percent.”

  They’d long ago determined that anything over sixty on Meredith’s confidence scale had at least some truth to it. She pulled her ponytail away from her sweaty neck and secured it on top of her head with a clip pulled from the pocket of her denim jacket.