by Brenda Novak
“Are you finding anything you like?” he asked after several minutes.
Macy peeked over the menu she was using to block his close regard and offered what she hoped was an at-ease smile. “I think I’ll have the chicken salad.”
When the waitress returned, Thad ordered her salad and a steak, medium-rare, for himself, then retrieved something from his briefcase. He glanced through it, apparently comparing it to what Macy had written on the application, and she suddenly felt as though the word liar hovered in the air over her head.
A frown creased his forehead. “Your grandmother died of heart disease?”
“Yes, but she was eighty-eight, hardly cut down in her prime.”
He nodded. “There’s no information here about your father.”
“Because I don’t know anything about him.”
A raised eyebrow told her he expected to hear more.
“He ran out on my mother after she got pregnant with me. It seems he didn’t share her desire to raise a family.”
“I see.” He went back to his questionnaire, and Macy suddenly wished she’d ordered something much stiffer than soda water.
“You’ve had a miscarriage?”
“Just after my husband and I were married, I became pregnant, but it only lasted three months.”
“What happened?”
“My doctor had no idea why I lost the baby. He said it happens all the time. He gave me a D & C and sent me home.” She took a gulp of her drink, feeling the tasteless fizz roll down her throat and wishing their food would arrive to divert Thad Winters’s attention from her before he reached the infamous Have you had unprotected sex with anyone in the past ten years? question.
“It says here you’ve never taken any drugs.”
“Right.” At least her conscience was clear there.
“You’ve never even experimented? No pot? No acid?”
Macy thought back on all the college parties where she’d been offered such things. She’d been tempted occasionally, but she’d heard of too many bad things that had happened while people weren’t themselves. Except for that short window after Richard left, when she’d drunk more than she should have, she’d always decided to protect her judgment. “No.”
He nodded and kept reading. Finally, he stopped and glanced up, and Macy knew he’d arrived at the question she most wanted to avoid.
“You claim here that you’ve never had unprotected sex, except with your husband.”
Macy let her gaze slide away, unable to face the ocean-blue intensity of his eyes while she lied. Instead of voicing her answer, she nodded, hoping he’d let her get away with that and move on. But he didn’t. He frowned and waited until she started fidgeting with a lock of her hair.
“Do you want to change your answer?” he asked at last.
Forcing her hands away from her hair and beneath the table, where she clenched them, Macy shook her head. “No…ah…no. Why would I?”
“You gave me permission to do a background check, remember?”
“So?” She cleared her throat when the word squeaked out, wishing she could lie as easily and effectively as Richard had always lied to her.
“There’s a woman by the name of Julia Templeton who claims you slept with her boyfriend once. She’s a bartender at Studio 9.”
Macy’s jaw dropped. “You must have turned over every rock in my past to have come up with that information,” she accused.
“That’s what a background check does. Did you think I wouldn’t bother, Macy?”
Being forced into the awkward position she was in and having embarrassed herself by trying to lie made Macy angry. “I’m sure you were most thorough, Mr. Winters. Tell me, what else did you find? That I was the slut of Hillcrest High?”
A muscle ticked in his cheek, but his voice was still civil when he said, “Were you?”
Grabbing her purse, Macy dug through it and tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table. Then she stood up. “Enjoy my salad, Mr. Winters. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
* * *
THAD SAT in the booth at the steak house long after Macy had left, staring at the report Rychert had compiled on Macy McKinney. It was certainly thorough. She’d been raised an only child by a single mother who’d worked for the Department of Motor Vehicles for thirty years and was now retired and living in Las Vegas. She’d attended college on academic scholarship, had dated a lot, despite her pressing studies, and had married a popular football player for the University of Utah. They’d had one daughter, who would be five years old now, and had divorced a year ago when her husband took off with a teenager who’d worked at the local McDonald’s. Since her husband left, she’d enrolled in school again, for the first time since having the baby, and she was now living on student loans, plus some help from her mother, and what she could earn at home transcribing, formatting and proofreading dictated medical reports for various physicians.
Not an easy life for a bright young woman like Ms. McKinney, but one with promise. Her history pointed to an inner strength, dedication and resilience that Thad admired. Rychert had found no evidence of drug use, no alcohol abuse, though she did drink heavily for a short period after her marriage broke up, no particularly worrisome diseases or mental instability lurking in her family genes. And no sexual indiscretions beyond the claims of that one bartender at Studio 9.
Few women had a résumé so clean. Thad had thought he’d found the one. Until she’d lied to him. Then he’d known it would never work. He refused to involve himself with someone he couldn’t trust, not when it came to his child.
Sighing, he finished his drink and pushed the baked potato around some more on his plate. Sex was an uncomfortable subject for most people. With her goal of becoming a pediatrician hanging in the balance, he understood how strong the temptation to lie must have been. But understanding did little to alleviate his disappointment that, regardless of her initial candor, Macy McKinney had turned out to be no better than anyone else.
His cellular phone chirped, interrupting his thoughts. Pushing his plate away, he punched the Talk button. “Thad Winters.”
“It’s Rychert. Did I catch you at a good time?”
Thad looked across at the empty booth, then thought of going home to his empty house. Once he left work, he had nothing but time. He used to spend the evenings with Valerie, painting the nursery, landscaping their yard, cleaning their garage or cars. Since her death, he didn’t know how to fill the evening hours. Her parents and younger sibling had moved out of state when her father retired the year after he and Valerie were married, and they rarely called. His own parents spent their winters in Arizona and wouldn’t be back for a few weeks yet, which left him with a sister and a brother who lived close but had families and busy lives of their own. Sometimes he still tinkered around the house, but there didn’t seem to be much point anymore. At least at the restaurant he could hear the quiet buzz of other people’s conversations, the tinkle of a woman’s laugh.
“Now is good,” he said. “What’s up?”
“Did you get the report on Macy McKinney I sent by courier?”
Thad frowned at the papers that still rested on the table, almost wishing he’d never seen them. “Yeah.”
“What do you think?”
“I was hopeful until she walked out on me a few minutes ago.”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Then, “Well, if she’s no longer a possibility, this might not matter, but I was just clearing off my desk to go home and ran across a page of the report I inadvertently left out.”
“I don’t think you left anything out. I’ve got pages one through four and nothing seems missing.”
“This was the last page, page five. Somehow, it didn’t get clipped to the rest.”
Thad shook his glass and listened to the ice clank against the sides. “No problem. It can’t possibly say anything that’s going to make a difference now, anyway.”
“I don’t know. It goes a long way toward
explaining why she contacted you in the first place.”
“The money isn’t reason enough?”
“Not for a babe like her. She’s a class act. Single mother, med student, high achiever.”
Putting his glass down, Thad threw his credit card on the table as the waitress came to collect the plates. “Greed can strike anyone, Rychert. She’s a starving student. She has to pay for her schooling somehow. Besides, the part of your report I did receive says she drives an old Pinto. Sounds like she could use a new car.”
“She could use a lot of things, but it’s not school or cars or anything like that she’s concerned about. She has something much bigger on her mind.”
Now Rychert had his full attention. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“Her daughter needs a bone marrow transplant. Without it, she’ll die.”
CHAPTER THREE
PRIMARY CARE HOSPITAL was a creamy-white building located on Medical Drive next to the university hospital. It hummed with the fans and belts that ran the air-conditioning, specialized medical equipment and various office machines. The chilled air carried a hint of antiseptic, and the cloying smell of serious illness pervaded the place, but Thad tried not to notice. Instead, he focused on the petite, gray-haired nurse sitting at the receptionist’s desk just inside the main entrance.
“I’m looking for Haley McKinney’s room,” he said when he reached her.
The nurse glanced at the clock, then eyed the huge stuffed teddy bear propped under Thad’s arm. “Visiting hours are over.”
“I know I’m a little late, but I won’t stay long.”
She looked at the bear again. “Well, her mother’s with her. If you make it quick, I don’t see how it can hurt anything, as long as you scrub up before you go in. Her immune system is so low, we have to be careful what germs she comes in contact with. Wait a minute. They moved her a day or two ago. Let me check her room number.” She swiveled away to consult her computer. “Take this hallway to the elevators and go up to the fourth floor. When you get off, you’ll see a set of doors leading to the oncology department. Right inside is a small anteroom where you’ll scrub your hands and arms and face. Just make sure the outer door is closed before you open the inside one. You don’t have a cold or anything, do you?”
“No.”
“Fine. Haley’s in room 3.”
Thad thanked her and pushed away from the counter, growing increasingly uneasy with the memories this sterile environment evoked. He hadn’t expected it to be quite so bad, but now that he was standing in the middle of the hospital lobby, he couldn’t avoid the memories of Valerie’s last days. He had spent many hours in a similar place, waiting while the doctors operated, hoping, praying, staring dumbly into space—and eventually losing everything that mattered to him.
Shooting a look at the sliding doors that led to the parking lot where he’d left his car, Thad hesitated. It wasn’t too late to turn away instead of plunging right into the middle of someone else’s misery. He didn’t owe Macy anything. They were still virtual strangers. She hadn’t even leveled with him and told him why she needed the money. She didn’t want him in her personal life. There had to be someone else who could help her.
Then why did she contact me? Surely I was a last resort?
Thad winced under the responsibility that thought landed squarely on his shoulders. Dammit, he hadn’t asked for this! All he wanted was a child of his own, and he was willing to sacrifice every penny of the life insurance money he’d collected on Valerie’s death to avoid any further entanglements.
Still, it wasn’t responsibility that drew him down the hall and away from the exit, he realized. It was the thought of Macy’s gaunt cheeks, the lack of sparkle in her eyes. The mystery of what had caused those things had been solved, and as much as he didn’t want to, he could feel her pain. He understood—as few could—and that understanding wouldn’t allow him to walk away.
The nurses’ station outside the oncology department was deserted. Thad scrubbed up as he’d been told and closed the outer door, then stepped into the sterile ward, expecting someone to question his presence or acknowledge him in some way. But other than a hushed murmuring a few doors down, there was no one to stop him from walking down the hall and poking his head into room 3.
No one except himself. He hovered just outside until a small sweet voice caught him as effectively as a net.
“Mommy? Is that you?”
Not wanting to frighten the child by leaving his shadow falling across her door, Thad moved inside, where she could see him and he could see her. Small for her age and almost as white as the sheets she lay between, she stared at him with round eyes that were far too big for her face. Her hair had been reduced to a few wispy strands. Her bones were prominent through her flesh. And the circles beneath her eyes were so dark it looked as though they’d been painted there deliberately. No less than twenty-five IVs surrounded her bed.
The sight clenched Thad’s stomach like a vise, and even though he didn’t know this child, had no emotional connection to her, he ached for her suffering.
“My name is Thad, Haley,” he said, smiling to reassure her. “I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
“I’ve never seen you before,” she replied doubtfully.
His smile grew. “No, your mother and I haven’t known each other very long. Did she go home to get some rest?”
“Lisa made her go to the lunchroom.”
“Good for Lisa. She’s your mommy’s friend, right?”
Haley frowned, looking unsure, but finally nodded. “What’s that?” she asked, eyeing the teddy bear with obvious appreciation.
“It’s for you. But it looks as though you might not have room for him.”
She scooted to the side. “He can fit. See?”
Thad placed the giant bear in the bed beside her, and she promptly began to cover him up with her blankets. “He’s cold,” she explained.
“It doesn’t look like he’ll be cold for long. What are you going to name him?”
She screwed up her face, thinking long and hard. “Scotty has a dog named Bruiser.”
“Who’s Scotty?”
“He lives next door to us.”
“Well, I doubt he’ll mind if you want to name your bear after his dog.”
She smiled, and a hint of how beautiful she would be if she were healthy caused another pang in Thad’s chest. He could see Macy’s elegant features in her and began to wonder how her father could have abandoned such a lovely child, or how, for that matter, he could have abandoned her mother. Marrying a man capable of doing something like that didn’t seem like Macy McKinney, but then, there was no accounting for love. It could blind even the strongest and wisest.
“What are you doing here?”
Thad turned to see Macy at the door, gaping at him.
He studied her for a moment, then chose his words carefully. “I have a hundred thousand dollars in the bank, Macy. There isn’t any reason we can’t both get what we want.”
Macy’s eyes darted suspiciously from Thad to her daughter and the stuffed bear, then back to Thad. “And what is it you want, Mr. Winters?”
“You know what I want. I want my baby.” He nodded to Haley. “And you want yours.”
Taking a business card from his shirt pocket, he scribbled down his home number and handed it to her. “Call me if you’re still interested,” he said, and walked out.
* * *
“WHO WAS THAT?” Lisa demanded, coming through the door to Haley’s room just after Thad Winters had left.
“Guess,” Macy replied. Dropping the backpack she’d been dragging around with her so she could study, she slumped into the seat next to her daughter’s bed.
Lisa raised her eyebrows. “Well, he wasn’t wearing scrubs or a white coat, so I doubt he was a doctor.”
“It was Fad,” Haley piped up. “He brought me a bear.”
“Thad,” Macy corrected, eyeing the stuffed animal as though she’d like to belt it. “Thad
Winters.”
Lisa blinked in surprise. “That was him? Oooee, what a babe! You’re crazy if you think a man like that has to pay a woman to do anything.”
Macy rolled her eyes. “Handsome is as handsome does.”
“And what has he done that’s so unhandsome?”
Macy didn’t really have an answer for that. He’d caught her in a lie, which had embarrassed her, but she had no right to hold that against him. He was offering her money to do something she didn’t want to do, because he knew her back was against the wall. But he could have offered the deal to someone else. As Lisa had said, there had to be any number of women who would happily oblige a man like Thad Winters—for free! So what, then, had her so angry?
The desperation that forced her to act beyond her own good judgment, she decided. And the fear. But those things had nothing to do with Thad Winters, either. At least he seemed to want a baby for the right reasons. Everyone who knew him was convinced he’d take good care of a child. Besides, she couldn’t expect him or anyone else to plop a hundred thousand dollars into her lap for nothing. A hundred bucks wasn’t inconceivable as a charitable donation, but one hundred thousand?
“He wants you to do it, right?” Lisa asked, watching her.
Slowly, Macy nodded.
“And you will?”
Macy nodded again. She had no choice. Haley meant everything to her. She could only hope Thad was right—that his money would bring them what they both wanted. Otherwise, if the bone marrow transplant didn’t work, she’d be expected to give up the new baby on the heels of losing Haley.
* * *
THAT NIGHT Macy tossed and turned until she wanted to scream. The nurse had insisted she go home and get some rest, had convinced her that she’d be no good to Haley if she didn’t. But sleep eluded her, despite the weariness she dragged around like an old blanket. Her shoulder ached from hauling her heavy textbooks everywhere she went, and all she could think about was Thad Winters and his offer, and what the money might do for Haley. She had to believe the bone marrow transplant would finally make her daughter well. She couldn’t face the alternative.