Another chuckle. “It’s your good friend Dave.” He cleared his voice and made a mocking attempt at sounding more official. “Oh, that’s right; you know me as the birth father.”
Erin clenched her teeth. “If you’re looking for my husband, he’s at work. You’ll have to call back later.”
“Listen—” his tone was suddenly gruff—“I’m a busy man, okay? You tell your hubby we’re still a little short on cash; got it?”
A woman’s voice sounded in the background, but Erin couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“How short are you, Dave?” Erin hated herself for asking. They were out of money anyway. The cost of the adoption had depleted their savings, and now that they’d sold their car they had nothing left to sell. No money to scrounge up.
“Well . . .” Dave dragged the word out, toying with her. “Five thousand was too easy; know what I mean? Rich folks like you and your old man must have dough stashed away somewhere.”
“How much, Dave?” Erin didn’t have the patience for this. Her mother was being operated on fifteen hundred miles away. The last thing she was up to was another round of game playing with the slimeball on the other end of the phone. “What’s the bottom line?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Ten thousand dollars. One final payment and the baby’s yours. I promise.”
Erin’s mouth hung open. Ten thousand dollars? The amount screamed at her again and again.
“So what is it? Do we have a deal, or what?”
No words came from Erin. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think about anything but the amount. Ten thousand dollars? For a moment her mind raced and she thought about calling her father, or Kari and Ryan. They might have that kind of money sitting in an account.
But bigger than the money or how she might get it was a truth that was only now becoming clear to her. The game Dave and Candy were playing was illegal. They couldn’t blackmail them this way, raising the stakes each week in an attempt to sell their baby.
It was wrong for the two of them to ask for more money, but it was also wrong for Erin and Sam to pay it. Sam was right; they should’ve gone to the attorney and the social worker after that first meeting in the park. This wasn’t about Candy needing a little extra money for diapers and vitamins.
It was extortion.
Sam had already told her that if the couple asked for more money, they would have no choice but to turn them in and risk losing the baby.
Dave was still talking as Erin clicked the Off button on the receiver. Then she did what she should’ve done a week ago. She dialed the number for the social worker and held her breath.
When the woman answered, Erin explained the entire story. She told her about the meeting at the park and their race to sell their car and give Dave and Candy the cash.
“The last phone call came a few minutes ago.” Erin was tired, running on a strength that wasn’t her own. All she wanted was to be in Bloomington, at her father’s side in a hospital waiting room, praying for her mother. She willed herself to focus. “They want ten thousand dollars more or they won’t give up the baby.”
The social worker was outraged. She promised to contact both the attorney and the proper authorities. “People go to prison for this sort of thing, Erin. You made the right choice by calling.”
The right choice, she thought. But at what cost? Certainly Candy wouldn’t want to give her baby to them after they’d reported their scam to the authorities. When the conversation was over, Erin called Sam and told him what had happened.
His tone was heavy, but he was proud of her. “Can you imagine living like that, Erin? Even if they gave us the baby, they’d always be calling, looking for more money, making more threats.”
By the end of the call, they agreed that God was behind what had happened today, that somehow this setback would lead to some sort of good. “Maybe the courts will take the matter out of Candy’s hands. Maybe the baby will come early, with no possible chance for Candy to change her mind.”
Erin wasn’t hopeful.
Three hours later she got the call she’d been waiting for all day.
“Honey, it’s Dad. She came through okay.”
“How is she? I’ve been praying all day, I want to be there so badly.”
“I know. Luke feels the same way.” Her father’s voice was thick. Nothing about it sounded upbeat or hopeful. “Your mother won’t be able to have visitors until tomorrow, and then they’re hoping to get her home pretty quickly. It’s better that you’re there, honey.”
Erin hesitated. If she never asked the question, she’d never have to deal with the answer. But that wasn’t realistic. She shaded her eyes with her free hand. “How is she, Dad? What’d the surgeons say?”
“They’re concerned but hopeful, which is a good thing. They have to run tests to see if they got it all, but Dr. Steinman said she has a good chance of recovery.” He hesitated. “They’re recommending pretty intensive chemo and radiation for the next eight weeks.”
Erin felt herself slump forward. “Eight weeks?”
“Yes.” Her father sighed. “That’ll take us to the middle of May, and then they’ll run some more tests and see how she’s responding.”
The worst part was the waiting. Eight weeks? Eight weeks of recovery from surgery along with heavy chemo and radiation? All before they might have an idea about whether Mom was winning the battle? Erin worked her fingers into her brow. “That’s all, Dad? Didn’t they say anything else?”
Her father paused just long enough to make Erin suspicious. “We’ll know more in eight weeks.”
“What about today? They must have some idea if they got it all.”
“You’re right.” He sounded resigned. “They have some idea.”
“And?”
“And the cancer’s very aggressive, Erin. They’re not sure if they got it all.”
Erin felt the floor move beneath her feet. Cancer was a terrifying thing at any level, but when doctors weren’t raving with good news after a double mastectomy, the stakes were higher than ever before.
If they didn’t get it all with the surgery, then her mother wouldn’t be battling cancer any longer. She would be fighting for her life.
“I’m sorry, honey.” Her father’s voice was thick again. “You asked me to be honest.”
“I know; I appreciate that.” Erin’s mind raced. “Have you told the others?”
“Yes.” He drew in a shaky breath. “They were all waiting for my call. Everyone knows.”
A chill passed over Erin, and she tightened her grip on the phone. “What’s the plan, Dad? I want to see her.”
“I’ve told everyone the same thing.” He coughed. “Your mother wants everyone to get together this summer for a reunion. At Sanibel Island in Florida.”
“Sanibel Island? Why there?”
“I guess she’s always wanted an island vacation with her family.” His tone said even he couldn’t understand her request. “I’m not sure about Sanibel Island, but if things go well, she should be strong enough to get out a bit by the first of July.”
“Ashley’s wedding is July nineteenth, right?”
“Right.” His tone was heartfelt. “Here’s what I’m thinking.”
Erin blinked back the tears. Whatever he was about to say, the request meant a great deal to him. Whatever it took, she would do her best to go along with the plan.
“Maybe set aside the month of July. I know Sam can’t get a whole month off, but you can, right?”
“Definitely.”
“Your mother would like everyone to fly into Fort Myers sometime after the Fourth of July for the reunion. Then maybe we can all fly home and use our house as headquarters as we get ready for Ashley’s wedding.”
Erin didn’t want to say it, hated herself for needing to know, but she couldn’t stop herself. “What if . . .” Her voice fell away.
“What if she isn’t well enough to get away?” Sadness leaked between every word. “I can’t think that far ahead,
Erin. The others asked the same thing. All I can say is keep July open. Your mother wants everyone together, and if she has her way, we’ll spend a week together on a beach in south Florida.”
When Sam got home, Erin was in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair thinking about the changes that had come into their lives in the past week. She heard him park his van in the garage and enter the house. The phone rang, and she heard him answer it. Whoever it was, he talked for only a few minutes; then she heard his footsteps in the hallway.
“Erin?”
“I’m in here.” Her cheeks were tight, her makeup smeared from the tears she’d cried since talking to her father.
Sam stood in the doorway to the nursery, and the moment she saw his face she knew. Something was wrong, something other than Candy and Dave’s attempts to blackmail money from them, something other than her mother’s cancer and the fact that just possibly the doctors hadn’t gotten it all with the double mastectomy.
Part of her wanted to cover her ears and run from the room. She’d had more bad news than she could take. But another part was drawn in, desperate to know what could possibly make Sam look so upset.
“What is it, Sam?” She pressed her back against the rocker and set the chair in motion. “Tell me.”
“The social worker called.” His tone was defeated. “They arrested Dave and Candy and another man named Larry. Apparently police found paperwork at their apartment detailing the entire scheme. It was pretty elaborate, Erin. They planned to take as much money from us as possible, and then skip town. Dave had another couple lined up in Dallas willing to pay ten thousand dollars through a private attorney.”
Erin’s head was spinning. She stopped rocking and stared at Sam. “You mean . . . you mean they never intended to give us their baby?”
“No.” Sam leaned against the doorframe and slid himself down until he was sitting on the floor. “Police contacted the attorney in Dallas, and of course they had no idea Dave and Candy had already arranged for us to adopt the baby.”
“No, Sam. No . . . it isn’t true.” Erin bent forward. Black spots filled her vision and she felt light-headed, sick to her stomach, and faint. “Tell me the baby’s still ours.”
Sam let his gaze fall to the floor. When he found her eyes again, he shook his head. “Candy’s changed her mind, Erin. She told the social worker she was coerced into the plan from the beginning. The whole thing: the adoption, the demands for money. She says she wants to keep her baby and be the best mother she can be.”
Erin wanted to vomit. “She’s lying, Sam. You saw her. She doesn’t care a bit for the kids she already has.”
“I know that.” Sam dropped his head in his hands for nearly a minute. “How’s your mother?”
“Not good.” She started to tell Sam the details, how the doctors were afraid they might not have gotten all her cancer, and how her mother would have to face a rigorous round of chemo and radiation.
But instead she dropped from the chair to her knees. She crawled across the floor to Sam and knelt between his legs. “Hold me, Sam. I can’t take another minute of this day.”
He rose to his knees. His arms came around her, and they stayed that way as every sad thing about the day pressed in around Erin’s heart. She was grateful for Sam, grateful that he cared enough to hold her, to rock away the sorrow that threatened to suffocate her. As night brought a merciful end to the day, Erin was sure her siblings were also bearing the pain of the news about their mother.
But hers was a different pain, more intense. Because she wasn’t only dealing with the possible loss of their mother. She had lost a daughter, too.
All in one very awful March afternoon.
Chapter Twelve
A week had passed since his mother’s surgery, and there were times when Luke still wanted to drop everything and head to Bloomington.
“I’ll be fine,” she told him every time he called. “Focus on your life there, Luke. We’ll see each other this summer.”
Luke opened his leather portfolio and slipped a stack of papers inside. He’d had two classes this morning and then an hour-long break at home. The law office was expecting him by one o’clock for a four-hour shift. Luke didn’t mind; he loved his job. A professor at the university had arranged it, an internship with Morris and McKenzie, one of the top entertainment-law firms in Manhattan.
Three weeks into the job, one of the partners had pulled him aside. “You can clerk for us until the day we hire you, Luke. You’re a hard worker and we like your style.”
Luke was flattered. He had always figured he’d defend religious rights once he earned his law degree. But entertainment law was exciting, at least for now. Movie stars and television actors made regular appearances in the office, stopping by with their agents to go over the details of a contract or a pending deal.
Reagan was still excited about the names he dropped at the end of a shift, the entertainers who had stopped by and chatted with him while they waited for their agents and lawyers to hash out the details. But Luke wasn’t that impressed. People were people, whether they clerked at a law office or made blockbuster films.
Still, the job was fast-paced and challenging, and Luke could hardly wait for the day—two years down the road—when he would have his law degree and the chance to jump into the middle of contract negotiations, arbitrations, and court cases.
Reagan entered the bedroom and smiled. Tommy was on her hip. “Your mother called while you were at school.”
“Really?” Luke tucked the bag under his arm and put his free hand around Reagan’s shoulders. “What’d she say?”
“She’s feeling better. She wants you to call when you have a chance.”
Tommy reached out and patted Luke’s hair. “Da-da.”
“Hi, little man.” Luke brushed his nose against Tommy’s. “How’s the world’s greatest baby today?”
“He took his first step.” Reagan beamed. She was beautiful, not only because of her long legs and striking features. Ever since their wedding she hadn’t stopped glowing. As if the sadness of losing her father and all the hard times that had followed had finally lifted from her heart.
“He isn’t even ten months old!” Luke took hold of Tommy’s fist and waved it in the air. “Champion baby of the world, right here. Yes sirree!”
Reagan giggled and sat on the edge of their bed. Tommy squirmed and she put him down so he could balance against the mattress. “How is your mom, really, Luke? Have you heard?”
“No.” Luke stood near her. He worked his fingers into the base of her neck, massaging the knots that gathered there after a day of caring for Tommy. “My dad hasn’t said much lately.” He met Reagan’s eyes and held them for a moment. “They’re pretty sure they didn’t get it all—we know that. Now it’s a waiting game. To see how well she responds to the treatment.”
“She’s started, right?”
“Yes. A few days after the surgery.”
Reagan winced. She swept Tommy back into her arms and stood again. “I’m sorry, Luke. I know how hard this has to be.”
“Sometimes I think that’s why I’m working so much. A full load at school and the hours I’m putting in at Morris and McKenzie.”
“Could be.” She leaned in and kissed him, a slow, seductive kiss square on the lips. Tommy cooed at them and grabbed a handful of Reagan’s hair.
“That was nice.” Luke tightened his hold on the portfolio. Another kiss like that one and he’d skip work for the day.
“Listen—” she drew back, her eyes tender—“I want you to know I support what you’re doing. The hours at Morris and McKenzie, they’re going somewhere. It’s your future—our future. Don’t ever think I expect you to miss out on an opportunity like this one, okay?”
“Okay.” He kissed her this time and took a few steps toward the door. “I’ll be home before dinner.”
Luke took the subway to the law office, situated a few blocks from Times Square, in the heart of the theater district. He had barely s
ettled in at his desk when he heard a commotion in the next room.
One of the secretaries popped her head in and giggled. Then in a loud whisper she explained what was happening. “Dayne Matthews! He’s here. Can you believe it?”
Luke rolled his eyes and smiled. “Oh boy! Get an autograph for me, okay?”
The woman made a face at him and turned around, closing the door behind her. Luke chuckled to himself. Dayne Matthews was a household name, a rising star who was cast in lead roles because of his uncanny acting ability and his blond, boyish good looks. People compared him to a young Robert Redford, a heartthrob with timeless charm and a way of relating on-screen that kept him in high demand in Hollywood.
Luke had heard from one of the attorneys that Dayne was a client, but the guy spent most of his time in Hollywood, checking in with the offices Morris and McKenzie had there. He was probably filming something on location in New York City. Yes, that was it. Someone at the office had mentioned that the day before.
The commotion was dying down. The star gazers in the office had apparently found their way back to their work, and Dayne and his agent were probably getting down to business.
Luke studied the stack of contracts on his desk. Contracts made up the bulk of his work. The attorneys would write up an agreement—sometimes thirty, forty pages long—and attach it to a boilerplate, a contract that had already been approved. Luke’s job was to go through both documents and find discrepancies. He would then yellow tag them so the attorney could go back and make sure the differences were intentional.
There was enough work to keep Luke busy ten hours a day, but he had agreed to just under thirty hours a week. Long enough to learn the business and figure out if entertainment law was his thing or not, but with time built into his schedule for classes and studying and his young wife and son. Them most of all.
He picked up the first contract and laid it out on the desk in front of him. Before he could reach for the boilerplate, the door opened and Joe Morris walked in with Dayne Matthews and another man.
Reunion Page 12