by Julie Bailes
What the …? No. “You’re crazy! I’m not proving to you that I swallowed it, Blake. Now, give me the damn food and sit down.” I’m going to have a talk with Lucille and Blake. This shit’s going to end, and soon.
Eleven
~Wyatt~
Allie’s been home for two weeks, and we’ve yet to talk. Actually, we haven’t even seen each other. I caught a glimpse of her a few times when she came down to get something to drink in the middle of the night, but she walked right past me. I’ve bit my tongue until it bled, trying my damnedest not to talk to her. And it’s taken all my power not to throw Blake out her window the nights he’s stayed with her in her room. It should be me. It should be me lying next to her and taking care of her needs. On the bright side, she’s doing better. Her stance is more erect; her movements are faster, and her bruises are fading. I figured I’d try to talk with her today. Since I discovered Lucille’s working a double and Blake’s on call, there shouldn’t be any interruptions.
After I hear her water shut off, I give her a few minutes to dress before I make my way up to her bedroom. I knock on her door several times, but she doesn’t invite me in. I twist the knob to see if it’s locked, but it isn’t. I crack the door and open it slowly. She’s sitting cross-legged in the floor with a photo album splayed open in front of her. She doesn’t look up to see that it’s me; she already knows. “You sure can’t take a hint, can you?” she mumbles, admiring the photos in front of her.
“I can take a hint, but I just refuse to.” She continues to stare at the photos, and as I sit on the floor next to her. When my eyes catch sight of what she’s looking at, my heart squeezes. There are some pictures of Allie with her round belly sticking out from under a hospital gown. She’s smiling, but it’s a heartbreaking smile. I look to her, but she continues to ignore my presence, so I break the silence. “What’s that you’re looking at?” I ask. Stupid question, Wyatt. You know what she’s looking at. This question could bite me in the ass, and if I know my butterfly like I know I do, it will.
“You have eyes. What does it look like?” she spits.
I smile, because I knew it was coming. Always such a feisty little fireball. She hears me cough my laugh and gives me a look that says ‘drop dead asshole’. “I know. I was just breaking the silence.”
“Don’t,” she argues.
“I can’t take the silence, Allie. It’s driving me insane. There’s so much I have to tell you, and I need you to hear me out. Stop shutting me out of your life, butterfly. I need you,” I say, reaching up and tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. She slaps my hand down and turns the page. My mouth drops, and my heart stops beating. The next set of pictures is of Allie lying on a table, arms stretched out to the side, tubes in her nose, and a blue sheer cap containing her hair. She’s looking into the camera with that same sad smile, but this time there are tears in her eyes. On the other side of the album, I see Allie sitting in a rocking chair, holding a baby with a head full of dark hair, and she has tubes coming from her nose. Allie’s staring into the baby’s face and she’s using her pinky finger to pull the baby’s bottom lip down.
“These were the best and worst days of my life. I thought when you left, my heart was completely damaged, but nothing compared to the damage left behind after placing Lacy in another woman’s arms—nothing,” she sniffs. I run my fingers through her hair gently and pretend that I don’t notice the missing patch. “Don’t try to console me, not now. Don’t pretend to care. It’s too late.” I pull my hand away and rest it on my knee. I don’t want to upset her.
“That’s her, right? That’s my Lacy?”
“Yes and no. Yes, this is Lacy.” She points to my beautiful baby girl. “But no, she’s not yours. She doesn’t belong to you, or me.”
The fuck she doesn’t. She may not belong to her anymore, but she’s still mine. I didn’t agree to give her away. I almost choke on the words that are fighting to escape, but I can’t allow them to escape. She’s finally talking to me. She may be fueling my anger by telling me Lacy is no longer mine, but I don’t want her to shut me out, again. “She’s beautiful,” I attest.
“She is.” I see the tear that’s gliding down her cheek, but instead of wiping it away, I sit on my hands to keep myself from touching her.
“She looks just like me,” I note.
“Yeah, a spitting image,” she agrees.
“What color are her eyes?”
“Blue, just like yours.”
Hair so dark it’s almost black, plump baby lips, and blue eyes make for the most beautiful baby girl ever created. She turns the page to another set of pictures, but this time, the baby has grown tremendously in size, and the tubes that covered her are gone. “She’s much bigger in this picture. She was still in the hospital?” By the size of Lacy, they should’ve left the hospital weeks, maybe even months, prior to these pictures.
“This is the last day I ever held her.” Her voice breaks as she begins to cry.
“How old is she there?” I ask, pointing to our baby girl.
“Almost three months.”
“What?” I yell. How does a mother, especially one with a heart of gold like Allie’s, care for a baby for months and then just hand her over?
“Don’t fucking yell at me! I’m having a hard enough time as it is,” she sobs.
“Tell me how. Tell me how to calm down, Allie. Not only did you drop the bomb on me that we created a life, which you so easily gave away, but you kept her for almost three months before handing her over? How?”
“You think it was easy handing her over?”
“Yes, to me, that is exactly what it seems like. There is no way I could’ve held our precious girl in my arms and then hand her over for someone else to raise.”
“Are you kidding me? She was in the hospital that long, asshole. She was born prematurely, she couldn’t breathe on her own, and she was underweight! I stayed with her every day. I nursed her once she was able to suck. I took care of her, dammit! I gave birth to her. I wanted her. You didn’t. You walked away from us.” Spit sprays from her mouth as she speaks through her teeth. “Why am I even explaining myself to you? You don’t deserve an explanation. You can sit here and put the blame on me, but she’s gone because of you,” she accuses.
“How is that? I left, but you could’ve kept her, at least until I returned.”
“How was I supposed to know you were coming back, huh? You left us behind! You didn’t leave a letter. You didn’t call. Nothing. How was I supposed to take care of her? Tell me that, Mister Kick-her-while-she’s-down Cooper,” she demands.
Fuck. I don’t know, but she could’ve done something. “I’m not trying to kick you while you’re down, Allie. I’m just trying to understand. And maybe I’m coming off as a prick, but you could’ve done it. There’re shit loads of single mothers. No, it wouldn’t have been easy, but you could’ve managed. I mean, hell, did you at least know the family you handed her over to?” I ask hatefully. I’m trying to control my anger, but as usual, I spit out the words before evaluating them in my mind. She doesn’t respond. “Did you, Allie? Tell me everything you know.”!” I demand. Still nothing but a glare.
“For all things fucking holy! Tell me something, anything that’ll help me get her back,” I plea.
“Glad to know you think so highly of me,” she huffs, her voice full of sarcasm. “She’s with a great family, and that’s all you need to know. You can’t go and rip someone’s daughter away from them after they’ve raised her for almost four years. Are you insane?” I’m beginning to think I am.
“Not yet, but I’m on my way there. Of course, I can’t rip her from their home, but I am going to fight to get back custody. Goddammit, Allie, I just don’t understand how you did it. I don’t know how anyone could do it.” Do I feel bad for the family I’m going after? You bet your ass I do, but she’s mine.
“If all you’re going to do is tear me apart and belittle me, get the hell out. I don’t need you or anyone else tel
ling me how horrible a person I am; I already know. Every single time I close my eyes, I see her beautiful face. Those beautiful blue eyes haunt my dreams. And on top of all that, I feel guilty for having these babies; almost to the point of not wanting them. There!
You happy?”
“No. I’m not happy. Allie, the last thing I want to see is you hurting. I know I’m coming across as an insensitive dick, but I just want our daughter. I’m sorry; I didn’t realize all you went through. And I hate myself for leaving, but we all make mistakes, and you won’t ever let me forget it.” I walk over and help her off the floor. Once she’s standing, I wrap my arms around her neck and use caution when pulling her head into my chest. I kiss the top of her head softly. “With all that’s within me, I truly am sorry. Sorry for the way I left you and for the decisions you had to make on your own. No one should ever have to go through that,” I sympathize. As I hold her, I begin to think that she’s forgiven me, until I feel her wipe her snotty-ass nose down the middle of my shirt and push me away.
“You shouldn’t be in here. I still haven’t forgotten what you’ve done,” she sniffles.
“Can you at least give me a chance to explain?”
“Explain what? Excuse me if I don’t want to go through the details of what happened between you and Sophie. That’s something I wish I had never seen.”
“That’s just it. I need to know exactly what you saw. I don’t remember anything after our argument. Not a damn thing.” I say, hoping to convince her to give me a chance to explain what Dr. Ruben told me.
She walks to her door and opens it, silently telling me to leave.
“Allie, please. Just hear me out,” I beg.
“I will, I promise. Just not now. It’s still too fresh, and I need a few more days. If you can leave me alone for a few more days, I’ll hear what you have to say.” She nods her head in the direction of the hall, and I obey her request. I kiss her head once more before walking out of her room.
Before she shuts the door, I blurt out the last and most important question I have for her. “You never really answered my question. Did you know the family who adopted her? Can you at least tell me where to begin my search for our daughter?” I ask.
She huffs and rolls her eyes. “No, I didn’t know much about the family beside the fact they had been married for over twenty years and were unable to have kids of their own. All I know is that Mom said they were godly people, and she trusted they would take great care of her. If you want to know anything else, ask Mom.” She lowers her head as she closes the door.
I go back into Kyle’s room and fire up my laptop. In the search engine, I search for adoption agencies in and around the Jacksonville area, but only two results display. I take down their numbers and call them both. I tell them my situation, but they refuse to dish out any information. I have to have some rights, don’t I? I wasn’t even aware of Lacy’s existence, and I sure as hell didn’t sign over my rights. I was overseas serving our country, for Christ’s sake; surely that has to count for something.
I call Lucille and convince her to break her dinner date with Jack and meet me instead. I don’t tell her what it’s regarding, I just tell her it’s important, and I need her help. I know she said I needed to get all the information about Lacy’s adoption from Al, but Allie directed me back to Lucille. Someone’s going to give me the answers I deserve. If they’ll do it willingly or not depends on them, and I’m not against summoning either one of them to court. It’s my last resort, and I don’t want to do it, but I will.
As I enter the restaurant, Lucille greets me in the entryway. The hostess takes us to our seats and the waitress—a woman I’m familiar with—steps up to the booth with her pen and pad in hand, ready to take our orders. I duck my head behind the menu in an attempt to avoid this bat-shit crazy lady who stalked me during the short time I spent at NCSU.
“Oh, my gawd! Wyatt Cooper, is that you?” she asks, pulling the menu away from my face.
Fuuuuucck. I flash her a polite smile, nod, and snatch the menu back. “Wow. Where’ve you been? One day you were here and the next day you weren’t,” she giggles.
Fucking blondes. “Yup, something like that,” I sigh, fully annoyed by her presence.
“Well, come on, spill it. Where did you run off to?” Can’t she take the orders and bounce off on her merry little way? Why must she lure out my inner demon that I’m trying so hard to conceal? Lucille must notice my aggravation and muscle twitches, because she reaches over the table and places her hand on my forearm.
“I’m sorry if I come off a little harsh, but we’re here to get something to eat and have a conversation of our own. And if I’m not mistaken, you’re on the clock, yeah? So, he’ll have a water with lemons, and I’ll take a diet Coke.”
Carlee, I believe that’s her name, looks to me as if I’m going to protest Lucille’s orders. I nod curtly to confirm her order and give Lucille a silent thank you. Carlee clicks her pen, shoves it into her apron, and stomps off toward the kitchen. Lucille pulls her hand back to her side and opens her menu. “So, Wyatt, tell me what’s on your mind,” she urges.
I don’t respond to her because I see Carlee returning with our drinks, and all I can think about is how I hope she didn’t spit in either one of them. If I see anything out the norm floating in either one of our cups, I’ll flip the fuck out.
She sets our drinks down onto the table, and I pick them up to examine them. All clear. She takes our orders, and once I see she’s out of hearing distance, I begin to tell Lucille what I need from her. “Allie finally spoke to me today,” I inform her.
She places her elbow on the table and leans forward. “Yeah? How’d that play out?” she asks curiously.
“Not too bad, actually.” Really, it could have gone a lot worse.
“How did you get her to acknowledge you?”
“I went into her room. She was on the floor, flipping through a photo album. I was curious as to what she was admiring, so I went over and sat beside her.”
“That’s it? Which album?”
“Pictures from her pregnancy and pictures of Lacy in the hospital,” I explain, remembering how every hair on my body stood as I saw a picture of my baby girl for the first time.
Lucille sips her Coke and sits back, waiting for me to elaborate. “Believe it or not, she opened up to me some. I tried to contain my anger, Lucille. But dammit, it got the best of me! We got into a discussion on how she could so easily hand over a piece of us—” I pause as Lucille’s drink strangles her.
“You think what she did was easy?” She coughs, patting her chest as she speaks.
I shake my head, “No, not anymore. Originally, yes. I looked over all the pictures within the album, and in the last set of pictures, Lacy had grown so much … I didn’t understand how anyone, especially Allie, could keep a baby for that amount of time and then place her into the arms of a stranger.” I confess.
“She didn’t actually keep her. In fact, she didn’t keep her at all. Lacy was the Rubens’ since the moment she was born. Allie just nursed Lacy for her benefit, and because the Rubens asked her to,” she explains.
The Rubens? Allie mentioned that Lucille knew the family Lacy was adopted to, but this can’t be. “Wait, the Rubens? As in Dr. Ruben? As in the Dr. Ruben who gave me my results a few weeks back? That Dr. Ruben?” I interrogate.
Lucille pops her lips. “Yup, that’s the one. Wonderful man,” she admires.
I don’t give a flying motherfucking monkey how ‘wonderful’ he is. He has possession of something that belongs to me. Not something, someone. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” I seethe. I grab my keys from the table and slide out of the booth.
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think I’m going? To get my daughter!’
I storm through the doors and go to my Jeep. As I reach for the handle, Lucille’s boney fingers firmly circle my wrist. “Wyatt, you can’t go barging into the hospital and—”
“T
o hell I can’t. I can and I will,” I promise.
“He’s her father, Wyatt. You can’t demand he return her when she doesn’t even belong to you, legally.”
“He IS NOT her father,” I hiss.
“You’re right. You’re her father. He’s her daddy; there’s a difference. You had a hand in making her, not raising her. Lacy isn’t a piece of clothing you let someone borrow and take back when you want it. She’s a little girl who’ll be destroyed if you come in like a human hurricane and take her away from her family.”
“I am her family, Goddammit! Why can’t you or Allie see that I’m her daddy? She’s my little girl. The fact that I didn’t know about her isn’t my fault; it’s yours,” I spit.
“My fault? How is that, Wyatt, huh? You’re the only person responsible for your irrational decision-making. You made the choice to leave. Not me, Kyle, or Allie—you. Learn how to take responsibility for your own actions, and stop lashing out at everyone else,” she retorts.
I pry Lucille’s fingers from my wrist and hop into my Jeep. I immediately fire up the engine and back out of the parking spot, not even looking to see if anyone or anything’s behind me as I pull out. I haul ass to Onslow. I slam my Jeep in park and invade the ER. I head over to the frail-framed woman sitting behind the desk and demand someone get me Dr. Ruben. She picks up her phone and pages for Dr. Ruben or his nurse to call her extension. It takes all of three minutes for someone to return her page and inform her that Dr. Ruben isn’t on duty. “When will he be in?” I ask.
“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s information I’m not allowed to disclose,” she begins. “There are other physicians able to help you if you’re having an emergency,” she adds. Little does she know, this is an emergency, just not one that any physician can attend to? Shit! I can’t help but lose control and kick the desk in front of me out of frustration, causing the woman flinch.
Quickly, I turn on my heels and stride across the waiting room. Once I’m outside, I tread across the parking lot and hop back inside my Jeep. I pound my fist against the dashboard and let out every curse word in my vocabulary. I curse Allie for giving Lacy up for adoption, Lucille for letting me be face-to-face with the man playing daddy with my princess, and I curse Kyle for making the decision that ruined my life so many years ago. Most of all, I curse myself for making such an irrational decision. I don’t regret keeping him alive all those years or following him into the military; instead, I hate myself for listening to him and not telling Allie. If only he would’ve listened to me and let me tell her, I wouldn’t be in this predicament. I wouldn’t be chasing Allie or searching for Lacy; we’d be a family.