Some Other Child

by Buchbinder, Sharon

  “For me?” She put her arms around him and gave him a fierce hug. He hugged her back and just as she turned her face up for a kiss—her phone rang. The Caller ID showed Baltimore County.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I think I’d better take this.”

  “Where are you? I need to talk to you,” Officer Mike said.

  “I have nothing to say to you except this: Go to hell!”

  Dan stared at Sarah. “Who is it?”

  “Watch your language,” Officer Mike said.

  “Watch yourself. I trusted you, Mike. You put me in jail. What kind of justice is that?”

  “I need to speak with you in person.”

  “Sarah---” Dan said.

  “Get a court order or arrest me.” Sarah shouted. “This is harassment. I told you my aunt was missing and you did nothing, except say she was an adult. The next thing I know you’re accusing me of murdering her. Have you looked for her housekeeper, or the creep in the white van that tried to run me down? What about the people who tried to drown me?”

  She took a long shuddering breath.

  “You’ve done nothing, nothing, and nothing. It was easier to pin the supposed murder on me. So, forgive me if I don’t trust you.”

  “Dr. Wright---”

  “I’m in mourning. Don’t bother me.”

  Sarah slammed the phone shut, leaned her back against the door, slid to the floor, and sobbed.

  Dan knelt down in front of her, lifted her chin, and looked her in the eyes. “You should have let him talk to you, Sarah.”

  She pulled away and glared at him. “I thought you were on my side. Are you against me, too?”

  “No, but you don’t seem to be thinking clearly,” he said. “Next time, see what he has to say before you start yelling.”

  “You’re a great Monday-morning quarterback, Dan.”

  He looked stung. “What are you talking about?”

  “You always have a better way to do something. No matter what, I can’t ever do anything right, can I? But you, Mr. Perfect, you have the One Right Way. Your way. Maybe it’s time we just accept the fact that I’ll never be good enough for you. Go ahead. Walk out. It’s what you’re good at.”

  “I’m a perfectionist? How about you, Ms. Control Freak? Your life is completely unmanageable and there’s nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can control is you. Not your mother, not Aunt Ida, not the police, not the criminals. You and I are a lot more alike than you want to believe. We both want it our way, because we’re smart, and we think we know what’s right.”

  Sarah opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, he pulled her into his chest and kissed her hard on the lips.

  When she pulled away, he said, “I am not leaving you. You can kick, scream, shove, and push me away all you want, but I’m not going anywhere. We have a second chance to make things right in our lives. How many people can say that? We’ll get through this. Together.”

  She collapsed into his arms and sobbed. “I’m sorry, so sorry.”

  “Shh,” he said and held her tight.

  The cats climbed onto her lap, and Winston leaned against her.

  “Dan?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m squished. Can you help me up?” As Dan helped her to her feet she sniffled and said, “I really missed you. I even missed our fights.”

  “I missed making up,” he said sliding his arms around her waist. “Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?”

  She pulled on his tie and began walking backward toward the bathroom.

  “Let’s start by getting this thing off. Then, if you don’t mind helping me get undressed, I’ll see what I can do about that.”

  She pulled his shirt out of his pants and began to unbutton it.

  “To hell with that,” he said and yanked the shirt over his head, buttons popping off in every direction.

  She worked at his belt and zipper while he unbuttoned her blouse.

  “Careful of the neck,” she said. “It’s still tender.”

  He stroked her hair, “I promise to be gentle with your neck. But the rest of your body’s going to get a work-out.” He nibbled at her shoulder, and began kissing his way down to the base of her neck.

  “Time to take this off.”

  Her bra fell away, and his lips bounced moved her breasts. “Eeny.” Kiss. “Meeny.” Lick. “Miny.” Nip. “Moe!” His lips landed on her left nipple. He licked and sucked her breast while his hands stroked her back.

  Sarah gasped as his hands slid between her legs.

  “Get out of those pants so I can torture you for a while.”

  “Oh, I like this new side of you,” he said, giving her nipple a playful bite. “Do you have a little whip to go with that attitude?”

  “What do you say we take this party to the shower?”

  Sarah closed her eyes as Dan drizzled shampoo on her hair, then massaged her scalp with long, slow, firm strokes. His fingers traced soap bubbles down her neck to the base of her throat, and rubbed lazy circles around her nipples.

  She returned his caresses with increasingly firm strokes on his back, then his buttocks, and between his legs. He moaned as she fondled his penis. Up then down. Up again. He stilled her moving hand and pulled her in for a long hard kiss, pressing his erection between her legs. He slid deep inside her and stopped moving.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I want to enjoy the moment.”

  He pressed his lips onto hers, his tongue deep in her mouth. It felt like all the air was sucked out of the steamy shower stall room. He stayed still, holding onto her until she couldn’t take it any longer.

  “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop!”

  At last, he resumed his long, slow love-making, each stroke driving her further up the spiral of passion until she climaxed and shuddered to a halt. Weak-kneed, she fell against his chest and gasped for air.

  “I can’t move,” she said. “You’ve ruined me for all other men—again!”

  He toweled her off, kissed her shoulders and back, then kissed each tender scrape and bruise on her body. As he turned her to face him, he kissed her breasts and kissed his way down to her belly-button, pushing her against the sink. He lifted her up on the counter, leaned her back against the mirror, and pressed his face between her legs.

  He licked her thighs, teasing his way upward, making slow circuits, playing with her, until she yanked his head down, and whispered hoarsely, “If you don’t take care of me right now, I’m going to scream my lungs out.”

  They made love all morning. They spoke about the time apart, and the void in their lives that hadn’t been filled by anyone else.

  Dan was the first one to use the “L” word.

  Sarah sobbed, telling him over and over again how sorry she was that she had driven him away and that she couldn’t bear to lose him again.

  He kissed her tears away and made slow, gentle love to her. When they came together, she screamed, “I love you!”

  As he fell back on his pillow, panting, he said, “Could you repeat that please? I don’t think the guy in the next building heard you.”

  A sudden pounding on the wall next to the bed let them know someone had heard them.

  Dan responded by banging the headboard with his fist.

  Sarah put her face in the pillow, laughing until she was forced to come up for air.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you, and I’m not letting you out of my life again,” she said and gave him a playful jab in the belly.

  “Oh, that’s good, because I thought I’d have to handcuff you to me to prevent you from escaping again,” he said. “Oops. Sorry, bad choice of words.”

  She kissed the tip of his nose and said, “I have no plans to escape.” She glanced over at the clock. “Oh my God! I have to get over to Shady Rest.”

  “I thought you’d want to get out of your jail house outfit, so I ran by Nordstrom’s and picked you up a change of clothes.”

/>   “I think I’ll keep you.”

  * * * *

  “Now you can tell all your friends, Rivah,” Sarah said as Rivah stared at her with her mouth agape. Sarah and Dan headed towards Ms. Evans’ office dodging dietary staff with meal trays. Ms. Evans was working at her computer, looking as elegant as always. Sarah tapped on her door and introduced Dan.

  “Ah, Dr. Wright. I see you’re out from under your emergency.”

  “Yes. I made bail, if that’s what you mean.”

  “What?”

  “It’s okay. Let me summarize for you. The police found Aunt Ida’s finger in my freezer. I was arrested for her murder, which, by the way, I did not commit. I spent the night in cell with a drunken, amorous lesbian biker. I was set upon by a pack of media hyenas. Through the efforts of two outstanding attorneys, the Pit Bull and Sol Weinstein, I made bail to the tune of one million dollars. Now, here’s the punch line.”

  “Ms. Wright---”

  Dan grabbed her arm, “Sarah, you’re doing it again!”

  She shook Dan’s hand off her arm. “No, wait, you have to hear this. My mother and I are the sole heirs of my aunt’s multimillion-dollar estate. So, while you may be concerned an alleged murderer has arrived at Shady Rest just in time for dinner, you can rest assured that every penny of my mother’s care will be paid. How do you like that news?”

  “I had no idea,” Ms. Evans said.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Sarah, you have to calm down,” Dan said.

  “You mean you haven’t been watching TV or reading the newspapers?”

  “I’m so overwhelmed with work I haven’t read a paper in weeks,” Ms. Evans said. “The television gathers dust in my home.”

  “I feel like a total jerk. Please forgive me,” Sarah said and covered her face with her hands. She didn’t have a chip on her shoulder. It was a log.

  “I tried to tell you, Sarah,” Dan said. “You may feel like everyone’s staring at you, but they’re not.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “She’s having a rough time, Ms. Evans.”

  Ms. Evans gave her a compassionate look. “The papers can wait.”

  “No. I want my mother all squared away, just in case there are any other crises in my life,” Sarah said. “I want her cared for even if I’m not around to do it. At least now she can afford to have the coma stimulation program.”

  “She’s being well taken care of by our nursing staff. Mr. Weinstein’s secretary called and said he’d take care of everything. He sent copies of your guardianship papers over to us, so all we need is your signature on some forms.”

  Dan squeezed her hand, “It sounds like Sol’s taking care of everything for you. You can take a breather.”

  “You’ll get to meet my mother,” Sarah said. “She’s not very talkative right now, but that could be a good thing.”

  Sarah took care of the paperwork and went to visit her mother and Elizabeth.

  “Hey, ladies. Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

  “Who?” Elizabeth asked.

  “An old friend,” Sarah said. “Dan, this is Elizabeth Woods.”

  “I can’t see you, Dan. Come over and take my hand,” Elizabeth said. “Smooth hands, long fingers. Are you a surgeon?”

  “Wow, that’s impressive,” Dan said. “Vascular surgery.”

  “Good guess. Your hands are too soft for manual labor, and Sarah’s in the medical field.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  “I think it’s time you met my mother,” Sarah said and pulled the privacy curtain aside. Despite the feeding tube, her mother appeared normal, as if she was sleeping and not in a coma. Rosy color bloomed in her cheeks and she breathed in a natural rhythm. Sarah sat in the chair beside the bed and took her mother’s hand. It was warm. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Dan. Dan, this is my mother.” Her mother’s hand jerked. “I guess you wonder where the heck I’ve been. It’s a long story, but hey, you’ve got some time on your hands.”

  She told her mother about Aunt Ida and the arrest while Dan held Sarah’s hand and squeezed it from time to time.

  “You know what, Mom? The most amazing thing to me was people’s reactions to me after the arrest. The people I trusted most turned their backs on me. The people I expected to be least supportive were right there for me. I guess this is God’s way of showing us who our real friends are.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” Elizabeth called from the other bed. “When we found out Mitzi was developmentally delayed, they called it ‘feeble-minded’ in those days, a lot of our so-called friends disappeared. Having trouble in your life sure clears out all the suckers, but the ones who stay are good as gold, like my sister-in-law, Bernice.”

  “She’s very kind,” Sarah said and stood up and went over to Elizabeth’s bedside.

  “Yes, she’s been a wonderful to me and to Mitzi. Diabetes is taking its toll on me. My kidneys are bad, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last. I’m worried about Mitzi. Bernice isn’t getting any younger, either, even though she won’t admit it. I wish I could be sure Mitzi would be taken care of when I’m gone.” Elizabeth was crying.

  Sarah handed her a tissue from the box on the nightstand, picked up the framed photograph of Mitzi, and held it so Dan could see it, too. “Mitzi needs a fairy godmother.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elizabeth almost smiled at Sarah’s choice of words. How many years now had she lived thinking the same thing? Fifty? Sixty? A lifetime. As soon as she had realized the extent of Mitzi’s illness, an anvil of guilt and regret had been placed around her neck. Regret that she had stolen a defective baby. But she loved Mitzi.

  Guilty that she felt regret over stealing a sick infant. The irony of it all. She should have just left the baby there. Her need to have a child had overridden all her moral upbringing and professional training, like some irresistible animal instinct. She had paid the price of her choice over and over again.

  After she had seen the specialist at Hopkins, she had gone home in a state of panic. Her wish to have a baby was fulfilled, only to find out the child was damaged, infected with syphilis. Telling her husband was unthinkable. The only thing she could do was treat the baby herself. Thanks to his military connections, John had ample quantities of that new wonder drug, penicillin, right there in his office. He had patients lining up to be treated for everything from hammertoe to cellulitis. His practice had taken off, and his stockpile was so large, he never even noticed the missing bottle, needle, and syringe. She knew how to sharpen the needle and inject medications. It wasn’t any different from when she’d worked in the hospital.

  But the mother was another story.

  Had she ever been told she was infected? Using the cover of a unit nurse’s reunion at GWU, she had spent a week at the Washington, D.C. hospital, bribing medical records librarians to search for the mother’s name, address, anything so she could track her down. She wasn’t sure how she’d do it, but somehow she would let her know, make amends. Yes, she’d make the ultimate sacrifice and return the child. She had found Ida’s full name and address at the time of birth, but had hit a dead end at the Florence Crittendon Home. The matron had slammed the door on her face after telling her the records were closed.

  Elizabeth went home, held the baby, and cried herself to sleep, crushed with the burden of her multilayered sin. She turned to God and prayed for his help. When nothing came of her prayers, she decided that these were the wages of her sins and that she must pay the dues.

  Until the morning she picked up the Baltimore Sun and saw the marriage announcement of Ida Mae Jacobs and Jack Katz, a builder in Pikesville.

  “John, I think it’s time we moved to the suburbs,” Elizabeth said at breakfast. “I’m tired of city life. Crime rates are rising. It’s noisy. The air is full of smoke.”

  “Where did you have in mind? I’m feeling crowded here, too,” he said.

  “How about Pikesville? I see there’s a restricted development going in
there, called Colonial Village.”

  “A restricted community? I won’t live anyplace that doesn’t allow Jews and Negroes. I worked with some fine physicians who were Jewish and met some of those great Tuskegee fliers during the war. No. I won’t abide that.”

  “Oh, of course,” she said, knowing full well his feelings. “ I read that another builder is working out there. His name is Katz.”

  “A Jew? That’s more like it. I’ll make the call. I need new office space, too.”

  “John?”

  “Hmmm?” He sipped his coffee and read the paper.

  “Do you think your sister, Bernice, would like to live out there? I know you two are close and she’s been so wonderful with Mitzi, I’d love to have her with us.”

  He put his coffee cup down.

  “Let me meet with Katz first. After that, I’ll take a look at our finances and see if I can afford a second house for my sister. I love Bernice, but I don’t think she should live with us. A couple has to have some privacy.”

  John came home with a big smile on his face and a signed contract for two houses on the same plot of land, side by side. “Jack drove a hard bargain, but so did I, Little Mother!”

  Elizabeth hugged John and had cried for joy—almost forgetting the original reason why she wanted to move out of the city. As the Woods settled into the new homes, Elizabeth’s urge to divulge her burning secret faded.

  “It’s God’s will,” she whispered at night to Mitzi. “I was chosen to be your mother.”

  Two weeks after they moved into the new house, the doorbell rang.

  A tiny woman with long black hair falling in waves and curls over her shoulders stood on the front porch. Her aqua blue dress had a full skirt and a plunging neckline, showing ample cleavage.

  She smiled and said, “Hello, Mrs. Woods. I’m Ida Mae Katz. Welcome to the neighborhood!”

  Elizabeth’s world shimmered and shuddered to a halt. She took a deep breath.

  “What a surprise!” Elizabeth said. She trembled as she took the heavy basket out of Ida’s hands. “Won’t you come in? Things are still in boxes, but I think we can find the kitchen table.”