by Jane Charles
We follow them out, but walk slower. It’s as if Mrs. Cross would run if she could.
“Are you okay?” Alex asks quietly.
And with those words, a dam breaks loose. He pulls me to a corner and wraps his arms around me as I sob into his shoulder. A world of emotion, and it’s impossible to settle on one. Sadness that she’s not mine. A love I hadn’t experienced since the first time I held her, pain at her being taken away, worry because she’s so ill, and anger that she can’t be mine.
I was being hopeful for Kelsey, until Dr. Prescott wanted to talk to her alone. If I was her husband, I could have stayed. Now I’m on edge, but I need to be calm for Kelsey.
I’m also pissed. All Kelsey wanted was a few moments with her daughter, but Mrs. Cross glared at her with such distrust. What the hell was the woman afraid of? Kelsey wasn’t a danger to Brandy.
What harm could have been done if Kelsey would have had a few more moments with the child? She wasn’t going to try and take her or confess who she was, and it pisses me off that Kelsey was treated as if she was lower than nothing.
There’s nobody else in the waiting room so I plug in my ear buds, click my playlist then grab a magazine. I’m halfway through the first song, not really reading anything when the door opens.
It’s Mrs. Cross and Brandy. Actually, the little girl is named Madison, but I can’t make myself call her that. She is Brandy to Kelsey, so that is what she is to me.
I lower my eyes and concentrate on the magazine as I turn off the music. I probably shouldn’t eavesdrop, but this is Kelsey’s daughter.
They stop by the front desk.
“How are you doing Madison?” the receptionist asks. Or, maybe she’s a nurse.
“Okay.” The voice is tiny, quiet, without energy.
“Did you have your blood drawn?”
“Yes.” From my peripheral vision I can see Brandy hold up her skinny little arm. There’s a bandage on the inside of the elbow with a cotton ball taped against the skin.
“These are the admission papers, Mrs. Cross. You just need to take them to the fourth floor, east wing.”
“Not pediatrics?” Mrs. Cross asks.
“We’d like to keep her isolated, with the other transplant patients, before moving her.”
Transplant? Is Kelsey able to give Brandy, or Madison, stem cells?
“But first, the doctor would like me to weigh Madison and give her a quick exam.”
“Is Dr. Prescott with anyone?” Mrs. Cross asks hesitantly. It’s almost like I can feel her eyes on me, but I don’t look up from the magazine and turn a page.
“He is with someone.”
“Let’s try and keep my daughter away from anyone else.”
Her voice is cold and hard and if I didn’t want to know what was going on so badly, I’d call her out.
They disappear through a door and once I’m alone again, I toss the magazine back on the table and yank the ear buds out. What a fucking bitch! I get that she is worried for her daughter, but I’m still pissed at the way she treated Kelsey. Without Kelsey, Mrs. Cross wouldn’t even have her daughter.
Kelsey steps out a few moments later, her face is drawn and shoulders slumped. Whatever she and Dr. Prescott talked about was not good.
“The only way I could ever give Brandy blood is if my tattoo was done in New Jersey and this hospital was there too.”
“Why?”
“Because their laws for tattoos are tighter than anywhere else. And, even though your work was done by those standards, the laws are different in New York.”
“No exceptions?”
She just shakes her head. “I can in a year, but then it’ll either be too late, or I won’t be needed.” Tears spike in her eyes. “I just wanted to be able to do something for her. I feel so helpless not being able to give Brandy the one thing she needs most.”
“You couldn’t have known.” I swipe a tear from her cheek. “Why couldn’t he have told you that on the phone?”
“He wants to know if I’d be willing to donate in the future, if I don’t get any more tattoos. My blood type is rare, and he hopes I’d still be willing to give blood and marrow if needed. He was afraid I’d only be willing if it was for Brandy.”
“What did you tell him?”
Kelsey looks up into my eyes and frowns. “Even if I can’t help my daughter, I’m not going to deny anyone else, especially if it is another child.”
“She’s not your daughter.”
We turn to find Mrs. Cross coming into the reception room, the door closing after her.
“I gave birth to her,” Kelsey answers.
“But, you gave her to me.”
“I’m very much aware of that fact, but I will never stop thinking of her as anything but my daughter.”
Mrs. Cross folds her arms over her chest. “Are you going to be difficult, Miss Fry?”
Kelsey frowns. “Difficult? I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”
“Except stay away from Madison.”
Kelsey tilts her head and studies the woman. “I didn’t even realize you were on the elevator when we stepped on.”
“You could have ignored me. Us.”
“You expected me to pretend the little girl I gave birth to wasn’t standing right next to me?”
“Of course not. But you didn’t need to talk to her.”
I’m getting pissed all over again. Kelsey did nothing wrong. “What harm was done?”
“If that elevator hadn’t opened when it did, plenty of harm.”
Kelsey gasps. “How?”
“You are not to have contact with her, yet you got right down there and talked to her, as if you had a right. Who knows what else you would have said given the time?”
“I would have never told her the truth. I made that promise, and I wouldn’t break it.”
“You also made a promise never to contact her, yet you broke that easy enough.”
“I didn’t know you were there,” Kelsey practically yells.
“Please!” the receptionist hisses at us from the desk.
“I apologize,” Kelsey says after a moment. “I broke the rules. It will not happen again.” With that she turns and marches out of the office. I want to give Mrs. Cross a piece of my mind, but Kelsey is so fragile right now that I don’t want to leave her alone for a minute.
If Mrs. Cross has it her way, Brandy will never know me, or anything about me. I get it. I really do, but I didn’t tell her anything. I just had a little chat. A really short chat, and I wanted so much more. I still do. Having her pulled away from me in the elevator was nearly as painful as when the nurse took her from my arms right after she was born. I didn’t think I could experience that pain again. It’s tearing me apart inside, leaving a gaping, hollow hole, reopening an old wound. One that will never be filled.
My chest aches with the need to hold her close and feel her small head against my heart again.
As soon as we got home I headed up to my room and closed the door. It’s not that I don’t want Alex around, but he wants to fix this somehow. This cannot be fixed. At least, not right now.
I told Alex that I wanted to just lie down, and he reluctantly let me go. I’m sure he’s explaining to the guys what happened. It’s better he does because I don’t think I could talk about today.
The pink box is at the side of my bed. I never put it up last night, but I should. Instead, I take it onto the bed with me and open the lid. So many letters. My heart is in those letters, but I doubt Brandy will ever read them. Not if Mrs. Cross has her way.
But, that is not going to stop me from writing. I have to have hope that one day I will meet my little girl and she will know who I am, and maybe, just maybe, she’ll forgive me. And today, I’m going to write about meeting her in the elevator, and maybe, if she ever reads these, she’ll remember that meeting.
I almost don’t answer when there’s a hesitant knock at my door, but if I don’t, they’ll just come on in. Besides, I know it’s Alex. He’
s worried about me, and I get that. “Come in,” I finally call out as I fold the letter and put it in an envelope.
Instead of Alex, it’s Christian.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
His hands are in his pockets and he’s looking at me all sheepishly. “I need your help.”
How could I possible help him? “What do you need?”
“We have studio time this afternoon, and Jake can’t make it.”
“Can’t you reschedule?” I know nothing about his music other than what Christian has told me.
He thrusts his fingers through his hair. “If we cancel, we’ll be charged the full thing anyway. What sucks is they’ll fill the spot with another band, making double the money.”
“Why can’t Jake be there?” I don’t know who Jake is or why Christian is even telling me any of this, unless Alex sent him upstairs to get my mind off of Brandy and what happened today.
“His girlfriend wants him home, with her and her family for a post-Christmas celebration.” Christian snorts and shakes his head. “I get the girlfriend and all that, but we all put money down for the studio time that we can’t get back. She knows that but doesn’t care.”
“How can I help? Do you want me to go drag him away from the girlfriend?” I laugh.
“I want you to play the keyboards.”
My heart stops. “Jake plays the piano?”
“Yep!” Christian frowns. “I talked to the guys, and we don’t want to be out the money or the time, so if you could learn the song, you’ll play and Jake will lose out.”
I’m shaking my head before I speak. “Oh, no. I don’t think so. That’s not my thing.”
“Please Kelsey.” Christian sits on my bed. “I didn’t want to do this in the first place. I told you I wanted to wait until we had more songs, but the place was booked anyway, and I sure as hell don’t want to be out the money either.”
“Kate can play,” I blurt out.
“But, you already kind of know the song.”
I frown at him. “I’m pretty sure I don’t.”
“We played it the other day. When the other guys were giving blood.”
“You are recording that song?” It had a really sweet melody.
“Come on,” he practically begs. “It’ll be fun and it’ll teach Jake a lesson—that we can replace him if he pulls this shit again.” Christian grins. “And, you will be listed as an artist on the recording, not that asswipe.”
“No. Don’t list me. I’m not part of your group.” Besides, this is not something I ever wanted for myself. I just want to play and teach.
“You will be,” he insists. “You deserve the recognition and—”
“—It will teach Jake a lesson.” It isn’t like I have anything else to do today except feel sorry for myself. “Let me practice a bit, so I can be ready.”
I’ll sit here all night if I need to, and tomorrow if necessary. That woman has got to come out of Brandy’s room sooner or later.
I came to the hospital as soon as Kelsey and Christian left for the studio. I wish I could have been the one to get Kelsey’s mind off of things, but Christian’s idea was better. And, it isn’t like he didn’t really need her. It will keep her mind occupied and did for a few hours while she and Christian played the song in the living room.
I’ve tried not to hover, only because I don’t want her to know how pissed I still am.
What right did Mrs. Cross have to treat her so badly?
Maybe it’s just because it reminds me of when I was younger. A kid without a home or family, moving from foster home to foster home, being looked down on as not being good enough for anyone. A loser with no future. That is how Mrs. Cross treated Kelsey, as if she had no value and that her daughter might be tarnished somehow by coming into contact with the woman who actually gave birth to her.
Dylan told me to let it go, but Dylan wasn’t standing there and didn’t see the pain in Kelsey’s eyes or hold her when she cried.
So, here I sit, ready to give that woman a piece of my mind. The family waiting room is practically empty, but people have come and gone, except me. I’m not moving from my spot, which has a view of the hallway that leads straight to Brandy’s room as well as the one that comes from the elevators. That woman won’t be able to come or leave without me seeing her.
I glance at my phone. Visiting hours are over in about ten minutes, but that doesn’t mean Mrs. Cross will leave. Don’t they make special rules for parents of small children?
What if they make me leave? That would suck, after sitting here for six hours. Of course, I’m only assuming Mrs. Cross is with her daughter. If she was any kind of mother, she’d not let her child be alone in a hospital room longer than necessary. At least that is what I assume. When I broke my ankle as a kid, parents were all over the place in the pediatric ward, leaving only to shower or get a bite to eat, and then spending the night in the fold out recliners. Everyone’s parents except mine. My foster parents would stop by in the evening, but only stay for half an hour or so, then leave again. I didn’t mind hanging out in my bed all alone. The nurses were nice, they had games I could play and a television to watch, and the food wasn’t half bad. I just resented the fact that my own mother wasn’t there to take care of me. I didn’t know then what she was doing, but now that I know that she was having sex to become a star, I’m pissed all over again.
The lights dim for a second and there’s a soft ding out in the hallway. Visiting hours are up, but I’m not moving from my spot. Not until someone makes me.
There’s movement at end of the hall. A bunch of people are leaving and I stand and walk toward the doorway. Then I see her. Our eyes lock, and she recognizes me immediately. Her lips purse, and Mrs. Cross strides toward me with determination.
“If Miss Fry thinks she can visit my daughter behind my back, she had better think again. I’ve already warned the nursing staff not to let anyone in Madison’s room if they aren’t on the medical staff, me or my husband.”
“Kelsey isn’t even here.”
She glances around. “Why are you?” Hate practically drips from her tongue.
“What is your deal?”
Mrs. Cross pulls back as if affronted.
“Madison would not even be yours if Kelsey hadn’t given her up. She’s not done anything to try and take your daughter away. All she did was speak with her in the elevator.”
“She knows she is not to have contact,” Mrs. Cross reminds me.
“And I ask you again. What harm was done? None!” I answer for her. “Kelsey got a chance to look in her daughter’s face, to speak with her, and then you yanked Madison away as if Kelsey was a leper.”
“I couldn’t risk her telling my daughter who she is.”
“She wouldn’t have.”
“How do you know?” Mrs. Cross demands.
“Because I know her and clearly you don’t.” I yell back and a few nurses glance in our direction.
We step back into the empty family room.
“All Kelsey has ever wanted was what is best for Madison. She’d move heaven and earth to be able to give her blood and marrow. She has always wanted what is best for Madison, which is why she gave her up in the first place.”
“A birth mother can have a change of heart. It happens all the time.”
“Not Kelsey.” I shove the pink box at her. “She will never go near your daughter again, but if she sees you on the street, or anywhere else, don’t expect her to ignore either of you. But, I can assure you, Kelsey will never tell Madison who she really is until you do.”
Mrs. Cross takes the box and looks down at it.
“Read those and then think long and hard before you try to deny Kelsey even a glimpse at Madison again.” I grab my coat from the chair. “And try not to be such a bitch next time.”
Panic like I’ve never experienced courses through me. Brandy’s pink box is gone. I thought I left it on the bed, but it wasn’t there when I got back from the studio. Nor is it in my c
loset or anywhere else in my room. I checked the back door that leads to the balcony and fire escape, but it’s locked. Though I can’t imagine anyone would break in just to steal a box of letters.
Then I asked the guys but they haven’t seen it either. Finally, I searched Alex’s room. An invasion of privacy, but I don’t care. I need to find the box.
Six years of letters. Ones that can’t be rewritten, are gone. Where the hell did they go?
I’m hoping Alex put them somewhere safe. A place I haven’t thought to look, but nobody knows where he is either.
Shit! Does he have them? But why the hell would he take them? They mean nothing to him. He had to have put them somewhere in the house. They have to be here.
“How’d the recording session go?” Alex asks as he comes up the stairs to my room.
“Where is my box of letters?”
He glances away and my heart stops.
“What did you do with them?” I demand.
“Gave them to Mrs. Cross.”
“You what?” I scream. I couldn’t have heard him right.
“Gave them to Mrs. Cross.” He steps up and comes closer, hands out.
I back away. Cold seeps into my veins at Alex’s betrayal of my trust. “Why the hell would you do that? Those were mine!” How could Alex betray me like this? He knows how important those letters are to me.
“She needed to know, Kelsey.”
“Needed to know what?” I scream.
“That you love Brandy and would never do anything to harm her.”
“She already fucking knows that.”
“Really?” his eyebrows go up. “You got that from the way she treated you today because I sure as hell didn’t.”
“That’s because she wasn’t expecting to see me. It’s in the contract. No contact ever.”
“Well, as far as I’m concerned, she broke the contract as soon as she asked for your blood and marrow.”
“That’s different. Brandy needed that from me.”
“And you needed a moment with your daughter.”
“I gave up that right!”