“Oh.” Her face fell into sympathetic lines. “Yeah, that’s right, I think someone told me that you were flying out there to see your family. I didn’t realize that’s where you were from. I thought you lived in the northeast somewhere before you came to Florida.”
“I did. Philadelphia.” I accepted the papers she handed to me. “But I grew up in California. And yes, it was odd to be outside Florida—turns out it’s late autumn in the rest of the world. Or the northern hemisphere, at least.”
“Someone should tell our ninety-degree temperatures here,” Gina laughed. “Well, at any rate, glad to have you back. Dr. Johanson did a great job filling in, by the way. Still, your patients missed you. Oh, and Dr. J mentioned that he thinks you’ve made some good changes since he retired—he was impressed. Told all of us in the front office that he knows you were the right person to take over for him, as if he hadn’t before now.”
This time, my smile was genuine. “Thank you, Gina. That’s all good to hear. I was grateful that Dr. Johanson could help me out this week, but I’ll admit that it’s wonderful to be back home.”
And it was. I’d spent two intense days with Daneen. While it had been painful to see her obvious deterioration—and after that first brief conversation about Lana and me, she never spoke of either of us again—I felt some peace knowing that she was in the right place, receiving the care she needed. The staff on her wing clearly liked her and were trained to deal with the ups and downs of what would be terminal dementia. The mental deterioration wouldn’t kill her, but the side effects—including the congenital heart failure—would probably lead to her death someday in the not too distant future.
Being in California had also given me the illusion of running away from reality. Staying at the hotel, interacting only with virtual strangers, there was no one to remind me of the impending life-changing decisions I was facing. I could pretend that I was still that fresh-out-of-med-school young woman, with nothing but potential ahead of me. It had been sweet relief after weeks of sleepless nights and stress-filled days as I tortured myself with all of the options before me.
When I’d landed in Tampa, I’d had a long voicemail on my phone from Emma, checking in and asking me if I needed anything. I knew that she truly cared, but I also realized that she was nudging me to make a decision and tell her what it was. I wondered if she’d seen Noah, and if so, had it been excruciating for her to keep my secret? I knew Emma well enough to trust that she’d never betray my confidence. But Noah was her best friend in so many ways, and I wouldn’t have put it past her to scold him for not calling me.
But when I returned her call after my first day back at the office, I discovered my worries were baseless.
“He’s still not calling me back. Not answering texts. And I am so pissed off.” Emma’s voice ground out her anger.
“Are you sure he’s okay? I mean, could he have had some kind of complication again and be back in the hospital?” I knew I was grappling for excuses here, but it wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibilities.
“Oh, I’m sure. I talked to his buddy Zeke again the other day.” Emma’s mad was taking on a life of its own the longer we spoke. I could practically feel her frustration. “He’s been going to physical therapy, so that’s one piece of good news. But he’s very selective about who he’s letting in his life, according to Zeke. And clearly, that doesn’t include me.”
I felt sorry for Emma. I knew her friendship with Noah was precious to her and that it must have been devastating to her that he was choosing to cut her out, to ignore her. But she had time to mend those fences. My window of opportunity for letting Noah know about his impending fatherhood—and for getting his input on decisions—was rapidly closing.
“Then I think I’m going to have to stop giving him the option of talking to me and just show up again.” I swallowed my nerves at the thought of knocking on Noah’s front door. “And this time, I won’t leave until someone opens the door. I don’t ever want him to be able to say that I didn’t try my damnedest to let him know I’m pregnant.” That phrase—I’m pregnant—was coming more easily these days. I wasn’t certain if I was just getting used to the idea or actually starting to get excited about it.
“I think you’re right. After all, you’ve been to his house. You know where he lives. So it would make sense for you to go to him. What’s that saying about the mountain and Mohammed?”
I snorted. “If the Mohammad won’t go to the mountain, then the mountain will go to Mohammad. I guess that makes me the mountain in this scenario, doesn’t it? Which may be apropos before long.”
Emma was quiet for a few seconds. “It sounds to me like you’ve come to a decision, Alison.”
“Maybe half of a decision.” I blew out a long sigh. “And maybe it was a decision I’d already made and just wasn’t ready to acknowledge, but yeah . . . I’m having the baby.” I laid one hand over my stomach almost unconsciously.
“Did your trip to California have anything to do with that?”
I propped my feet up on the kitchen chair opposite me and reached for my glass of water. Emma knew my history—or much of it, anyway—and I’d let her know why I was headed west. “Maybe. Daneen had this little pocket of . . . I don’t know, clear-mindedness? She didn’t know me, but she talked about Lana and me both. If she’s remembering this right—and I want to believe she is—Lana must have dug into my past a little. She didn’t find my birth mother, but she talked to some of her friends from around the time I was born, and she learned that my mother had planned to keep me. At the last minute, she changed her mind. That’s why there wasn’t any adoption in place.”
“That’s odd. Did Lana find out why she changed her mind?” Emma asked.
“Not definitively, but I guess a couple of her friends thought the father of the baby—me being the baby, of course—was mixed up in something dangerous, and my bio mother worried that I’d be at risk, too.” I let my head drop back and rolled my shoulders. “Maybe it’s all bullshit, you know? Something that Daneen’s damaged mind made up to give me some peace about my past.”
“That seems unlikely, Alison. Dementia doesn’t usually work that way, particularly if Daneen doesn’t recognize you now. But why wouldn’t Lana have told you all of this back then?”
“I have no clue.” I closed my eyes. “Unless . . . what if Lana really found out who my biological father was, and it turned out that he was a bad person? A criminal, a murderer—or even just someone who she perceived as dangerous? Maybe she was protecting me.”
“The same way you’d protect your baby, huh?” Emma’s voice was soft.
“Absolutely. No question about it.” I pushed myself up to sit straight. “Okay. So tomorrow I’m taking the bull by the horns and driving over to Noah’s house after my office hours. It’s my early day, so I should get there in the mid-afternoon.”
“Do you want me to go with you? I can probably clear some time at the hospital, especially if you go closer to the end of the day.”
“Thank you, but no. I need to do this on my own, and I don’t want Noah to feel like we’re ganging up on him. He’s already going to be defensive—or at least, I expect that he will be. It’ll be better if I go alone and explain everything.”
“All right.” Did I imagine it, or did Emma sound faintly relieved? I didn’t blame her. I wasn’t looking forward to breaking this news, either. “But you’ll call me afterwards and tell me how it went?”
“Definitely.” I rubbed my forehead, already feeling the beginning of a tension headache there. “Wish me luck, Emma. I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
* * *
