Nikki Logan - Maybe Baby - One Small Miracle

Anna felt herself flushing, feeling almost as guilty as if she’d accepted any of Bill’s many offers to have dinner, coffee or watch a DVD together. ‘I didn’t ask you to break any laws in getting here,’ she snapped, exasperated and uncomfortably aware that her pleading tone over the phone had been its own request to a take-charge kind of man like Jared. ‘I haven’t broken any laws either. Taking Melanie to Jarndirri in no way constitutes … abduction. We have the mother’s written permission to look after her for a few weeks.’

‘Will you just tell me how the kid got here?’ He spoke with a frown, with an exaggerated kind of patience that made her flush—and stop beating around the bush. She answered him in a crisp, cool voice that hid her defensiveness.

‘Rosie came to me last night. She’s been struggling to cope since she had the baby. But she’s just been diagnosed with postnatal depression. She wants me to mind Melanie for a few weeks while she gets help.’

‘Hasn’t she got any family?’ Now the tone was leashed; she felt the impatience straining from him. Wanting to know why—and what it had to do with him—but he must have picked up on her reluctance to tell the story all at once. Felt her longing to run, hard and fast, at the same time she yearned to look after a baby, even if it would never be her own.

‘Her ex-boyfriend disappeared when she began showing, told her he had a wife and kids he’d already left. He didn’t like being a father. He’d hooked up with her because she was a medical student, and wouldn’t want kids for years. And her mother—remember Maggie?’ she repeated with emphasis.

‘Yes. What about her?’

Anna gritted her teeth, hearing that exaggerated patience again, the reluctance in listening, wanting her to get to the point. To Jared a story was just a vehicle to him finding the solution, and drawing it out with unnecessary hesitation or embellishment was useless.

Just as well I didn’t want to become a writer, she thought wryly, before she answered. ‘Rosie doesn’t remember her father, and you know how Maggie was so intensely proud of Rosie being at university and becoming a doctor. She hates that Rosie chose to give up her medical studies and come home to have the baby. She threw her out and though she only lives an hour from here, she hasn’t even seen Melanie. If Rosie leaves Melanie with Maggie, she’s afraid the mother will use her depression as an excuse to get Child Services involved, or try to put the baby up for adoption.’

‘Nice woman,’ was his only comment, with a world of dryness. Hiding what they were both thinking. Some people would give anything to have a beautiful, healthy baby, and she only sees it as a hindrance.

‘The train leaves in forty minutes. I need to wake Rosie right now if she’s going to make it. The point is, Rosie wants me to take the baby to Jarndirri for the few weeks she’s gone—away from her mother’s influence, and interference by the ex if he knew,’ she said in a rush. ‘We don’t have much time. Will you do it?’

He looked at her for a long time, and Anna wanted to squirm. After all these months of him coming here, demanding she return home or seducing her into it, she’d thought—hoped—

‘Go wake her. I’ll meet her and make up my mind,’ was all he said. His face was expressionless as always, and she wished for the hundredth time that she could see or feel anything from him—anything at all. That he could actually talk to her and say anything so she’d know this enigma she’d lived beside for half her life, the husband she still didn’t know.

Squelching the hurt for the hundredth time, she turned and walked to the spare room.

And she ran back into the kitchen a minute later, panting, ‘She’s gone. Everything’s gone!’

‘What?’

‘She’s done a runner,’ Anna said helplessly. ‘She’s left the baby, given her to me.’

‘SHE’S left the baby to me,’ Anna repeated, hearing the dazed note in her voice—but it didn’t sound as completely poleaxed as she felt right now. She’s left the baby to me …

Jared stared, slowly blinked, frowned and then shook his head. ‘No way. That only happens in movies and novels.’

‘Well, it’s happened to me now.’ Not knowing what to think, still lost in the shock of it all, she thrust the letter she’d found lying on the spare bed at him. ‘And it’s happened to you, too.’

He opened the note, and, unable to believe it still, Anna followed each word from behind his shoulder.

I’m so sorry, Anna, Mr West. I can’t do this anymore—I have to stop fooling myself. When you left to get Mr West, Anna, I knew it was my fault Mr West was in trouble. I knew I’d brought trouble on you both. Then I looked at Melanie, and knew I’d only screw up her life, too. I want to finish university, become a doctor. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I’m only twenty. I’m not qualified for anything, and I don’t even have a settled home. I can’t give Melanie the life she deserves, and I want to be free to follow my dreams.

I’m going to get help for the depression, and if I still feel the same way when I’m better, I’m applying to return to university next semester. I’ll contact you again in a month. Please don’t call Child Services or the police, not yet. I’m asking you to take my little girl somewhere safe for a few weeks while I get help. I don’t want my mother to get rid of her or give her to strangers. Melanie loves you already, Anna. Jarndirri would be a wonderful place for her to grow up. Will you take care of my little girl?

PS: I’ll stay until I hear your car return, and know Melanie’s safe. Tell her that her mummy really loves her.

Anna saw the wetness of tears fallen over the PS, and closed her eyes.

‘It’s unsigned,’ was all he said after a long silence in which Anna could hear her heart beating, feel the blood pounding in her throat and wrists.

Lost in the emotion of the note, the soul-deep loss she could so readily identify with, Anna tilted her head. ‘So?’

He didn’t answer, but the frown between his brows was so deep it made a grooved V. ‘We should call Tom Hereford, get his legal opinion, before we do anything.’

Fighting the rising of panic like water from a burst dam, she nodded. She took the phone from its cradle and thrust it at him. She couldn’t speak coherently to Tom, Jarndirri’s lawyer, if her life depended on it.

Jared punched in the number, got through to Tom in moments—an account like Jarndirri was too lucrative to lose—and told the lawyer everything, while Anna shifted from foot to foot and dug crescents in her palms with her nails.

‘Okay, Tom, thanks for that. Yes, be in touch soon. Goodbye.’

He turned to her, his eyes flat. ‘In Tom’s opinion, chances are that, with the mother’s permission to take Melanie, we’d have the upper hand over anything Maggie claims, since she can’t prove she’s cared for the child in any way. But he said get to Jarndirri as quickly and quietly as we can. He said he’d never want to go up against Maggie Foster. Apparently she sued Rosie’s father when he left, for all he was worth, and fought until the man was bankrupted. But in the eyes of the law, either with or without a signature, Rosie is Melanie’s mother. Her wishes, in writing, will be seen as legal and binding, since she named us both. But our case is only strong as long as they believe we’re together.’

Though she knew he was telling the truth, she felt her teeth grind together. Her nod felt curt, graceless, even though this was why she’d called him.

‘They’re not going to believe a pretty show, Anna. They’d have to have compelling evidence that we’ve reunited—and not just for the baby’s sake. If Maggie finds out we have her and decides she wants her grandchild, she’d have a stronger claim than ours. And she’d go down fighting all the way.’