Roz Fox - The Seven Year Secret

“Please don’t argue like this in front of Liddy Bea,” Dahl cautioned. “She’s recovering nicely from last week’s surgery. Being only six, she may not totally comprehend the significance of what it means to have lost her donor kidney. All the same, her emotions are fragile.”

Connor clasped Claire’s hand. “This situation has us all stressed. Claire and I will be mindful of what we say, won’t we, darling?”

She blinked several times. When she opened her eyes, they were filmy. Still, she nodded. “I am upset. I’ll let Connor do the talking.”

That seemed to satisfy Dr. Dahl. He escorted the couple to the lobby. After pointing out the gift shop, he gave them Lydia’s floor and room number. “Connor, nice meeting you. Understand, my hands are tied until you phone my office and give the go-ahead to schedule preliminary tests.”

“Claire and I will talk tonight. I’ll phone your office tomorrow.”

“Good. Enjoy your visit with Liddy Bea. She’s a normal six-year-old in every way except for her nonfunctional kidneys. Oh, and she’s a regular authority when it comes to Blue’s Clues, and Hello Kitty.”

When Connor was obviously stumped by that, Dahl laughed. “Blue is a cartoon dog. Hello Kitty is a cat logo that appears on almost every type of little-girl merchandise imaginable. Liddy Bea loves books and videos, too.”

“Thanks,” Connor called as the doctor quickened his pace and left them.

Claire entered the gift shop first. She picked up a white bear sprouting angel wings and a glittery halo. Its hard body was hidden by layers of a frothy net covered in glitter.

Connor reached for a floppy-eared pink elephant. “Squeeze this,” he told Claire. “He’s huggable, don’t you think?”

“Okay if she was three. First-graders are more sophisticated. Angels are the in thing, Connor. I recommend buying this.”

He continued to eye the elephant he put back on the shelf.

“Trust me. My cousin Pam has a daughter who’s seven. Her room is filled with angel junk.”

“What do I know about little girls?” Taking the angel bear to the counter, Connor paid for it and asked the cashier to remove the price. “We’re delivering this to someone upstairs.”

Purchase complete, they walked to the elevator and rode upstairs. The closer they came to Liddy’s room, the more Connor hung back. Eventually they reached her half-shut door. “Show time,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. Pinning on a nervous smile, he stepped into his daughter’s room.

A pixielike child with russet Shirley Temple curls reclined on a bed framed by a battery of beeping monitors. She gazed at him from eyes exactly like the ones that stared back at him each morning from his bathroom mirror. Connor’s stomach heaved, and something seemed to tear inside his chest. He wanted to burn this image into his brain—and then run like hell.

Instead, he moved closer to the bed. Up to now, he’d thought his most important contribution to mankind was his hurricane-detection system. How wrong he was. This beautiful child made every other accomplishment pale in significance. She looked part imp, part angel, with an unruly mop of dark curls bobbing around a swollen face. Dr. Dahl had warned them Liddy would appear puffy from having returned to steroids. To Connor, she looked absolutely perfect.

The child stared openly back at him, her lips quirked in a slightly crooked smile also reminiscent of his own. The coy way she cocked her head reminded him of a younger Mallory. As his child’s features coalesced before him, Connor’s memory flew back to the day he’d first met Liddy Bea’s mother.

Suddenly, another thought crowded in, refueling his anger at her for keeping his daughter a secret from him for six long years of her life—and nearly seven of his. He’d never hear Liddy’s first coo. Never see her crawl, or take that all-important first step. He’d missed her first words. So many milestones gone. Lost to him forever. And why? Why had Mallory cut him out?

Liddy rose on one elbow. Her other arm was taped to an IV drip. “Hi. I’m Lydia Beatrice Forrest. I don’t know you, so you’ve probably got the wrong room. I can ring a nurse. She’ll help you find where you want to be.”

Connor rallied. “Thanks. Actually, uh…we came to see you. I’m Connor and this is Claire. I’m an…old friend of your mom’s. I’ve been away a long time, but I’m back visiting Tallahassee. Your grandpa said you could probably use some company. So here we are,” he finished, sounding as if he’d run a fast mile.

The child’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, good. I love comp’ny.” She settled back.

“The bear,” Claire muttered, jabbing Connor.

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot.” He produced the bear, which Liddy instantly shied away from. “Go ahead, take it. Claire picked it out.”

Liddy frowned and shook her head until her curls danced. “Angels took my grandmas to heaven. Don’t want no angel coming for me.” The child’s own eyes brightened with tears as she tried to crowd into the far corner of her bed.

“It’s just a toy,” Claire exclaimed.

“That’s okay, honey,” Connor quickly consoled the child. “We’ll give this bear to the playroom,” he promised, handing the toy to Claire. “Anyway, it looks to me as if you have stuffed animals aplenty to bring you cheer and good luck.”

“Stuffed animals aren’t for luck, silly.” Liddy giggled and brushed at the tears lingering on her dark lashes. She pointed to a small figurine of a fat pink elephant sitting centerstage on her windowsill. “Ellie’s my good-luck charm. She’s really Mommy’s,” Liddy confided in a whisper. “I only got her ’cause I had surgery.” An oversize sigh escaped. “Ellie watches over me, but I can’t touch her. She’s special.”

Connor followed her finger to the glass figurine. Memories suddenly overwhelmed him, dumping him headlong into a long-ago afternoon when Mallory discovered that very elephant in the window of a beach shop. She had no money or credit card with her, which was unusual. But, oh, how she’d coveted that odd little piece.

The next day he’d cut class and hitchhiked back to buy it—all the while fearing it’d be gone. It wasn’t. But buying it had taken every cent he had to his name, with not one red penny left for wrap. So he’d wrapped it himself, in newsprint, for Mallory’s sixteenth birthday. Even now, heat crept up his neck as he recalled his later embarrassment. His badly wrapped gift had looked worse than tacky sitting among the expensive things Mallory’s other friends had brought to her party.

“I can’t believe Mallory saved this,” he blurted. “I gave it…uh, I mean, your mom’s had this since she was sixteen.” Extending an unsteady finger, Connor stroked the cool glass.

Liddy Bea sat up straighter, her eyes suddenly alight with interest. “Did you know my daddy?” she whispered. “Mommy said Ellie’s the only present my daddy ever gave her, ’cept for me. Isn’t that silly? Nobody can give somebody a girl.”

Claire inhaled sharply.

Connor caught himself seconds before he slipped and said that he and Liddy’s daddy were one and the same. Luckily, a nurse popped her head into the room just then. “Visiting hours are over,” she announced. “You can come back this evening.”

Thoroughly rattled, Connor uttered a hasty goodbye. Fast though it was, he still had to jog down the hall to catch Claire. “Hey! I thought we’d leave this bear at the desk. Claire, what’s your rush?” he called, puzzled that she continued walking rapidly in the direction of the elevator. Once there, she jammed the button several times.

“As if you don’t know,” she hissed when he reached her. “You lied to me. On the plane, when I asked what gifts you’d given Mallory, you said nothing. That elephant sure looks like something to me. Now I see why you wanted to buy the stuffed one. It’s some kind of family good-luck symbol, isn’t it?”