Pamela Bauer - Bachelor Father

“It’s you!” she said on a delightful note.

“Yes, it’s me.” Faith wasn’t quite sure what else to say. “How are you feeling?”

Megan didn’t answer the question but said, “I knew Adam was wrong. He said people can’t come back from heaven, but I told him I saw you and now you’re here.”

“I’ve never been to heaven, Megan,” she said gently, noting that she’d referred to her father by his given name instead of calling him Dad or Daddy.

“Then where have you been?” Blue eyes looked at her with an innocence that tugged at Faith’s heartstrings. They grew cloudy as Faith moved closer to her. “You are my mommy, aren’t you? You look like her.” Uncertainty crept into her voice, replacing the joy that had greeted her arrival.

Faith gazed into blue eyes that begged her to answer the question with a yes. Faith wished she could. The last thing she wanted to do was destroy the hope this beautiful child harbored, yet until the answers to her own questions were found, she had no choice but to be candid.

She pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. “I don’t know if I’m your mommy.”

Megan frowned, her eyes losing some of their sparkle as she looked in bewilderment at Faith.

“You’re probably wondering how a mommy can not know that she’s a mommy, but if you’ll listen, I’ll try to explain it to you, all right?” Faith said calmly.

“All right,” the small voice answered.

“Megan, you came to the hospital to have an operation, didn’t you?”

She nodded. “My appendix was broken.”

“Yes, and it was making you feel badly, wasn’t it?” Again she nodded and Faith continued. “I have something inside me that’s broken, too.”

“Are you going to have an operation like I did?”

“No. What’s broken inside me can’t be fixed by being in the hospital.”

“Then how can it get fixed?”

“That’s the problem. The doctors aren’t sure how to make it work again.” She tapped her forehead with her finger. “My broken part is up here in my memory. Because it’s not working, I forget things I should know. Like my name.”

Megan’s blue eyes widened. “You don’t know your name?”

Faith shook her head. “Or where I live or who my family is.” She lifted her wrist with the leather bracelet on it. “Everyone calls me Faith because of this, but I can’t remember if it really is my name. I could be someone named Faith or I could be another person with a different name.”

Megan fingered the leather band and Faith asked, “Do you remember seeing your mother wear a bracelet like this?”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. Who gave it to you?”

“I don’t have the answer to that question,” she answered honestly.

“Can’t you remember?”

“No, I can’t. It’s another one of those things—like my name—that’s been put in a place inside of my head where I can’t find it.” She leaned forward. “I want to find all those things I can’t remember. That’s why I came to see you. I think you might be able to help me.”

“How?”

“I want you to tell me why you think I could be your mother. Would that be okay with you?”

Megan nodded vigorously, her innocent eyes showing her eagerness to please.

“Great.” She gave her a big smile, then shoved her hands out in front of her, palms down. “You said my face looks like your mother’s. What about my hands?”

Megan reached for them, her tiny fingers turning them over. Her touch was soft and warm as she studied them as if they were of utmost importance. “They kinda look like my mommy’s hands, but you’re not wearing the mommy ring and your nails are a mess.”

Faith passed on the criticism of her short, stubby fingernails, focusing on the missing jewelry. “What’s a mommy ring?”

“It’s a ring that mommies wear. Uncle Tom helped me pick it out for my mommy’s birthday. It has a heart on it and a blue diamond cuz that’s my birthstone.”

“And your mother wore it all the time?”

“Uh-huh. She said she was never going to take it off because every time she looked at it she would know I love her.”

Faith had to swallow back the emotion that wanted to lodge itself in her throat. She glanced at her bare fingers, wishing she’d been found wearing such a ring. Of course the fact that she wasn’t wearing one didn’t rule out the possibility that she was Megan’s mother. She could have lost the ring or it could have been stolen.

“You said my fingernails are a mess,” Faith reminded her.

Again Megan nodded her blond head. “Doreen would have a hissy fit if she saw them.”

“Doreen? Who’s that?”

“Mommy’s best friend. She works at the Cut and Curl except she always comes to our house to do our nails because it cost too much to go to the beauty parlor. She made little flowers on mine one time. Lori doesn’t know how to do flowers. See?” She held up her hands and Faith saw each tiny nail had a coating of dark purple.

“They’re very pretty,” she commented, wondering who Lori was. “Does Lori live here in the Twin Cities?”

“Uh-huh. Her house is just around the corner from Adam’s, which is good because that means I can go to her house after school. She’s going to have a baby. She’s this fat.” She extended her hand out in front of her stomach as far as it could reach.

“Is she your day-care provider?”

“I don’t go to day care. I go to Lori’s.”

“And Lori is?”

“Her aunt,” a male voice answered, startling Faith.

She turned to see Adam Novak looming behind her, looking even more attractive than he had the last time she’d seen him. He was not happy to see her with his daughter. That much was evident by the narrowness of his dark eyes.

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