Jacqueline Diamond - A Baby for the Doctor

The anguish on Rod’s face tore at Anya’s heart. “They dared to say that after I nearly went bankrupt fighting them in court?”

“That’s not only a lie, it was cruel to the girls,” Jack observed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner,” Helen said. “I always felt like I was walking on eggshells when I visited them. Please, everybody, have a seat.”

She gestured the group into the living room, its walls brightened by colorful framed floral embroideries. She must have loved creating them before arthritis crippled her hands, Anya thought.

“Why did you stop visiting, Grandma?” Tiffany nestled beside Rod on the couch. “You hardly come anymore.”

Helen lowered herself gingerly to the sofa. “My hip got so bad, I can’t travel.” To the others, she said, “I don’t mean to complain. Portia hired a limo to bring me for Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“Big of her,” Rod muttered.

It seemed to Anya that everyone was avoiding the central question of why this child had run away. However, being a not-very-invited guest at a family crisis, she held her tongue.

“How’s your little sister?” Jack beamed at his niece, apparently as overjoyed to see her as she was to see him, Rod and her grandmother. “Amber must be ten now. She was a bold little thing. I’m surprised she didn’t come with you.”

“Don’t give them ideas,” Helen said tartly.

“Oh, she isn’t bold anymore,” Tiff said. “She’s shy.”

“Unlike somebody I know.” Rod quirked the girl a smile. “Sweetheart, as Jack said, I fought for both of you.”

“I figured you must have.” Tiffany lifted her chin proudly. “I kept remembering you reading us bedtime stories and cracking jokes, and the older I got, the weirder it seemed that you stopped caring about us.”

“I always cared!”

“How’d you get his phone number?” Helen asked. “I’m sure your parents don’t keep it around, although I guess kids can find anything on the internet these days.”

“Mom and Vince only let us use computers for schoolwork.” Tiffany made a face. “They won’t let me have a cell phone either. My friend’s big brother dug up Daddy’s phone number.”

Rod tweaked one of Tiffany’s braids. “You should have called before you left home, squirt. Taking the train by yourself, that’s scary.”

“It was fun,” the red-haired girl proclaimed. “And if I’d called, you might have said no.”

Jack regarded her sternly. “Tiff, what if he’d been out of town? Dangerous people hang around train and bus stations watching for runaways. Please don’t take a chance like that again.”

“Then you’d better give me your number, too,” she replied, then added mischievously, “just in case.”

“Sure.” Fishing a prescription pad from his pocket, Jack began writing on it. “Honey, call me before you put yourself into a potentially dangerous situation, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Don’t just try.” He also gave her a business card. “That’s my office number. If for any reason you can’t get through on my cell, make sure the receptionist understands it’s an emergency.”

He certainly was acting fatherly, or like an uncle, Anya thought. Another woman in her situation might be thrilled, but to her it raised a whole bramble bush of unwanted possibilities. If he cared this much about his nieces, how might he feel about his own child?

“I hate to bring this up, but I have to call your parents and let them know you’re safe,” Helen said.

“Not yet!” Tiffany begged. “I’ll go home on Sunday, okay?”

“It’s only Thursday, and you’ve already missed a day of school,” her grandmother chided.

With obvious reluctance, Rod backed Helen up. “They’ve probably notified the police. We’ll all be in trouble if we don’t report your whereabouts.”

“They’re mean.” Tiffany slouched down. “If my grades aren’t perfect, they ground me for a whole weekend. They make me play soccer because that was Vince’s sport. I had to drop dance class, which is my favorite.”

“Too many organized activities,” Helen commiserated. “It’s not healthy.”

Anya wondered how Tiffany would have responded to her family’s demands. At twelve, Anya had hurried home every day after school with her seven-year-old triplet sisters, assisted her disabled mother, cleaned the house and fixed dinner.

Her older brothers had spent their after-school hours assisting Dad in the feed store. The only escapee had been her older sister, Ruth, who’d married and moved out by then. But she’d soon had kids of her own to care for.

“Children deserve a chance to develop at their own pace,” Rod was telling Tiffany as Anya tuned back in. “But if you were still with me, you’d probably complain about how strict I am, too.”

Anya admired his effort to be fair. He could easily seize on this chance to whip up his daughter’s resentment toward her parents.

“No, I wouldn’t because I’d know you loved me.” The girl’s lips trembled. “When I asked them if I could visit you, Vince said if I ever mentioned you again, he’d send me to a boarding school in Switzerland.”

Rod looped an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “Honey, I’d hate for that to happen. But after the court ruled in his favor, Vince adopted you. I have no legal rights.”

“He treats Amber and me like he owns us. Like we’re pretty objects for him to show off to his friends.”

We’re still missing something, Anya thought. The girl was unhappy, but why take action now? “Why did you run away today?” she ventured. “Did something happen?”

“Good question,” Jack murmured.

“It’s because of last Sunday.” The girl sniffed. After a deep breath, she resumed. “They make me take piano lessons even though I’m terrible because their friends’ kids play instruments. I had a recital on Sunday and I messed up.”

“What do you mean ‘messed up’?” Helen asked.

Tiffany’s hands clenched. “I forgot part of my piece in front of all those people. It was embarrassing. As soon as it was over, Vince dragged me outside and yelled at me where everybody could hear. He called me stupid and lazy.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Daddy, no matter how hard I practice, I still suck. When I try to memorize music, it falls out of my brain.”

“It’s good to play an instrument, but not if it makes you miserable,” her grandmother noted.

“I was great in dance class!” Tiffany burst out. “And I enjoyed it.”

“That’s why you ran away?” Jack asked.

“I had to see Daddy,” the girl said. “I knew he’d love me for who I am.”

Rod drew her close. No question about it; those were definitely tears brightening his eyes.

Anya understood how it felt to long for the freedom to be oneself. In a sense, she, too, had run off, although she’d waited until she was an adult with a nursing degree.

Rod’s gaze met Helen’s, his frustration obvious. “I wish I had the power to intervene, but legally, I don’t.”

“I should get a choice about who I live with,” Tiffany insisted.

“When you’re older, you might,” her grandmother said.

“How much older?”

“Fourteen, I believe.” Jack recalled that information from the lecture about runaways. “But you’d need your parents’ consent and your own money.”

“That’ll never happen!” Tiffany flared. “And what about Amber? They’re mean to her, too.”

“In what way?” Rod asked sharply.

“Since she’s a good swimmer, Vince took her to this competitive coach. Now he and Vince both yell at her when she doesn’t do well at meets,” her sister said. “She hardly talks to anybody anymore except me. When I told her I was short on money to buy my ticket, she gave me her savings.”