Bonnie Winn - Family Found

Still, Laura couldn’t ignore the ticking of her internal alarm system, one that was counting down the time they had left to learn the truth. Yet they managed to visit three hospitals.

Leaving St. Mark’s Hospital, Mitch drew in a deep breath of the humid air. “Can’t abide the smell of antiseptic. Don’t know how people can work in it all day.”

Laura shrugged. “They’re probably used to it. A person can get used to most anything after a while.”

Mitch didn’t look convinced. “Mmm. Why don’t we call it a day. We’ve—”

“What?” Halting, she pivoted to glare at him. “Tucker, you don’t understand. This isn’t like some of your other jobs. We have a pressing deadline! One that’s more important than your playtime.”

He held open the car door for her, his expression and voice remaining even. “We’ve been at it all day. I thought you might like to go and check on that little deadline.”

She blinked, then glanced at her watch. “It’s after six o’clock. I didn’t realize…”

“We covered a lot of ground today, Laura. It’s dinnertime. Why don’t you go home and I’ll head back to the office.”

“The office?”

“I want to check the national database search again, see if I missed anything. Then I need to follow up on some calls and go through the mail. Hopefully, there’ll be some solid leads.”

The breeze kicked up around them, straggling remains of the morning’s storm. Wind tugged at Laura’s hair and she pushed wayward strands away from her face. “But you need to eat dinner, too.”

“I’ll grab something.”

“A hamburger, no doubt,” she said, feeling guilty for her outburst. “That’s not a proper dinner after a long day.”

“I’m used to it.” He drew his brows together as he cocked his head, studying her skeptically. “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about my dining habits?” He shook his head slowly. “Or my welfare?”

Uncomfortable with his scrutiny and her own harsh words, Laura tossed back her hair. “Of course not. But I’m the one demanding the long hours.”

“Feeling guilty, Laura? That doesn’t sound like you. But then, I don’t suppose I know you well enough to say, do I?”

Uncomfortable, she edged back a bit. Ridiculously, ever since her disastrous divorce she had unplugged her radar for dealing with men. It felt safer to exist as a sexless nonplayer than to deal with any more hurt. Mitch Tucker was probably so used to the male-female dance that the motions were as automatic as breathing for him. She doubted he was even aware he was doing them. Laura was certain he’d be amazed to learn how ill at ease she was.

Edging even farther back, she all but fell into the car. “You’re right. We should be going.”

He still looked skeptical. “Did I say that?”

But he took the hint, closing her door, then crossing to the other door and sliding inside the vehicle.

When they reached Laura’s home, she hesitated. “Why don’t you join us for dinner.”

“With the formidable Mrs. Plummer?” He smiled. “Not really my style. But you and the little tiger have a good one.”

Once in the house, Laura shut the front door and leaned against it. Mitch Tucker’s presence was so intense she felt a moment’s relief. Then, oddly, the relief segued into letdown. It was absurd, she knew, yet she couldn’t easily shake the feeling.

Straightening, she gazed down the dimly lit hallway. While the house was as welcoming as it could be without the personal touches it needed, it had never seemed quite so lonely. Aggravated with herself, Laura shook her head. Her life was hardly lonely. She had Alex and even Mrs. Plummer. No, she wasn’t alone.

An interior door opened softly and crepe-soled shoes quietly approached. “I thought that might be you,” Mrs. Plummer greeted her. “I was checking on dinner—we have a nice roast.”

“Just for us?” Laura questioned, realizing she had little appetite.

“I always had a small family, and let me tell you, roasts are not only for crowds. Just because a body doesn’t have a dozen children, that’s no reason to skimp on dinner.”

“Did you ever regret having only one child, Mrs. Plummer?”

A bleak look flashed in the woman’s eyes. “Despite what people think, the number of children isn’t what counts. Like little Alex, one is perfect.”

Laura couldn’t prevent a smile. “Do you suppose all mothers of onlys feel this way?”

“I can’t speak for all mothers, but I know my Linda was perfect, just like your Alex.”

“You’re right, Mrs. Plummer. And since we almost had company for dinner your choice sounds a lot better than a frozen diet dinner or a can of soup.”

“Company?”

Laura half waved away the words. “No, I mean yes. Well, sort of. Just Mitch Tucker.”

“That investigator?”

Somehow Mrs. Plummer made the name sound faintly repugnant, and disapproval flavored her tone.

“That would be him. I made him work late, so I felt a little obligated to invite him to dinner.”

“A gentleman shouldn’t ever make a lady feel obligated.”

Laura held a twitching smile in place. The generation gap was showing. In fact, it was waving like a banner. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Harrumph.”

“I think I’ll check on Alex. He’s awake, isn’t he?”

A warm smile transformed Mrs. Plummer’s face. “Yes, the little angel. I’ll put dinner on the table.”

Smiling, too, Laura headed for the nursery. At first, Alex didn’t hear her approach. His head was bent forward as he concentrated on the plastic blocks he held. A swatch of soft, dark hair fell across his forehead and his chubby face was furrowed as he tried to fit the plastic cubes together.

Laura’s heart constricted with love and she tried to banish the fear that crept in, as well. She had once heard that no one could understand the depth and enormity of love for a child until it was experienced. Now she knew that to be true.

Alex, sensing her presence, lifted his head, his face immediately creasing into a smile as he awkwardly crawled forward, reached for the top border of the playpen and pulled himself up.

“How’s my best boy?” she asked him, scooping him into her arms. She took his answering chortle as a greeting and bent to nuzzle his cheek.

After carrying him over to the rocker, she settled in, knowing it wasn’t long until his bedtime. Each day, each hour, was so incredibly precious. That this time might come to an end was inconceivable. While she wanted to spend every second on the investigation, she didn’t want to sacrifice one moment with little Alex. As the lump in her throat grew, she painfully acknowledged that she didn’t want to ever look back on this period and regret having not spent it with her son.

It was always during the later hours, in the night, that the doubts were the strongest. They sneaked in with the shadows when the absent sun could no longer banish them.

The rocker’s quiet creaking faded into the background as Laura recited a bedtime story. She had chosen a book from a nearby shelf, knowing it was one of Alex’s favorites. He loved to hear about animals—especially the rabbit.

As she often did at the end of storytime, Laura plucked a stuffed toy from the same overhead shelf, delighting Alex as she made the bunny’s ears wriggle. His laughter was pure joy for them both.

A wave of regret struck her, making her wonder yet again how her ex-husband could have simply walked away. Having such a child as Alex was like winning the greatest lottery of life, yet Kevin had dismissed him as though he were of no consequence.

She should almost have expected it, though. Kevin was an adventurous big talker, but a weak man. His charm had convinced her he was what she had been seeking all her life: a permanent connection, her soul mate.