A Life Worth Fighting (23 page)

“Leah and I haven’t really considered the fact that Jamie may not be ours. I feel deep in my heart that she is my flesh and blood.”  

“The other family is going to be very upset that
their
daughter is deceased. They will likely accuse you
and
your wife of unthinkable acts.”  

I run my hand through my hair.  

“I’m sorry, but I want you to be prepared for the worse.” 

I run my hands through my hair again, “Well, let’s hope for the best.” 

“I’ll schedule an appointment for the DNA testing and call the hospital to see how many families are involved in this baby swap.” 

“You’re going to take this case?” I ask hopefully. 

“I am. You may need great representation.” 

I look at him in the eyes and say, “Thank you.” 

“I’ll be in touch about the DNA test; be ready to be swamped by the media. It’s just a matter of time before the media is all over you for a story. If you or your wife work outside of the home, you may want to figure something else out.” 

“Okay, we can do that.” 

“I would also like to be there when they collect the DNA. Just to make sure there aren’t any possible errors. Is there a particular time you want for you to do that?” 

“No, anytime is good.” 

Bruce writes some things down on his legal pad and says, “I’ll get on it and I’ll call you as soon as something is set up.” 

“Thank you, I am truly grateful to you for taking this case. My dad speaks very highly of you,” I say, as I shake Bruce’s hand.  

“Your dad and I go way back and my son is a big fan.” 

“Oh, who’s your son?” 

“Mason Myles,” he says, nodding to a family portrait hanging on the wall. The picture consists of Mason, his wife, Angel, and their twins. 

I look at the picture then at Bruce, “I like Mason; he’s a good man.”  

“Thank you, and yes, he is.” 

Chapter Eight: Little Jamie

Leah

I wake up from a restless sleep and find Robert on his laptop in the chair next to my hospital bed. It’s completely dark outside. “Please tell me it was all a dream.” 

He looks over his computer at me and smiles sadly. “I wish I could, Sweets.” 

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” 

“I’m afraid so.” Robert closes up his laptop and sits on the edge of the hospital bed. “The attorney is going to take our case.” 

“That’s good news.” 

“It is. Do you remember Mason and Angel?” 

“Emma’s friends, the doctor and his wife?” 

“Yes, that’s him. The attorney is Mason’s dad. He’s also a judge in Bradenton.” 

“Do you think we’ll need an attorney?” 

“I hope not, but if we do, I want the best one around.” 

I pull the blanket up and say, “I can’t help but feel that Jamie was our daughter. I think I would have known if she wasn’t.” 

“Me, too. I couldn’t have loved her any more and I could never love her any less.” 

The next morning my doctor comes in and releases me. Dad and Mom pick us up and drive us home. When we get there, Robert’s parents are in the house. I smell food and my mouth waters. His mom makes the best roast beef and noodles I have ever had. I also know she cooks when she is anxious.  

“Is that homemade bread I smell?” Robert asks, inhaling deeply through his nose. 

“It is,” she smiles.  

I hug his mother and his father before saying, “I’m going to shower and get this hospital smell off me,” I say, walking up the stairs, “I’m glad you are both here.” 

Robert walks over to me and asks, “Leah, do you need anything?” 

“Just a shower.” He looks at me with concern in his eyes. “I’m fine, really.” 

As I walk past Jamie’s room, I turn around and go in. I inhale deeply; I just want to smell her scent. Of course, it’s long gone. I walk over to her nightstand and look at the picture of the three of us. God, I pray she is ours. I wipe the tears from my cheek and lie on her bed. Jamie always had light brown hair and light eyes where Robert and I have black hair and very dark eyes. I look at the picture and try to see which one of us she looks like.  

“Don’t, Leah.” I jump at Robert’s voice. “No matter what, she is our daughter.” 

“What if…” 

“Don’t. She’s ours and there are no what if’s. I couldn’t have loved her any more than I did.” 

“Why is this happening to us? I don’t feel like we deserve it. We’re good people who do right by others. So, why this?” 

“I don’t know. I wish I had the answers, but I don’t.” 

Robert’s cell phone rings and he says, “I have to take this. Get your shower, we have company.” 

“Okay.” I stand up and walk out of the room. I take a long hot bath instead of a shower. My mind is going 100 miles and even a long hot bath isn’t relaxing me.  

We have dinner together and everyone is quiet. We are all thinking the same thing, yet nobody wants to talk about it. I feel like the black cloud of depression is calling me and I refuse to answer. It would be so easy to sink into that state of sadness. I fight it for me, Robert, and our baby. As if the baby knows what I am thinking, he kicks me. I jump, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Robert or our parents. “He’s strong,” I admit, smiling. I rub my hand over the spot he just kicked to sooth it. Everyone has felt the baby kick but our fathers. He kicks again and I smooth out my shirt so they can see it. The baby glides his foot over my belly.
I don’t know the baby’s sex, but for some reason I call it a him. The baby’s foot feels funny and it looks even more comical. I look up and I can see the smiles of Robert and our parents. I take my dad’s hand and place it on my belly.  

“Wow, that feels incredible,” Dad says. 

I put Walter’s hand on my belly next. His face lights up when the baby kicks. “I think it’s a boy,” Walter says, smiling.  

“You can tell from a kick?” Margie jokes. 

“Sure can, he’s strong like Robert. It’s gotta be a boy.”  

We laugh and finish our dinner. I’m grateful the mood has lightened. I pat my belly as a thank you to the baby. 

The next morning Robert informs me that today we need to go to the hospital for our DNA tests. The attorney called with the time and location. I don’t go in to work. Robert called Bethany last night and asked her if she could handle working the shop by herself. He said he would close it if she didn’t feel comfortable working alone. Of course, she doesn’t want to close the store.  

While getting dressed, I feel a sudden burst of anxiety run through me. I sit on the bed and close my eyes. I take some deep breaths in my nose and out my mouth.
Please, not today.
  

“Are you all right?” Robert asks, sitting next to me on the bed. 

“I will be. I just need a minute.” 

He doesn’t leave me but sits with me and holds my hand. I feel like, since Jamie’s death, I am falling apart slowly. I’m not the person I once was. When the anxiety passes, I smooth my hands over my dress and stand.  

“Better?” Robert asks. 

“I am, thank you. Do you have the locket of Jamie’s hair from her first haircut, and her birth and death certificates?” 

“I do.” 

“Is that all they wanted?” 

“That, and our drivers licenses.” 

“The attorney is meeting us at the hospital, right?” 

“He is. He also set us up with an appointment at Mason and Alec’s medical practice. He advised us to get our own DNA tests.” 

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” 

“I’m afraid so, Leah. I’m sorry.” 

Gus is in the driveway when we exit the house. “We have a driver?” I joke.  

“It looks like it.” 

Robert holds open the back car door for us and climbs in after me. Gus is driving and Dove is in the passenger seat. “You’re not working today?” I ask Dove while buckling my seatbelt. 

“No, I’m unemployed.” 

“Since when?” 

“Since the jerks wanted me to do a story about a baby swap.” 

My heart falls into my stomach. I look at Robert with my mouth wide opened. “You quit your job because of this story?”
They wanted her to write about the girls who were switched at birth.
 

“I was excited about doing this story until I heard you guys are one of the parents affected by it. I can’t lose a friendship over a story.” 

I say, “You wouldn’t have lost us.” 

“Leah, trust me when I say that I would have. They expect reporters to be ruthless, to do whatever they need for a story. My friends and family come first, and they always will.” 

“Thank you, Dove. I appreciate that.” 

“Just to give you a heads up. The badgering starts now,” she says.  

We pull out of our gated community and see several different news vans parked along the side of the road. I stare out the window and I feel like I’m going to get sick. I reach for Robert’s hand and he readily takes it.  

“They’re expecting to see your car or Bobby’s car. They aren’t expecting you to be in here,” Gus says. 

Dove adds, “More reporters will be waiting for you at the hospital.” 

“We’ll drop you guys off at the back of the hospital. Just call when you’re done and we’ll pick you up at the same location.”  

I watch as Gus looks at Robert in his rearview window. 

“Thank you,” Robert says. 

“No thanks is needed.” 

Robert

We get dropped off in the back, and Leah and I rush inside the back door. Bruce, our attorney, called and informed us that members of the media were at the front doors, waiting for us. He meets us at the back door and I hold Leah’s hand and we walk quickly into a room that says “LABS” over the doorway. I watch as a man and a woman, both with brown hair, leave with a red-headed child. I wonder if they are part of this baby swap. I look down at Leah and she is also watching. We wait with the attorney in a small waiting room.  

“I’ll do all the talking,” Bruce says. “I think it’s also best to have the results mailed to my office by certified mail. I don’t want either of you opening the results alone.” 

Leah nods but doesn't say anything. “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. You’ll call us immediately?” 

“I will, and we will open them together.” 

An older woman comes in, looks around the room, and she asks, “Where’s the child?” She sounds as if she is snarling. 

I open my mouth to say something, but Bruce speaks up. “Sadly, she’s deceased. It should be in your records. We were advised a hair sample would be sufficient.” 

“I need your identification and the child’s birth and death certificate.” 

We hand everything to Bruce and he hands everything to the bitch wearing scrubs. She takes our pictures and swabs the inside of our mouths. I watch as Bruce carefully gives her the small baggie containing Jamie’s fine hair from her very first haircut. The lady reaches in carelessly and removes over half of the hair from the bag. Leah sadly watches as some of the hair falls onto the floor. Leah bends over to pick up the stray strands.  

The bitch says, “You’ll receive the results in the mail in about a week.”  

I open my mouth again to say something about it taking so long, but Bruce says it for me. 

“Is there any way we can get the results any faster?” 

“No, in one week, through the mail,” she repeats sternly. She hands the baggie of Jamie’s hair back to Bruce and Bruce carefully hands it back to Leah. She shakes the small amount of hair left in the bag and a tear trickles down her cheek. She quickly wipes it away. 

We follow Bruce out of the room and Leah and I watch another family enter: a mother, a father, and their daughter. Both parents are blond and the daughter has dark brown hair. Bruce watches Leah and me and says, “A total of six families is involved.” 

I close my eyes thinking of five other families going through what we are going through.  

“Is that one of the families?” Leah asks.  

“I don’t know for sure, but I would guess it is.”  

Leah holds her belly, and I take her other hand.  

“Do you need a ride to Mason’s office?” Bruce asks. 

I say, “No, we have someone waiting for us outside.” 

“I’ll walk you to the door, then I’ll meet you over there. Mason said to park in the back and come in through the staff entrance.” 

“Thank you, Bruce. We appreciate it.” 

Gus and Dove are waiting in the car by the door when we exit the building. Once we are in the car, Dove asks, “Where to now?” 

I give them directions and Gus drives. No one says anything on the way there. I hold Leah’s hand. When we pull up at the back of Mason and Alec’s medical practice, I can see tears in Leah’s eyes. I know this is a lot of stress on her.  

“Baby, don’t cry,” I whisper into her ear. 

“I’m trying hard not to. I’m just so scared.”