A Life Worth Fighting (24 page)

“I know, Baby. I wish I could do something.” 

“I just wanna get it over with.” 

Before we get out of the car, we see that Mason and Angel are standing at the back door.  

“Angel’s here.” 

“I can see that.” I open the door and help Leah out of the car. Mason and Angel walk over to us and Emma and Alec are right behind them.  

“You all should come in, we have lunch and there’s enough for everyone,” Angel says, reaching her hand out for Dove’s. “Hi, I’m Angel and this is my husband, Mason; his partner, Alec; and his wife, Emma.” 

Dove shakes her hand and introduces everyone to Gus.  

“Don’t you have patients?” Leah asks. 

“Not right this moment. We can’t have patients during a crisis of one of our friends,” Emma says as she hugs Leah. Gus parks the car and we all walk into the office. I smell Italian food as soon as the door opens. Bruce walks in the front door and locks it behind him.  

“Let’s get this done before we eat,” Mason says. 

Leah says, “Mason and Alec, you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.” 

They both laugh before Alec says, “Our wives went to all this trouble; they insisted and they wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

“The girls are right,” Mason says. “It’s good to be surrounded by friends at a time like this. I imagine it has been a very stressful time for you today.” 

“Yes, it has. People can be so insensitive.” Leah smiles for the first time in days. Mason and Alec swab our mouths and collect a small amount of Jamie’s hair from the baggie. They are careful to take only the amount they need. They know we’ll never be able to replace the hair they take. Once we give the samples, they label it and get it packaged to send out. We then join everyone in the waiting room. Mason and Angel’s twins are running around, and Emma and Alec’s kids are chasing after them. Dove is holding Emma and Alec’s baby, Jackson. We have Italian food that they had catered in from Mamma Onesties.  

Mason and Angel come over and sit with us.  

“How are you doing?” Angel asks. 

“Not well. It just feels like a bad dream that I can’t wake up from,” Leah admits.  

A night terror would be a better phrase. 
 

“I’m not only worried about Jamie not being ours, but now, I’m scared to deliver this baby in a hospital. What if this happens again? I honestly don’t think I could live through this twice.” 

I had no idea that Leah feared this.
I don’t think I could live through it again, either.
  

“Mason said that with our next child, he’s marking them with a permanent marker as soon as they are born.” 

We all laugh, but I think that’s a great idea. I put that thought to memory.  

Mason says, “I am. I’m putting an X on the tops of their tiny hands and maybe on their foreheads, too. I’m still deciding on the forehead location.” 

Angel laughs. “Their hands, yes, but their foreheads is an absolute NO!” 

Bruce comes over and sits down next to us. “This is nice, but I need to get back to work.” 

I say, “Thank you, Bruce, for everything.” 

“I haven’t done anything yet, but you’re very welcome.” 

“Try to not worry about things you have no control over this week.” He looks at me and then at Leah. “I know, it’s not that easy. I’ll call you when we get the results and we’ll go from there.” 

“Thank you so much for everything,” Leah says as she stands to hug Bruce. 

Mason walks Bruce to the door and I can see the family resemblance.  

On the way home, I ask Gus to stop by the florist that’s beside the cemetery. I need to spend some time with Jamie. He doesn’t argue and he doesn’t say anything. Gus is a good friend and we go way back to high school. He and Dove don’t have children; they decided early on before they were married that they didn’t want children. I can respect that although I can’t imagine my life without children in it. Leah and I walk into the florist shop and Leah buys assorted wildflowers and I buy the pink roses for Jamie that I always get for her. We walk outside and tell Gus and Dove we’ll meet them at the cemetery. Leah and I hold hands and walk across the street to Jamie’s final resting place.  

Gus pulls up beside us quickly and yells, “Get in.” 

Without hesitation, I open the back door for Leah and get into the car after her. “What’s up?” 

Gus quickly pulls off and says, “They found her.” 

“Who found who?” I ask in confusion.
What the hell is he talking about?
 

“Look,” Gus says, driving slowly along the side road that runs parallel to Jamie’s cemetery plot.  

Leah cries out and I see about a half dozen photographers near her tombstone, snapping pictures. “Why are they doing this?” Leah asks. 

“It’s all about a story, Leah,” Dove whispers.  

Leah wipes away the tears that continue to fall. “Why now? Don’t they want to wait until after the results are in to taunt the families?” 

“I’m so sorry, Leah. Each reporter is assigned a family to torment from now until the results are revealed. It’s not just you; it’s every family involved in the baby swap.” 

“If they want a story, I’ll give them a story.” Gus parks the car and says, “Give me the flowers.” He holds his hands out, and Leah gives him the flowers for Jamie’s grave. He says, “Stay in the car.” 

He opens his door and walks over to Jamie’s grave.  

I say, “Stay in the car, Leah. Dove, get in the driver’s seat. If they walk over here, take off.” 

“Bobby, no.” 

“Dove, I mean it. Take off if they start coming near the car. I love you, Leah.” I open the car door and close it before Leah has time to say anything.  

I walk to the gravesite and when the reporters see me, they begin running towards me. I know Gus’ plan was to take the brunt of the media’s hassle, but Jamie is my daughter and I want everyone to know that. The reporters get closer and hold out their microphones and cameras towards me. I wait for the last reporter before I say something.  

“You want a statement?” 

“We do,” several people say in unison. 

“I’ll give you one, on one condition.” 

“We’re listening.” 

“You stay away from my daughter’s grave and you stay away from my wife. If you promise to do that, I’ll make a statement. If you can’t, I’ll beat the shit out of you, one by one.” I hear laughter and they think I’m kidding. Gus walks towards me and I know that he understands I’m serious.  

“Okay, Bobby, we can do that,” a woman says from the back of the crowd.  

“Thank you, I appreciate that. But can everyone do that? You can badger me all you want, but please respect my daughter and my wife.” 

I see everyone nod.  

“Thank you. First, I want to say, this is a very personal, trying, and difficult time for all of us. I’ll answer one question from each of you, and then I’m done. If I see any of you go against your word, you’ll soon regret it.” 

“What will you do if you find out Jamie isn’t your biological daughter?” someone asks. 

“Nothing. Jamie will always be my daughter, NO MATTER WHAT!” 

“Will you seek custody of the other child if you are proven to be her parents?” 

I have no idea. I haven’t even considered that. “
Right now, my wife and I believe the baby swap won’t affect us once the results come in. We do have empathy for the families who will be affected by this permanently.” 

“How can you be so certain that Jamie is your biological daughter?” 

“Do you have children?” I ask. 

“Yes, I have three.” 

“Then you’ll understand. It’s a feeling, we just know that Jamie is our child.” 

“How will this affect your wife’s current pregnancy when she delivers?” 

“I plan to mark the baby with a permanent marker immediately after birth,” I say with a serious face. 

Everyone laughs and I keep a straight face. 

“You’re serious about that?” someone asks.  

I ask, “Is that your one question?”  

“It is.” 

“I am very serious. I don’t want the chance for something like this to happen to us again. If the hospital can’t give the right baby to the correct mother, then I’ll do my part to make sure that we, at least, get the right baby.” 

Leah

I watch as Robert and Gus stand at the cemetery surrounded by reporters. Dove is in the driver’s seat waiting for the signal from Robert to leave. Dove says, “I think he’s giving them a statement or an interview.” 

“Why would he do that?” 

“He’s bartering with them.” 

After several minutes, the reporters begin to disperse and Robert and Gus walk over to where we are.  

“What just happened out there?” I ask. 

“Robert just negotiated,” Gus says as he waits for Dove to slide over into the passenger seat. 

I ask in confusion, “Negotiated what?”  

“Your and Jamie’s freedom,” Robert says thoughtfully.  

Gus drives the short distance and puts the car into park. “Take your time, we’ll wait here.” 

“Thanks, Gus, Dove,” Robert says as he holds open my car door for me. He takes my hand and walks me to Jamie’s gravesite. The flowers I bought for Jamie are lying neatly near her tombstone where Gus placed them. I give Robert his pink roses he picked out. Mrs. Ford, the owner of the flower shop, always keeps these flowers in stock for Robert and me.  

I expected to see Jamie’s gravesite trampled on, but I am pleasantly surprised that it’s not. Robert kisses his flowers and sets them neatly on the grave. I do the same. We also say a prayer and gently touch her tombstone before leaving. “Do you think they’ll be back?” I ask. 

“Who?” 

“The photographers, or reporters, or whoever they are.” 

“I gave them an interview in exchange for them leaving you and Jamie alone.” 

“What about you? Won’t they harass you?” 

“I’ll be fine, Sweets. I imagine I’ll be working from home a lot this week.” 

As we pull into our gated community, we find several newspaper reporters camped outside waiting for a story. “This is going to be a problem for us, isn’t it?” I look at Robert for answers. 

“I’m afraid so. But as soon as the results are in, they’ll leave us alone and will go after the families who will be haunted by this, forever.” 

I shudder at the thought. “Those poor people.” 

We go home and invite Gus and Dove in for dinner. They decline, saying that we have had a busy day.
We have.
Robert and I have chicken breasts and salads for dinner.  

After dinner Robert watches television and I get on my laptop. I use Google to search “babies switched at birth.” I read about the two girls switched at birth in Russia. I shiver as I continue to read. Although the families decided to keep the child they were sent home with, they still visit with their biological child. They speak of how different their children are from being raised by someone else.  

I wonder what would happen to us. We would want to see our biological child. We would, wouldn’t we? Would we want custody of her? Would the other family want their child? Jamie’s gone. How will this work out for us and for them?  

I should close my laptop, but I don’t. I read another story. This one is about a family in the U.S. One girl’s family is deceased and the remaining survivors don’t want anything to do with their biological child. I shiver again. Why would they not want to see her? She’s their flesh and blood. I close my laptop and close my eyes. Jamie’s ours, I just know it. 

I am worried about the DNA test, but I want to feel close to Robert. I want to do something that will keep me from thinking about Jamie, at least for a little while. 

I go upstairs and change. When I walk into the family room, Robert is on the couch reading the newspaper.  

“Whatcha reading, Ace?”  

I’m wearing a red sports bra and red boy-cut panties. Robert looks over his newspaper at me. I watch as he lowers the papers and smiles. I thought my big pregnant belly would be less attractive to him, but he stares at me with lust in his eyes.  

“What are you doing?” he asks.  

“I thought I would work out. Is that all right with you?” 

“Are you going to wear that to work out in?” 

“I am.” I turn around so he can get a complete view. The word “Champ” is on the butt of my panties. He stands up quickly and starts walking towards the stairs. “Where are you going?” I ask. 

“I’m working out with you. I have some penned-up energy I need to burn off.” 

I wait for Robert and before we begin our workout, he blasts the “The Eye of the Tiger” on the surround sound and I laugh.  

He turns it down and asks. “Is there something funny you’re laughing at, Leah?” He tries to look serious but smirks.  

“No,” I lie. 

 “Because it looks like you’re laughing at my choice of music.” 

“Nope. I love this song. I was just wondering how many times you think you have heard it.”