I know what you know.
If you air the story,
you’ll be sorry.
Anger rolled in like dark clouds. She was tired of feeling threatened and wished she could air the story just to spite whoever it was. For a minute she considered turning the envelope in to the police. Maybe they could lift a fingerprint and catch this creep. But there would be questions for her to answer, and Miles would have to be made aware of the note. How would she explain it?
No, she didn’t want or need questions like that right now. She wadded up the paper and envelope and tossed it into the trash can. Her tormentor was going to get exactly what he wanted, whether Paula liked it or not.
* * *
David sat at his kitchen table and opened his laptop. After he connected to the Internet, he pointed the cursor at his inbox where it showed he had one message. He clicked on it and disappointment flooded him. Why hadn’t Paula responded to his last two e-mails? He checked his Sent box to make sure they’d gone out. They had.
Discomfort constricted his gut. He knew she was busy, but it had been four days since he’d heard from Paula. Maybe he should just call her. He checked the clock and saw that it was way too early for her to be in bed.
He fished his cell phone from his pocket and dialed her on her Jackson cell phone. It rang so long, he thought Paula must have it turned off.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Paula? You sound sick.”
There was a pause before she answered. “David? No, I just went to bed early.”
Paula never retired early. She had too much energy for that.
As if reading his mind, she justified the answer. “I didn’t sleep well last night, so I figured I’d catch up.”
“That’s not like you. Why didn’t you sleep well?”
“Oh, I—was up talking to Linn. You know, some crisis that came up.” Her voice sounded guarded, like the old Paula. Something had happened.
“Are you all right? Have you had another threat?”
“No.” Her answer was quick. “No, everything’s fine.”
David checked the time. He regretted that he had to leave for Bible study in a few minutes. “I was starting to worry. You haven’t answered my e-mails.”
“Oh.” He could almost hear her wincing. “I’m sorry, David; I haven’t checked my e-mail in a couple of days. Just busy, you know?”
“Sure. Sure.” The only thing he was sure of was that something wasn’t right. Paula wasn’t trading barbs or flirting like she had lately. Of course, he had just woken her up.
“Did I miss something important? I’ll go check it right now.” He could hear the rustling of bedding.
“No, you can read them later. It was nothing important. I was just starting to worry because I hadn’t heard from you since Friday. I’m wishing we hadn’t decided to leave you in Chicago this weekend.” He remembered their phone conversation. “Hey, how did that interview go? The one for the Morgan story.”
She paused so long he thought he’d lost his connection. “Paula?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it went fine.” Her voice was cheerful. Overly so.
“But did you learn anything? You’d thought this woman knew something.”
“Oh. Oh, right. Well, she remembered a lot, but I don’t think it’s anything that will be helpful to the Morgans. Did you just get home from work?”
“Yes, and unfortunately I have to leave in a minute. To go to Bible study.”
“Really?” She sounded distracted.
“It’s not boring like I thought it would be. I’m learning a lot.”
“That’s great, David.”
“How about you? Have you gone back to that church we visited?”
As soon as he said it, he knew he sounded preachy. He wished he could take back the question. Paula always hated it when her family pressured her about church. David hated it too. But that was before he realized how much it helped him.
“It wasn’t my style, really. Maybe I’ll try and find another one.” The words sounded thoughtful, as if she considered it a good idea. That gave him a bit of hope.
“That’s a great idea.”
“Maybe I’ll try Linn’s church.”
“Hey, hon, I have to go, or I’m going to be late.”
She said good-bye, and he punched the End button.
* * *
Paula closed the cell phone and lay back on the bed. How could she have forgotten to check her e-mail? Now David was suspicious. She could hear it in his voice. Maybe she’d set his fears, whatever they were, to rest. But one thing was certain: she needed to get it together by Friday. At the moment she felt like she was running on fumes. She didn’t know how she’d make it through the workweek, much less how she’d face David and continue to act like everything was fine.
Work would hold its own challenges this week. Now that she’d found an answer for the Morgans, what would she do with it? Her plan to cover the story and reveal the truth couldn’t happen now.
And what about the Morgans? Would she just keep them in the dark? Would she hide from them the one thing they wanted desperately to know?
Well, she was an expert at hiding things, wasn’t she? She had years of practice. Feeling more trapped by the minute, Paula threw off the covers and worked her feet free of the tangle of bedclothes. She wished she could as easily untangle the mess she’d made.
It would be cruel to hide her findings from the Morgans, yet how could she tell them the truth? Not only had their birth baby died, but Faith was Paula’s birth child. The product of a botched abortion. Paula’s abortion.
She pictured Faith as best she could remember. Remembered Faith snuggling up against her father’s neck. Limping out of the living room with her cerebral palsy gait.
The thought stopped her cold. CP could result from being born prematurely, couldn’t it? The child had this disease because Paula hadn’t carried her pregnancy to full term. More guilt slipped in.
Then another thought hit her like a wall of ice. Hadn’t Louise said something about cerebral palsy? Something about babies who lived through the process were often left with deafness or CP? Maybe Paula wasn’t remembering right. She almost wished she still had the tape.
The computer. She could find that information online. Paula jumped out of bed and headed toward the corner of the living area, grateful that Linn was at work. She sank into the high-backed leather chair and Googled the words botched abortion and cerebral palsy.
A page of links came up—the first one titled “Survivors of Abortion.” She clicked on the link. It was the first-person account of a girl who had survived an abortion. Paula skimmed through the entry until she came to the words she was looking for.
“I was diagnosed with cerebral palsy as a result of the abortion.”
The words blurred on the screen.
It was true, then. It was her fault. Not wanting to read any more, Paula closed out the screen. Her head thunked back against the high-backed leather chair while everything inside seemed to hollow out. Her body felt like a brittle shell wrapped around an empty space.
Oh, God, will the repercussions ever end? How could I have caused so much damage with one decision?
The abortion caused a rift between her and David, though he didn’t know the cause of it.
It caused the cerebral palsy Faith now lived with. It caused Louise to carry a load of guilt and fear. It caused the Morgans untold pain when they found out Faith wasn’t their birth child. What would it do to them if they found out their own birth child had died?
They wouldn’t. Paula couldn’t bear to tell them. To tell them their child had died alone, except for the concern of one nurse. Better that they never know.
Paula closed her eyes. Another secret. She was treading neck deep in secrets, and they were about to drown her.
* * *
Paula was washing her hands two days later in the station’s washroom when Cindy walked in. Cindy bent over and peeked under the three stalls before turning to
meet Paula’s eyes in the mirror.
“Did you hear about Darrick?” she said.
The only thing Paula had heard this week about Darrick was all the hoopla over his last story. “Please tell me it’s good news.”
Cindy smiled. “It is good, at least for you. You know that story he broke last week about the CEO of Edmonton’s? Turns out that sexual harassment charge was bogus.”
“Bogus? What do you mean?”
“All Darrick did was interview the woman. He didn’t get the full story, and he didn’t double check his facts. The woman who accused the CEO was recently denied a promotion. She cracked this morning and told the truth. To WANE.”
It wasn’t good for Darrick at all. To have another station correcting his inaccurate coverage wasn’t good for the station either. “How’s Miles taking it?”
“Oh, man, he’s fit to be tied.” Cindy’s eyes shone as she grabbed Paula’s sleeve. “This is great news for you.”
“I see now why you looked under the stalls.”
“Hey, I’m not stupid.” Cindy turned to leave the room. “Play your cards right, lady, and you’re a shoo-in.”
Adrenaline accompanied Paula all the way to her desk. She got the tape from her most recent interview and began writing the copy for the story that would appear on the evening news: a local high-school basketball player who was expected to get a full-ride scholarship to Indiana University. His high-school coaches thought he might be good enough to go straight to the NBA, but his mother insisted he go to college first.
She was halfway through the copy when her phone rang. Still distracted by the story, she answered it.
“Hi, Paula. It’s Deb.”
She jerked back to reality. “Deb. Hello.”
“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m actually just outside the station.”
Paula heard Faith in the background pleading for something. Her heart squeezed.
“Anyway, I wanted to talk. Do you have a few minutes where I can come up? I have Faith with me.” Deb said it like an apology, but the words filled Paula with longing. She yearned to stare at Faith, into every feature of her face and see the resemblance that must be there. Did she have David’s cowlick? Paula’s smile?
“Paula? If it’s not a good time, I understand. Maybe we can set up a time to talk on the phone.”
“No, no. Now is fine. Come on up. I’ll tell Cindy at the desk to send you back. We’re on the fifth floor.”
“Great. Thanks, Paula.”
When she hung up, she called Cindy and told her Deb was coming. Paula took her compact out of her purse and used the puff to blot away the shine on her forehead. She straightened her hair, tucking it behind her ears.
“You’re wasting your time.”
She glanced up to see Stan, the information-technology guy, walking by, a sucker stick protruding from his mouth.
He smiled. “Can’t improve upon perfection.”
She grinned at him as he passed. Another man might say the same thing and be smarmy about it, but Stan was as harmless as a puppy.
She put her compact back in her bag and turned her thoughts to what Deb wanted to talk about. She would want to know if Paula had found out anything. As much as she wanted to see Faith, Paula hated to lie to Deb.
Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive! The old proverb flashed in her mind like a beacon on the shore of Lake Michigan. She’d never felt the truth of it as she did now. But the lie had started three years ago, and there seemed no way to fix it now. Telling the truth would only cause untold pain and damage. There should be a proverb explaining how to get out of the web once it was already woven. But she felt like a fly trapped in the intricate and sticky pattern.
She would think of something to tell Deb. For now all she wanted to think about was seeing Faith again. She wanted to hold her and tell her how beautiful and special she was, but that would seem odd since Paula had barely even acknowledged the child before. She glanced around the office and spotted the jar of suckers on Stan’s desk. Perfect.
She approached Stan and asked to borrow the candy jar. He was more than happy to accommodate. Her hands shook as she set the jar, filled with all flavors of Dum Dums, on the corner of her desk. She wanted Faith to like her, even if the little girl couldn’t know who Paula was.
She heard a child in the lobby and looked expectantly at the doorway leading to the room. She saw Deb first, bundled in a coat that might have been in style ten years ago. Deb glanced around the room, looking for Paula.
Paula stood so she could easily be seen. In doing so she could now see Faith trailing behind like a baby duck. Except for the uneven gait.
Deb’s face lit with a smile as she made her way back to Paula’s desk. She surprised Paula by embracing her. Paula returned the hug, feeling warmer than ever toward this remarkable woman. She moved two chairs from around the corner, and they all sat down. Faith’s feet dangled from the chair, her snow-covered boots dripping on the tile floor.
“Hi, Faith.” Paula smiled into the eyes of her birth daughter, staring in wonder at her beautiful green eyes. Eyes the same color as her own. Faith’s hat covered her head, but Paula could see two low pigtails that dangled nearly to her shoulders.
“Say hello to Miss Paula,” Deb said.
“Hewo.” Faith looked down shyly.
“She doesn’t have her L’s yet,” Deb said.
“It only makes her sound as cute as she looks.” Paula lifted the jar from her desk, then realized she should ask Deb first. “Is it OK?”
“Sure.”
“Would you like a sucker, sweetheart?” Paula asked. Her heart nearly exploded in joy when Faith smiled and nodded. She reached her little chubby fingers into the jar and rooted around for all of ten seconds before she came up with a root-beer sucker.
“You and root beer.” Deb shook her head. “The girl would drink root beer for every meal if we let her.”
Faith peeled the wrapper off the sucker and popped it into her mouth. Paula was amazed by the pleasure it gave her to satisfy Faith in such a small way. What would it have been like to meet her every need—the way a mother did?
“I’ll try and make this short since we’ve popped in on you at the last minute.”
Paula tore her gaze from Faith and smiled at Deb. “You’re fine. I’m glad you came.”
How could she explain what she was really thinking? I’m thrilled to see the daughter I gave birth to. Amazed by her sweet baby cheeks. Humbled by her resemblance to David and me.
“Have you been able to do much investigating since we talked last?”
Paula shifted. It struck her again how hard this was going to be. She would have to lie. Again. The thought of lying to these kind people was like a punch in the gut.
“I’ve done as much as time has allowed. My job here keeps me pretty busy, and of course, I go back to Jackson most weekends.”
“I know. I’ve felt guilty about that.”
Paula watched Faith pull the sucker from her mouth and stare at it before she licked it. As she drew the sucker toward her face, her eyes crossed. Paula felt a smile tug her lips upward.
“I shouldn’t have put the burden of this story on you after it wasn’t newsworthy anymore,” Deb said. “I knew you were reluctant, and I kind of played the sympathy card. I’m sorry.”
She sounded like she was going to tell Paula it was OK to drop the story. Could she be so lucky?
“I did it because I wanted to help, but it wasn’t sympathy,” Paula said. “And don’t forget, there was something in it for me too.”
“I take it you haven’t found any helpful information lately?”
Here goes. Paula knew the question would come. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you anything helpful.”
Her eyes found Faith’s. The little girl was staring at her with her wide green eyes. Paula wanted a lifetime to examine every detail of Faith’s face. To watch it change as the years carved maturity into the planes of her face. But that co
uldn’t happen. Paula could think of a dozen reasons why.
“That’s as much as we thought,” Deb was saying. “And please, don’t apologize. You’ve gone above and beyond.” She pulled Faith’s hat off her head. “Faith, hold your sucker by the stick. Your fingers are getting all sticky.” She helped Faith shift her fingers to the stick.
Paula reached across her desk to grab a tissue. But before she grabbed one, Deb pulled a wet nap out of her purse with the ease of a mother who’s done it a hundred times before. Paula let her hand fall into her lap. What had she been thinking? A tissue would only stick to Faith’s fingers and leave the tissue in shreds. Her mothering skills were as lacking as her integrity. The thought made her inexplicably sad.
“Anyway,” Deb said as she wiped Faith’s fingers clean, “Steve and I talked last night and reached a decision. We’ve decided to hire a private investigator. We’ll have to take out a loan to do it, but we both decided this is a do-or-die kind of thing. We’re not willing to let it rest.”
Anxiety tiptoed across Paula’s skin. If they hired a private investigator, wouldn’t they find out the truth?
Deb was waiting for her to respond.
Paula didn’t know what to say except, “I understand your need to know.”
Faith laid the sticky sucker on Paula’s desk and reached for the minirecorder.
“No no, honey,” Deb said. She seemed to notice Paula’s gaze on the sticky sucker. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s OK. And she can’t hurt the recorder.”
“It’s hard for them to sit still at this age. I’m surprised she’s not wandering around the room getting into everything by now.”
Faith turned the recorder over in her hands and held it up to her ear.
Paula felt a dozen angry bees swarming around her belly. What was she going to do about the investigator? She needed time to figure it out. “When are you planning to hire someone?”
“We’ve set appointments with three different people for next week.” Deb picked up her purse and set it on her lap. “I just wanted to drop by and thank you for everything you’ve done. We really appreciate it.”