When Hearts Collide

chapter 3

Well, at least I have an address. That’s a start. Now, I just need to find out how to get there and drop off the child.

Molly prayed someone would hear the doorbell. She’d slept through Molly’s multiple calls. Wasn’t somebody concerned about their whereabouts? They should be waiting by the phone, worried, calling the police to find out where they were.

She searched for someone to ask for directions. It was 2:30, and short-staffed, like all hospital nightshifts, only a skeleton staff remained visible. The nurses, busy with patients, had handed over the car seat, then rushed away. There’s always the security guard. Just need to find out where his office is. Her sandals echoed on the tiled floor as she made her way down the deserted hallways.

Gracie’s sleeping body was heavy, and Molly shifted her position several times. Thankfully the child was exhausted and would merely let out a moan, then curl her head back into Molly’s shoulder. Her damp blond curls had pasted themselves to her neck, and Molly wanted to wipe them away, but between holding the man’s belongings and the car seat in one hand, and securing the child to her with her other, she didn’t have a spare hand. Thank heavens she wasn’t a mother. She didn’t know how she’d cope. Her brief babysitting sessions hadn’t prepared her for this. Hadn’t she passed a security guard’s office on the way in?

Molly tried to recall where she’d seen it. She headed down another hallway. It didn’t look familiar, but it did lead out of the emergency department. Why didn’t they have signs? She was tired and grumpy. All she wanted to do was sleep. Ahead of her, she saw a double-paned glass window in the wall. Finally, the security office.

A man, on the far side of fifty, his gray hair as rumpled as his uniform, dozed behind a large scarred pine desk. His blue uniform shirt stretched over a ponderous abdomen, its buttons threatening to burst with each sonorous breath. Her knock on the window wrenched him awake.

I need to get to this address,” Molly said.

He slid one pane of glass sideways and took the card. “You got to go out to the highway, go left for about fifteen minutes. You’ll pass a small white church, then...”

Could you write down the directions? I’m not from around here.”

Sure, Miss.” He took out a lined pad and began writing. “You got quite a load there.” He ripped off the page and handed it to her. “You should have no problem finding the place.”

Molly followed his directions. Fortunately, he’d drawn a map with clear street names and landmarks. She turned right at Wallace’s Groceries, then another right at the Calvary Baptist Church. It took her five minutes to get back to the highway. Gracie had fallen asleep within two of those minutes. She glanced in the rear-view mirror. The child’s damp hair hung in ringlets around her chubby face, like a halo making her look like an angel. Molly couldn’t help smiling.

The child’s current predicament touched a cord in her heart. What would it be like to be a mother? What would her child look like? Would she be as cute as this munchkin in her back seat? Molly shook her head. Had this encounter set off her biological clock?

Outside of town, the houses thinned and the highway began to twist and turn. Her heart rate accelerated, exceeding the speed limit as she neared the accident site. Subconsciously her foot eased off the gas, and she had to remind herself to breathe. Pearce Taylor’s Jaguar sat there, its front end crumpled like a recycled pop can.

Molly’s thoughts went to the man fighting for his life after that terrible crash. She prayed he would survive. She remembered holding him in her arms and waiting for the ambulance to arrive. The scent of his cologne seemed to have transferred to her blouse and its heady perfume was having a strange effect on her. For several minutes, she let herself imagine him in her arms again, then the image of him in the hospital bed brought her back to reality.

It was a miracle Gracie had escaped that mangled mess with only a few scratches. Molly glanced in the rearview mirror. The child continued to sleep. Molly shivered at the thought of what the outcome could have been. The road remained dark and deserted. How long would it have been before the next car had come along and found them?

Molly was glad she’d been there. If the car had caught fire or exploded... She pressed her foot on the gas and hurried past the vehicle. It took several minutes for her heart rate to return to normal. She relaxed back in the seat, enjoying the ability to breathe without conscious effort.

She concentrated on her mission. To find someone who knew Gracie and her father. Molly hoped someone would be waiting expectantly at the front door.

The security guard had told her to follow the highway until she passed the village of Arva, then go five miles until she came to a series of concession roads. The one she wanted was the third one. The house number should be on the mailbox.

The trees were thinning. She saw a house, then a bit farther, another one. Was Arva coming up soon? One sign announcing the village, and a second one, reducing the speed to 30 miles per hour, came up on her right. It took her less than a minute to drive through the village. The child continued to sleep, her head tipped to one side, strands of blond hair sweeping across her peaceful face. The even rise and fall of her chest reassured Molly.

That maternal instinct roused again as she let herself imagine the dark-haired man as her husband, and this, their child. Memories of the child clinging to her, her tiny body pressed against her, mistakenly calling her Mommy, instead of Molly. She felt a pang of jealousy and regret that shortly she would turn the child over to her real family and never see her again.

Would she ever have children of her own? That would mean having someone in her life to father a child. The way her life was going right now, that would be never. A tear slid down her cheek. She brushed it away. Stop being so maudlin. You haven’t really considered having children. You wouldn’t know what to do with one. You’d kill it by neglect, just the way you’ve killed every plant you’ve looked after. You don’t have a green thumb nor whatever color thumb you need to raise a child.

She started counting the concessions. There wasn’t a car on the road, but she automatically put on her signals and slowed for the turn. Creeping at a snail’s pace, she watched for the number. Picking up the card, she verified the address. It should be the next one.

The driveway was bordered with trees, shadowy and sinister. It made her think of Mandalay in Rebecca. Would she find a Gothic mansion at the end of the driveway? Molly followed the winding roadway. It wasn’t Mandalay. Instead, three hundred feet from the road, she saw the silhouette of a large Cape Cod. A house sheathed in darkness. This doesn’t look good. What if no one’s home?

Her body ached with exhaustion. She’d been tired before the accident, and despite the adrenalin rush that had kept her going at the accident scene and the hospital, now she was ready to drop. All she wanted to do was hand over the child and find a place to lay her head.

How far was it to Tillsonburg? Were they still holding her reservation? Molly yawned. Could she even make it that far? She might have to stop at the next motel, no matter how dilapidated it looked. Maybe, after she dropped off the child, she could pull to the side of the road and catch some shuteye. But one look at the shadowy forest made her shiver as images of evil creatures catapulting out at her flashed through her mind, vanquishing any thoughts of stopping by the roadside.

Lights flashed on as she approached the house and for a second her heart leaped with hope, but they were motion sensors. Otherwise the house remained in darkness. Molly parked on the interlocking bricks in front of a three-car garage and glanced in the back seat where Gracie remained in dreamland. Crossing to the white double front doors, she rang the bell. Chimes echoed inside. She waited several minutes. No one came. No lights flickered. She pressed on the doorbell, then waited three minutes before knocking loudly. Still no response.

Now what am I supposed to do? Does being his pretend wife give me permission to go into his house?

Digging the keys out of Pearce’s black leather shoes, Molly headed back to the front door. The motion light had switched off, and Molly waved her arms to make it come back on. She sorted through the keys. There were so many of them. Which one is the house key? She picked one, swallowed the golf ball lump in her throat, and inserted the key into the lock. It didn’t fit. She selected another one. Not that one, either. The third one slid into the chamber. Thank you. She twisted the key. It didn’t turn. Just her luck. All bad.

Molly went through the ring again. Another one looked like a house key. She took a deep breath, said a prayer, slid it into the lock, and twisted. The chamber turned. She gave the door a push and it whispered open.

Hello. Is anybody home?” The house remained silent and dark. “Hello. Hello. Is anyone here?” She leaned further into the foyer.

It was a large open area, the space beyond pitch black. She ran her hand blindly along the wall, searching for the light switch. Her fingers felt a row of three buttons. She flipped the first one, immersing the area in bright light. Her eyes were drawn upward to the glimmering crystal chandelier hanging twenty feet above. It looked like a hundred glass pieces shimmering like diamonds. Glad I don’t have to clean that baby.

Molly ventured into the foyer, her sandals clattering on the ceramic tiling. The sound echoed through the emptiness. “Hello. Hello.” No one answered. She ventured farther into the house.

She called again, this time loud enough to wake the dead. Obviously no one was home, dead or alive. Her shoulders sagged. What now? First, get Gracie out of the car and into bed. Then maybe I can find a phone book with some relative’s name in it. Where is the child’s bedroom? Molly looked up the circular staircase leading to the second level. It must be up there.

She took a quick tour of the rooms on the first level. Living room to the right, library to the left, powder room, dining room, kitchen, and family room. All large, all empty. She ran up the stairs, calling out as she went. There were five bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a laundry room, again all empty. At least she’d found the child’s bedroom. She pulled down the comforter on the twin bed. Should I worry about pajamas? No. Just get her into bed. She flicked on the angel night-light and headed back to the car.

Gracie barely protested when Molly pried her out of the car seat and carried her to bed. Molly tucked the comforter around the child, then sat on the bed and watched her sleep. Impulsively, she gave the child a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving the room.

Now what? I can’t think. I need sleep. Maybe if I just lie down for a few minutes. Leaving the child’s door slightly ajar, Molly crossed the hall and pushed open another door. Inside, she saw the shadow of a king-size bed, an armchair, dressers. A shaft of moonlight poured through the large casement window, providing a soft illumination. Half expecting to find Gracie’s mother asleep on the bed, Molly didn’t turn on the overhead light. She crept into the room. The bed was empty.

Exhaustion engulfed her, and she didn’t think she could keep upright a moment longer. The bed looked so inviting. She couldn’t prevent the step she took toward it.

What could it hurt? I’ll just lie down for a couple of minutes, maybe a bit longer. Molly’s body sank into the soft mattress. The moon’s reflection caught on a picture on the facing dresser, and the last image she had as her eyelids slid to a close was of Pearce, on the beach, his long, lean, tanned body stretched out on the white sand. He could have been posing for a photo shoot. Molly drifted into sleep, feeling those muscular arms pulling her into the circle of his broad chest. She arched against him, a perfect fit.

She jerked awake. What time is it? How long did I sleep? She’d planned on only closing her eyes for a few minutes, yet now sunshine streamed in through the windows. Her gaze flew around the room. Someone was shaking her shoulder.

Wake up, Molly Mommy.”

Molly jerked her head around. Who was talking?

Molly Mommy.”

She heard the whisper, but saw no one. Molly lifted her head. A small blond haired child peeked at her from the end of the bed.

It’s time to get up. The sun is up already.”

Molly shook away the cobwebs coating her brain. Last night’s events came rushing back.

I’m hungry,” the child announced. “We have to eat. Then go get Daddy.”

Molly felt a terrible gnawing in the pit of her stomach. Oh, my God, how am I going to deal with this? What can I tell her? They couldn’t bring her dad home today. Molly put her hand to her abdomen but the pain didn’t go away. What if he never came home? Stop it. You can’t think like that.

Molly rolled off the bed. She needed to find the child’s next of kin so they could deal with this. Her career had mainly been dealing with adults. She didn’t have a clue how to tell a child about illness, and parents who might never come home.

Gracie, do you have a mommy?”

She’s gone. I want breakfast.” Gracie grabbed her hand and pulled her along the hall and down the stairs to the kitchen.

Oh great. That’s the same thing Pearce had said at the accident scene. Gone could mean anything. How can I find out what happened to her mother? Had she died? She needed to find someone to take the child, but she didn’t want to bring up bad memories. She tried another tactic. “Who lives here with you?”

Daddy and me.”

No one else?” Molly looked around the room. There were several pictures on a desk by the window. Pearce and Gracie. There wasn’t an adult female in one of them.

Nope. Just the two of us.”

This is getting us nowhere. Molly looked around the room, neat and tidy, the same as the rest of the house. By the business card she had in her pocket, Pearce Taylor was a practicing lawyer. Molly doubted he did his own cleaning and cooking. Was there a housekeeper?

Gracie, does somebody come in to look after you while your daddy is at work?”

I’m a Pink Panther.”

Molly raised an eyebrow. “What’s a pink panther?”

I’m a Pink Panther at my school.”

Do you have an aunt or a grandma?”

Gracie’s blond curls bounced. “Grandma Katherine.”

Molly let out an audible sigh. Finally a next of kin who could look after the child and let her get on her way.

But she doesn’t like to be called ‘Grandma.’”

No?” Molly tipped her head.

Nope. Makes her feel old.”

Molly crossed her fingers. “Do you have a phone number for your Grandma?”

Gracie raced out of the room and down the hall. Molly followed, her sandals clicking on the ceramic floor as she hurried to find out where the child had gone. She found her in a room to the left of the kitchen. It was a large den and smelled of pine and old leather. Molly took in the rich opulence of the room with the wall-to-wall bookshelves, the large cherry desk, and the chestnut brown leather couch. Gracie pulled open the top drawer of the desk, shuffled through some papers, then held up a leather-bound address book.

Daddy keeps his numbers here.”

As Molly accepted the book, she glanced at the photos on the desk–Gracie and Pearce at the beach, on the front lawn, at an amusement park. She could see the love for his child reflected in the tender expressions captured by the camera’s lens–pride, joy, devotion. It was obvious this child was his life.

Then another picture caught her attention. Behind the others, tilted away from direct view, Molly had to pick it up to see it properly. It was of Pearce, Gracie, and a woman in her mid to late fifties.

Who’s this?” Molly pointed to the woman.

Grandma Katherine.”

The woman sat primly on the edge of a red velvet Victorian chair. Pearce stood behind the woman, Gracie sat at her feet. An elongated pinched nose separated the woman’s high cheekbones, but it was the arched eyebrows and flat line of her smile that gave her an authoritarian air. Pearce’s mother? He did have an aristocratic profile, but there the resemblance seemed to end.

Involuntarily, a shiver sluiced down her spine. She thought of her own grandmother, whose chubby face was furrowed with years of laugher and a life well spent. She felt a wave of pity for the child. She needed to call ‘Grandma Katherine,’ but she wanted privacy for that.

Is this your daddy’s mother or your mother’s mommy?”

Mommy’s mother. I’m hungry. I want to eat. Now,” Gracie demanded.

Let’s get you something then.”

Molly denied the urge to pick up the phone, call the grandmother, and get her here to take over childcare. She wanted her commitment to Pearce to be wrapped up as soon as possible, yet she didn’t want to risk a toddler temper tantrum.

It was okay as a hospital nurse dealing with a few tears. You knew it was temporary and a parent would take the child home and deal with the behavior problems. This was different. This child was home, and Molly on her own. She had no idea how Gracie would react. In fact, she knew nothing about the child, except that she had a gorgeous, caring, but critically injured father. And once she handed the child over to Grandma, she would never see either one of them again.

The stomping of a tiny foot brought her back to reality. Molly almost laughed when she looked down and saw Gracie glaring at her. She must be starving. Other than the Popsicle at the hospital, she’d had nothing else to eat. She had been sleeping so soundly last night, Molly just put her into bed, clothes and all. When was the last time she’d had eaten?

I know where the kitchen is, but what am I going to feed her?

Come on.” Gracie pulled her toward the kitchen. The hand felt so small and delicate.

What do you want to eat?”

Peanut butter on toast.”

I think I can manage that.”

She’d found the kitchen last night, but her own hunger had been no match for her exhaustion. Sleep had won over her growling stomach. With Gracie beside her, she started opening doors.

She found a pantry brimming with groceries. There’s enough food to feed an army. Molly settled the child at the table with two pieces of toast slathered with peanut butter and a dollop of honey. She grabbed an apple, cut it up, and placed it beside the toast along with a glass of milk.

Gracie, I need to make a phone call. Are you all right for a few minutes?”

Gracie nodded, a thin layer of peanut butter coating her face.

Crossing to the den, Molly flipped through the address book. There were two people named Kathy in the book, but only one Katherine, a Katherine Nesbitt. Molly wished there was someone else to make the call. She took a deep breath and dialed the number.

Katherine Nesbitt, how may I help you?”

Mrs. Nesbitt, this is Molly Tanner. Are you Pearce Taylor’s mother?”

No. He is not my son.”

Molly closed her eyes and tried again. “Is Pearce Taylor your son-in-law?”

What is this about? Who are you?”

Molly clenched the receiver until her knuckles turned white. “My name is Molly Tanner. I’m a nurse. He was in an accident last night.”

She heard the sharp intake of breath. “What type of accident?”

His car hit a tree. He’s at the Middlesex Hospital, in the intensive care unit.”

There was silence on the other end, and Molly rushed on, “He’s doing okay. They had to take him to the operating room to stop the abdominal bleeding. He has a broken leg. That’s been fixed.”

Who are you?”

My name is Molly Tanner. I’m a nurse. I work at Saint Christopher’s. I was driving by and stopped to help.”

What is the doctor’s name?”

Molly’s fingers shook as she dug a piece of paper out of her jeans. “Doctor Summerville.”

There was a click, and the line went dead. Molly held the receiver in the air for several seconds.

What now? My only contact for the child, and she’s hung up on me.