The Switch (17 page)

The first private eye report came back in late January. Rashelle Ibson Moon was married with an infant son. She and her husband lived in New York State, where she’d attended college. The PI verified that Rashelle was one of the other girls at the hospital with Tia. The pictures he sent also made it unlikely that she was the one for whom Tia searched. None of her features looked right, so Tia checked her off the list. If she had to go back to Rashelle later, she’d deal with it then.

Lisa Lowell’s file showed up a few days later. Comparatively speaking, Lisa was practically next door in Jefferson City, Missouri. Less than three hours away. The photos of her were far more promising, even if they were taken from a distance. She owned a little gift shop and had only one part-time clerk working for her. Tia put Lisa at the top of her list.

Dates with Danny were getting more and more frequent, and Tia loved her time with him. Still, as the anniversary of Lee’s death drew closer, she struggled with dreams of him, of his final battle. He had died the week before her twenty-fifth birthday, and then his gift had arrived in the mail, two days after the funeral. She looked up at the carving of a rose he’d picked out for her days before his death, and wondered how he would have felt about Danny.

Danny Tullis was one of the strongest men she knew. He was honest and hardworking, gentle with her and the kids, and willing to stick his neck out to help her. She’d seen the way he’d reacted after the accident where the little girl died. She knew he adored her daughters. And he’d dropped hints, with increasing frequency, that he was interested in something a little more permanent with Tia.

How could that be wrong?

She wasn’t sure she was ready for it, though. He was talking serious future stuff here, stuff she’d already been through and embraced years earlier. And didn’t he know she had too much on her plate already? Why did he have to come into her life right now, of all times?

Then again, he’d been a tremendous support. He’d helped find the doctor who’d worked at the hospital when she’d been there. He’d put out feelers and helped her find three of the four PIs she ended up engaging to find the other women. He’d been there as friend, confidant, and babysitter when Nichole wasn’t available, cheering her up when she felt down, turning to her when he had a bad day at work. He was sharing her life in ways she didn’t think she’d even shared them with Lee, if only because her husband had so seldom been around.

And Danny had fed her and the girls ice cream for breakfast. Really, could he be any more awesome? Samantha would say no, of course, but she was an idealistic kid with no clue of reality. Strangely, Tia was also starting to feel rather idealistic where Danny was concerned.

The doorbell rang and Tia put down the report from the private eye, a smile on her face.

* * *

The sun was setting when Tia pulled up at Wes’s office. Her brother worked for a company that did online marketing and he managed to have regular business hours most of the time. His shift should be ending in a few minutes, so she parked her car and checked for his in the lot. Finding the electric blue Miata, Tia knew he was inside.

She had tried to track him down several times since Samantha’s party, but it hadn’t been easy to get him alone. Too many people had been around for Christmas and Thanksgiving. It made her think he must have been avoiding her, which only made her more determined to find him.

She pushed through the double doors into the muted blue reception area and smiled at the man sitting behind the front desk. “Hi, I’m Wes Parry’s sister. Is he still in?”

“Yes. If you’d like to take a seat, I’ll be happy to get him for you.”

Tia sat, though she fidgeted constantly. When Wes came through the door several minutes later, he carried his coat and laptop bag. “I’m going to cut out ten minutes early,” he told her as he shrugged on his coat. “Where are the girls?”

“Nichole has them. You care to grab some dinner?”

His brows lifted and he studied her. “Is this a conversation we can have in public?”

She stared back at him. “Are you expecting it to turn ugly?”

She saw his cheek bulge when he pushed his tongue against it. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I doubt you’d have tracked me down here, without your girls, if we weren’t going to have a serious talk. Besides you have that look in your eye, the one that says you turned on the barbecue and I should prepare to be grilled.”

“You’re irritating, you know that?” She stood and adjusted her coat.

“I think you may have mentioned that completely mistaken opinion once or twice before.” He put a hand on her shoulder and led her out to the parking lot. “Want to meet at my place? I’ll order some Chinese to be delivered.”

“Sounds good.”

Fifteen minutes later she pulled into a visitor’s parking spot at his condo. He met her at the door. “Come on in.”

Tia removed her coat and draped it over a chair. She sat on the leather sofa and curled her feet beneath her. “So what are we ordering for dinner?”

“I did it on the way here. The food should arrive any minute.” He pulled off his tie and laid it over his coat, then took a nearby chair. As if by mutual design, they discussed the girls and his job, but nothing of her search or the news about the cause of her parents’ divorce.

The Chinese arrived and Tia loaded her plate. When Wes had done the same, she tiptoed into the main topic on her mind. “I have to say, you didn’t appear terribly surprised by the reason Mom and Dad split up.”

He grimaced. “No, I heard about it before everything was finalized. People in town seemed to know, and were eager to share the truth with me. I’m surprised you weren’t aware before now.”

“You knew then and didn’t tell me?” The betrayal of that was strong. “Didn’t you think I had a right to know?”

“Look. What good would it have done to tell you? You were only eleven! Did you
need
to know that about your mother? I wished I hadn’t known. Strangely, people seemed to think it was their duty to make sure I was aware—after all, I was the grown up age of fourteen. Well past ready to hear the truth.” Sarcasm dripped from his words.

Tia paused, considering for the first time how it must have felt for him. She now understood why he’d chosen to live with their father, instead of with their mom. He’d always been closer to their dad, which Tia had taken as the reason Wes had defected from their home when their parents split. Their mom’s cheating would have been difficult for him to accept. “I can’t believe I had no idea.”

They both ate for several seconds before he changed the subject. “So Mom’s been on a tear since the birthday party. She says she thinks the DNA tests are wrong.”

Tia rolled her eyes. She filled him in on all the details. He’d heard some of them from Mona, but predictably, she’d twisted the facts to suit herself.

“So you’re searching for the other woman?” he asked when she’d wound down.

“Yeah. I’m getting close. I’m still waiting on the last name to come back. Claire Hogan. Once the PI reports to me I should be ready to move forward.” This was the place where things got dicey. It had taken a long time to decide to contact the other women, but she needed to be careful about it.

“And how many women are left on your list?”

“One for sure. I keep hoping Clair is going to come back half Asian or something so I’ll be able to focus on Lisa.”

“And once you know, then what?”

“Good question.” She played with her noodles. “I’m going to have to make contact, but I’m still not sure who or how.”

“Let me know how it goes. I’m curious about how it’ll turn out.” He shrugged when he caught her gaze. “I don’t know how I feel about it. It’s not like it makes that much of a difference to me. We’re not kids and my life won’t be turned upside down. I won’t refuse to meet her if she’s interested, but it’s not going to change my life.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Considering how Mona had been acting, Tia had forgotten that she was the one who cared the most about how this turned out. Needing to change the subject, she settled back against the sofa and began telling him all of the funny things the girls had done recently.

Lisa called goodbye to a customer and let her smile drop. She hadn’t slept well the night before and could really use a nap. The shop wouldn’t allow that, however, and her part-time clerk was off for the day. She walked to the stack of envelopes the mail lady had brought in a few minutes earlier and began to sort through them. Her mind was half on what she should wear on her date with Colby that night. After tossing the junk mail, she flipped back through the keep stack until she arrived at the white envelope again. She didn’t recognize the name in the upper right hand corner, but as the address was hand written, it was unlikely to be junk mail.

T. Riverton. Lisa flipped it over and opened it, pulling out one type-written sheet. She read the first paragraph and dropped into a nearby chair. This was obviously a mistake—there was no way she had been switched as a baby. She refolded it and pitched it in the garbage can, then sorted out the rest of the bills and filed them to be paid.

She looked up and greeted the next customer as they came into her boutique. More customers entered and she stayed busy, helping them find what they were looking for, putting out new merchandise and preparing statements for some of her better clients. The letter in the garbage stayed on her mind, though, lingering and creating doubt.

When she locked up that night she fished the letter from the garbage, reread it, then tossed it again. It had to be a sick joke, and she wasn’t going to fall for it.

* * *

Danny gave one of the firefighters the go ahead after taking his vitals. The break had been sufficient; Mark could go back into the house fire. He wiped down the blood pressure cuff with a sanitizing wipe and smiled as the next man came to the ambulance doors. Structure fires held lots of dangers, and stress on the firefighters was one of them. After the crew members inside had emptied their air tanks, protocol required they come to the ambulance and be checked out before going back into the blaze.

“How’s it looking in there?” Danny asked as he helped the guy from Station 3 strip off his jacket so the blood pressure cuff would fit.

“Bad. The house will be a total loss.” He shook his head. “Looks like it started in one of the back rooms.”

Danny nodded as he slid the oxygen sensor onto a finger of the man’s left hand. “It was a beautiful house once.” He glanced back out the window and saw a figure on the roof wielding an ax. “What’s he doing up there?” Venting out the roof was a common practice, but the fire was too big and had been burning too long. There was no way the roof was safe at this point.

The man looked out the doorway and swore. “Fool.”

“Did you get something to drink?” Danny turned the conversation, but kept an eye on the burning structure. A woman came in, her short-cropped hair plastered to her head, soot on her face. He switched the blood pressure cuff to her and gave her oxygen. Then a call came up and he swiveled his head to see nothing but flames where the man on the roof had been standing only moments before. His heart leaped as adrenaline pumped through him.

A few minutes later he cleared the firefighters from the ambulance so they could bring the man from the roof in. He’d fallen through, breaking his leg upon landing. Smoke inhalation and possible internal injuries made it all worse as the man gasped for breath. Another ambulance arrived, having been called to take over so the first crew could transport the firefighter to the hospital.

Danny hurriedly did an assessment on the man as they rushed to the trauma center.

* * *

Tia’s mouth tightened as she listened to the news report. A firefighter was in critical condition after a roof caved in with him on it. She had spoken to Danny only minutes before she saw the report, so she knew he was well, but he had sugarcoated the man’s condition. Tia wasn’t sure if that was because of privacy laws, or to keep her from worrying, but she was plenty worried now.

She’d always known that Lee’s job was dangerous. He was a soldier in a hostile country. Soldiers died. Firefighters weren’t supposed to, though. Fires could be dangerous, yes, but it wasn’t like anyone was shooting at them.

Now she realized things were not quite what she’d thought. That so easily could have been Danny. He could be the one in a hospital bed right now, fighting for his life. Could she live with that? With the fact that there was so much more risk than she ever realized?

When she started seeing visions of him getting hit by a car at an accident scene, she clicked off the television. She was
not
turning into her mother! There was no way she would jump at shadows or be unreasonable.

But the lingering fear wouldn’t go away, no matter what she did.

Claire grabbed the mail as she let herself into her apartment. Home sweet home: it was a dive. She ignored the water spots on the ceiling from a recent rain and pulled out the only envelope she didn’t recognize. T. Riverton.

She stretched out on her love seat—a feat which could only be accomplished with much of her leg flopping over the arm on the far end. She read the note once, cocked her head and read again. Surely this Tia woman was crazy.

Then she thought about all of the times she’d felt out of sync with her world, her family. Could it be possible? She flipped on the TV and searched for the morning news. The answers wouldn’t be there, but she watched anyway, not feeling her eyelids droop as they so often did after a night shift.

She looked at the clock and decided she’d give this Tia a call as soon as the hour was decent.

* * *

Tia spooned up the last of her oatmeal and set the bowl away in the dishwasher, hurrying to put the kitchen to rights. It seemed she did nothing but rush to try to catch up these days, and the late start due to lack of sleep last night wasn’t helping. “Tristi!” Tia stopped in irritation and looked down at her daughter, who was covered in diaper rash cream from top to bottom. It was in her hair, rubbed into her clothes, and dotted the carpet around her.

After a slow count to ten, Tia scooped up her toddler and hauled her into the bathroom. That was one darling new outfit that would never be the same again. She stripped Tristi and plopped her into a bath, hoping this wouldn’t make her late for work. Then the phone rang. Giving her daughter a stern look, Tia rushed to the other room to grab her cell and hurried right back. She didn’t recognize the number of the incoming call. “Hello?”

“Hi, is this Tia?”

“Yes, can I help you?”

“My name is Claire. I got your letter this morning. I wondered if we could talk.”

Tia’s heart started to beat double-time, and she wished she could focus on the conversation, but Tristi was splashing water, and needed her hair washed, which was bound to be a pain. “I’d love to, but now is a really bad time for me.” She poured a dollop of baby shampoo in her hand and started working it into Tristi’s soft curls. “As mornings go, it’s been rather nightmarish, actually.”

“Oh, well, if this is a bad time . . . ” Claire’s disappointment was obvious.

“I’m really sorry. I’ve got my baby in the bath and I have to get to work. I should be available after one-thirty, if you’d like me to call you back later.” This was her chance to finally get some answers. Maybe. She winced as Tristi splashed some more, and started to wail when Tia poured water over her foamy hair.

“That would work. This number’s good for me.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Tristi slapped at her mom’s arm and Tia, crouched at the side of the tub, wavered slightly. She reached out and grabbed the side of the tub.

Then watched her cell phone plop into the water.

She had a feeling this was going to be a very bad day.

* * *

Danny had a much smoother experience getting through the security blockade the second time he came to the news station. He sauntered across the floor and watched her feverishly chopping vegetables. She looked agitated, her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she lifted her hand to rub a flyaway piece away from her face with the back of her wrist.

“Hey. I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” he said when she glanced up at him.

Her lips pursed. “Yeah, my phone’s not working at the moment.” She slid the onions off to the side and scooped them into a cup, measuring them.

He studied her carefully. This was about more than her phone not working. “Is your battery dead?”

“In a manner of speaking.” She didn’t look up at him. “Actually, I was giving Tristi a bath this morning and it fell into the tub.”

He knew she bathed the girls at night, so could only assume a morning bath was the result of some catastrophe. It amused him, though he wasn’t about to show it when she was upset—he didn’t have a death wish. “What did she do that required a morning bath?”

 
She began slicing the green peppers with gusto. “Diaper cream. Everywhere. Her clothes are ruined.”

Her eyes filled and a tear threatened to slip out. She blinked, then took a deep breath. “It’s not been a banner day so far. Though, Claire called me, so that was good. Maybe. Of course I was in the middle of the bath so I couldn’t talk. I should have let it go to voice mail. Who knows if my phone will ever work again.”

Danny walked around the counter, took the knife from her hands, and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, it’s all right. It’s not the end of the world.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, her voice coming out muffled. “No, it’s just one more thing in a long line.”

“I know.” He held her tight and brushed his lips along her temple. “You’re going through the wringer right now. Hold on, it’ll get better.” He nudged her face up and rubbed at the damp trail her tear had left behind. “And in the meantime, I’m here for you.” He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, wishing he could make it all better.

“I know. Thank you.” But she didn’t make eye contact with him, and pulled from his arms.

Danny let her go, but wondered if she was embarrassed to have broken down at work, or if she was upset with him again. Had he done something wrong? He watched her turn back to the counter and start chopping again. “So,” he changed the subject, hoping it would perk her up, “I got a call from Laura last night. She and Gavin have decided to get married. They’re thinking late April for the wedding.” He reached out, and caught the tendril of hair that had escaped her elastic, tucking it behind her ear.

Her hands paused for a heartbeat before continuing on. “That’s great. I hope things go well for them. Laura deserves some happiness after everything she’s been through.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Danny studied Tia’s body language and wondered what was going on inside her head. He’d thought he was starting to understand her, but was lost now.

When she finished her preparations, Tia borrowed his cell phone and looked up a number she’d scrawled across her notes for the day. “I was hoping to get a minute to call Claire back and explain,” she said as she dialed. A moment later she frowned, then left a message, “Hey, Claire, this is Tia, sorry about the call this morning. I was bathing my toddler and dropped the phone in the water. I’ll call again as soon as I get my phone replaced. Thanks.” She ended the call and returned the phone. “Thanks, I appreciate you coming by,” she said to Danny.

“Because you couldn’t possibly have borrowed anyone else’s phone,” he joked.

Her lips curved up, but not into a full smile. “Thanks anyway. So how was work yesterday?”

Danny stayed with her until he was shooed back to the control room to watch the news, but he wondered why he bothered. She didn’t seem to need or want his presence.

* * *

Claire was relieved when she heard why her phone call with Tia had ended so abruptly. At least she seemed to have a good excuse. Still, it was maddening waiting to hear from her again. Claire wanted answers, and she wasn’t known for her patience. In her opinion, the secrets had been kept too long as it was. She wanted confirmation that there was a reason she didn’t fit into her family.

“Claire, settle down,” her fiancé, Carl, said when she puttered around the house all afternoon and evening. “I know you’re anxious, but giving into your jitters isn’t going to make it straightened out faster.”

“Maybe I should go to Kansas City,” she said. “I have a couple days off. We could get it all cleared up in no time.” She moved toward the bedroom thinking she would pack a bag, anxious to do something.

He snagged her hand as she walked past and tugged her into his lap. “How about if I give you something else to think about?”

“Carl, I’m serious.” She put a hand on his chest and pushed back, but he snaked an arm around her, not letting her get too far away.

“So am I.” He tipped his head and studied her. “You promised to marry me, but then you refuse to make any wedding plans. How about if we firm up a few things. Like the date.”

She saw the impatience in his eyes and knew she had been dangling him along. He deserved better. At the same time, she didn’t feel ready to make final plans yet. Not now things might be changing. Claire straightened his collar, which didn’t need it despite the fact that he had undone the top two buttons of his shirt when he got home. His tie hung from the lamp on the end table. She knew he hated wearing them.

Carl had been so good to her, sweet, understanding and supportive through everything. When she’d had a tough day at work, he listened and consoled. When she had an argument with her mom—was she really Tia’s mom?—he cajoled her into a better mood, distracted her with kisses and promises of a future together. He said she would be much wiser with their children. She liked the idea of raising children with him, of holding his hand as they moved into the future. But setting an exact date gave her the heebie-jeebies.

In response to his suggestion, she gave him a soft kiss, then pulled back, running a finger over his cheeks, following the contours. “I need to clear this up first.”

He groaned, rolling his head back on the sofa. “You keep coming up with excuses for why we haven’t set a date. So I give you a week and then you want another, then another, and another.” He tipped his head back up and his eyes bored into hers, his pain clear. “Do you want to marry me or not?”

Claire closed her eyes, if only to block out the sight of his pain. He had been so patient. “Yes. I just . . . look I promise, as soon as I get this cleared up and know if this family really is mine, I’ll set a date and we’ll start making plans. As soon as I get answers.”

He ran a thumb over her bottom lip and she shivered slightly at the rasp of his callous across the soft skin.

“You promise?”

“Pinky swear.” She lifted her hand and held out her pinky as evidence.

He replaced his thumb with his mouth in acceptance of her terms.

* * *

It was almost two days before Tia called again. Claire had been nearly ready to get someone to cover for her, pile her things into the car and start driving—even if she didn’t have Tia’s home address. She’d done her homework and knew Tia worked at the television station. Someone there would know how to reach her.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to resort to that. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I was hoping when my phone dried out for a day or so it might work again,” Tia explained when she finally called.

“No such luck?” Claire asked.

“Nope, I had to pick up another one. Anyway, Dad agreed to pay for another DNA test. I can have the swabs sent straight to you, and you can return them to the lab through the mail.”

Claire glanced at her calendar to see what her work schedule was going to be. “How long would it take for the kit to arrive?”

“The last one took three days. We have a weekend squeezed in there, so probably by Monday.”

“Perfect.
 
I’m off work Tuesday and Wednesday, and I’d like to meet you and your parents.” She referred to them as Tia’s even though she already thought of them as her own. She couldn’t wait to learn all about them.

“You don’t have to make the trip. It’ll take half the day.”

“That’s okay. I admit I’m getting anxious for answers. If I hadn’t heard from you in the next day or so, I might have shown up on your doorstep anyway.”

Tia chuckled. “I understand your anxiety. This has been driving me crazy since October.”

Claire wouldn’t have used the word anxiety, as that insinuated she was worried or nervous. She was excited. “I don’t know how you’ve managed then.” She asked Tia a dozen questions about her family: Mona and Ron and their jobs, Wes, the big brother Claire had always wanted but never had. She was dying to get to know them all. When she had the first set of answers—not nearly enough, but they would suffice for a few days—she made arrangements for the visit, then hung up.

Carl was munching a bowl of cereal by the kitchen sink. When she turned to face him, his expression wasn’t nearly as excited as her own.

“You know things might not be quite as hearts and flowers as you’d like,” he warned her. “Tia seems nice, and has told you a bunch about her family, but that doesn’t mean they’ll welcome you with open arms.”

Claire scowled. “I know that.” She didn’t believe it, though. It might be awkward the first day or so, and the wait for the official word would take forever—even if she would know in less than two weeks. She picked up the bridal magazine she’d been flipping through when Tia called. It was one Carl had purchased as a nudging reminder weeks earlier—even though she didn’t think a traditional dress was really in her future. She preferred to live outside the box. Since she’d promised to set a date in the next couple of weeks, she figured flipping through it for ideas wouldn’t kill her, even if it made her chest seize with anxiety.

She heard Carl set the bowl on the countertop. He walked over and sat beside her. “I don’t want to steal your excitement or ruin your happiness. I just don’t want you to get so worked up when there’s still a chance it might not be what you want it to be.”

“You don’t want me to belong to this other couple.” It hurt that he was trying to take away her excitement. Why couldn’t he be happy for her?