The Seven Year Secret. Roz Fox Denny
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a huge logistics problem, Mallory.”
“Connor’s stateside again. And he’s not my ex. We were never married. In fact, he’s unaware he fathered a child. Believe me, Fredric, if I could see another donor on the horizon, I’d let things stand. But I’ll go to any lengths to ensure Liddy’s health and happiness.”
After an uncomfortable silence, she ventured in a less certain voice, “When is Liddy scheduled for surgery? I’ll have to run downstairs and arrange with Alec for more time away from work. Poor Alec. It’s only mid-May. I feel like I’ve barely gotten back into the swing after taking those months off to give Liddy Bea a kidney.”
Dahl leaned over and patted her shoulder. “From what I hear, Dr. Robinson and his staff would make any accommodation to keep you. Our esteemed administrator has said repeatedly how lucky we are to have you heading our fund-raisers.”
Mallory dredged up a thin smile. “I always thought he only offered me the PR job because I’d more or less become a fixture at the hospital during Mom’s illness. It coincided with my pregnancy, and I dashed out of her room so many times to throw up, Alec stopped to find out what was going on.”
“Your family’s suffered more than its share of medical setbacks. Odd how it sometimes works that way. But the illnesses aren’t related. Although, your dad’s arteriosclerotic heart disease has likely been exacerbated by worrying about your mother and Liddy and you. Not to mention all his responsibilities as a state senator.”
“Dad’s heart condition is exacerbated by the rich food he eats, the nightly brandy he drinks and those dreadful cigars he refuses to give up.”
This time Dahl’s chuckle was dry. “Your diagnosis may be closer to the mark than mine. Tough old codgers like Brad can be set in their ways. That’s why I wonder if you ought to reconsider contacting Liddy Bea’s father.”
“If anyone understands doing whatever it takes to help the people we love, it’ll be Dad. I haven’t seen or heard from Connor O’Rourke in almost seven years. But if there’s a chance in a million that one of his kidneys will lengthen Liddy Bea’s life, I’ll crawl to Miami on my hands and knees to beg.”
The slightly stooped, balding physician stared at her gravely. “I know you will, Mallory. I know you will.” He passed a hand over his sparse hair. “Lord knows, I want a perfect donor for Lydia, too. Yet I have to weigh that against worry over what you might be walking into. I’ve been involved with this business of begging for donor organs for twenty years. I’ve witnessed verbal squabbles, fistfights and actual bloodshed. I’ve seen parents divorce and families so torn apart they never speak to one another again. You, Mark and Bradford are rare in that any one of you would have given Lydia a kidney.”
Mallory stuffed the mutilated tissue into her pocket and stood to brush the remaining lint from her skirt. “Once upon a time, the man who fathered Liddy Bea had a tender heart buried under a tough outer shell. Surely it’s still there. Connor may hate me for not telling him he has a child, but he wouldn’t let his anger extend to his daughter.” Although the hand she placed on the doorknob wasn’t steady, Mallory hauled in a deep breath and squared her shoulders before leaving the conference room.
“Liddy’s surgery is at four o’clock.” Lowering his voice, Dahl fell in step with Mallory as they walked back along the cheerily lit hall. “We’ll insert a new cannula and start dialysis immediately. Peritoneal, if the abdominal wall is in good shape. So there’s no dire urgency about confronting her biological dad. I want Liddy recovered from this surgery before attempting another implant. Perhaps a donor will turn up on the national list by then.”
Mallory stopped outside Liddy’s room. “Every piece of literature you’ve given me says blood relatives are the preferable donors.”
Dr. Dahl twisted his lips. “True. But if I set aside the fact that I’m a doctor and view it instead from the perspective of a friend and a father of three—well, I’m worried you’ll be opening a can of worms. Fathers today demand and get parental rights in the courts.”
Mallory stared at Dahl from cloudy blue eyes, all the while twisting a strand of hair around her index finger. “I must be more exhausted than I thought. I don’t understand what you’re implying.”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Put yourself in Mr. O’Rourke’s shoes. Liddy is a bright, charming child. And you’ve had her all to yourself for six years.”
A burst of light exploded inside Mallory’s head, leaving her slightly woozy. She groped the doorknob to Liddy’s room for support. “You think Connor may decide it’s time to…share custody?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Then it’s a possibility I’ll have to deal with.” She inhaled quickly. “Liddy Bea was barely two when her kidneys first failed. For the next year and a half, she underwent hemodialysis. I sat there holding her night after night, listening to her sob in pain as one after another her veins collapsed or got horribly infected around the shunt. I rocked her throughout the long, dark hours when it seemed all either of us could do was cry. If only you knew how I prayed for a match on the national donor list—but…there were none. I thought giving her one of my kidneys, even though it wasn’t a hundred percent match, would be better than nothing. For eight months it was. For eight glorious months, she was normal. Happy. So, Fredric…I’d make a pact with the devil to see her that way again.”
Out of breath from her impassioned speech, Mallory wrenched open Liddy’s door, inadvertently banging it against the wall. The child’s translucent eyelids fluttered twice, revealing gray irises so like Connor O’Rourke’s. The gray eyes focused on Mallory, and a huge smile blossomed on Liddy’s face.
“Is it morning, Mommy? Are you here to take me home?”
Mallory steeled herself against the pain of telling Liddy Bea she’d be losing the kidney and going back on dialysis.
Bradford Forrest’s timely arrival gave Mallory a reprieve. The senator always entered a room as if he owned it. And considering the amount of money he’d donated over the years to the private hospital he’d been instrumental in seeing built, he probably did own a fair portion. Florida’s senior statesman remained a suave, handsome man, if one overlooked his tendency toward portliness.
Because Mallory loved him, she overlooked many of his faults. Friends and acquaintances were prone to say that her thick brown hair and direct blue eyes came from Brad, even though his hair was shot with silver now. The same folks joked that it was fortunate his daughter’s slender build and sweet disposition came from Bradford’s beloved wife. Beatrice had died just the day of Liddy’s birth, and he’d never truly recovered.
Recently reelected for a fifth term, Bradford was a powerful and influential force in Tallahassee and in many parts of the state. This man who made others quake turned to mush in the presence of his only grandchild. Like now, he drew a huge stuffed bunny from behind his back and plopped it on Liddy’s bed.
“Grandpapa!” The girl’s face lit up as her arms circled the toy. “Thank you! I’ll call her Flopsie Rabbit. Are you going to give me and Mommy a ride home? And will you and Davis drive me to school tomorrow?”
It was well-known that Liddy Bea loved riding to school in her grandfather’s chauffeured limousine, and that he often rearranged his busy schedule to accommodate her. He kept the limo’s bar stocked with her favorite juices, since hydration was of the utmost importance with her condition.
Senator Forrest was a man always in charge of any situation. This might be the first time he’d ever been at a loss for words. He flashed Mallory a helpless glance and mumbled, “I…uh…came because Fredric’s office left…ah…a message with my secretary.”
Mallory understood. Dr. Dahl, who’d become a good friend of the family, hadn’t wanted her to go through Liddy’s impending surgery alone. They’d moved out of their own apartment and in with her father a few weeks before the first transplant, and ever since then, the three Forrests had functioned as a more traditional family might. Just