A Mom For His Daughter. Jean C. Gordon
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Fiona would have given up her job and come back to the States if Mairi had said she needed her. Fiona closed her eyes. Hadn’t she known that?
“Are you all right?” Autumn asked.
“As all right as I can be. One more thing. I’d like a copy of Mairi’s medical records.”
“Of course. I can have the records ready for you to pick up after noon tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I’ll stop in on my lunch break.”
Fiona left in an emotional fog, settled her bill and almost physically ran into Marc and Stella in the building entryway.
“Hi,” Marc said.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted, failing in her attempt to pull herself together.
“Seeing the pediatrician who’s here at the center a couple of times a week.”
Her cheeks heated. “Is Stella all right?”
Fiona’s gaze dropped from his face to the little girl wrapped around his leg, finger stuck in her mouth. An arrow of pain struck her heart. Last evening when she’d seen Stella with Marc, she’d allowed that it could have been her imagination fired by her renewed grief over her sister’s death. But it wasn’t. Stella was a mini Mairi.
“It’s her regular wellness appointment.”
“Ah, does that mean someone has a birthday soon?” Fiona smiled at Stella, who tightened her grip on Marc.
“Not until March third, but I wanted to get her set up with a doctor here.”
Marc’s words after March third, the birth date of Mairi’s daughter, were more a hum in Fiona’s ears than actual words. “What agency did you and your wife use to adopt Stella?” Fiona blurted. But even before he answered, the truth rang in her like a bell, with the memory of her sister’s final words: Find her.
* * *
Marc stared at Fiona, and then over her shoulder at the door to the Birthing Center, Autumn and Jon’s practice. Bittersweet remembrances of Cate and all the tests to determine why they couldn’t conceive rolled over him.
Fiona shuffled her feet and twisted the strap on her purse. “I was wondering.” Her words rushed out. “For one of my classmates from grad school who I keep in touch with. I assume you used a downstate agency.”
She looked at him with an eager expression that made him wonder if the information really was for a friend. “No, we used Precious in His Sight, a private Christian agency in Glens Falls. It serves all of New York state.” He glanced at Stella and experienced the awe and gratitude he still got just knowing she was his. “Tell your friend I highly recommend them.”
“Daddy.” Stella tugged at his hand. “Good girl prize.” The pediatrician Cate had taken Stella to in New York gave her a small prize at every appointment. He had no idea if the doctor here did the same, and had explained that to Stella.
He turned back to Fiona. She was staring at his daughter with a look of longing that made him wonder if she was the one who wanted to adopt. “I’d better get Stella in for her appointment.”
“Of course.” Fiona pulled her gaze from Stella, concern replacing the longing on her face.
“Thanks for the information. I’ll tell...I’ll tell my friend, and be in touch.”
He watched her walk out, assuming she meant she’d be in touch about La Table Frais.
“Daddy. Her go away. ’Pointment.”
He didn’t know whether Stella was making an observation about Fiona leaving or expressing a preference—not that it mattered. His relationship with Fiona was business.
A half hour later, Marc was sitting in the pediatrician’s exam room with the doctor and Stella.
The doctor had finished Stella’s exam. “I read the medical records from Stella’s previous doctor. She’s always been in the lower third of children her age in height and weight. Am I correct in assuming her mother is petite?”
He leaned forward on the arms of the chair. “I don’t really know. Stella is adopted.”
The doctor made a note on a pad beside her. “I don’t want to alarm you, but over the months since her last checkup, she’s fallen into the lowest tenth. With that and the stomach upsets you said she’s been experiencing, I want to refer her to a gastroenterologist at the Adirondack Medical Center. Dr. Franklin.”
From the way the doctor’s expression softened, the fear careening through him must have shown on his face. She looked more the grandmother she might be and less the medical professional.
“Dr. Franklin is a good man as well as physician. Great with kids. We can set up the appointment for you, or I can send a referral and you can make it yourself.”
“Send the referral. I’ll make the appointment.” After I talk with Autumn or Jon. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the pediatrician. But he didn’t know her. He’d grown up with Autumn, gone all through school with her and knew he could trust her opinion.
“Daddy, Stella good girl?”
“Yes, you were a very good girl.” He lifted her down from the examination table and looked at the doctor apologetically. “Her other pediatrician gave her what he called a good girl prize after her exams.”
The doctor smiled. “It just so happens I have something for you, Stella.” She handed Stella a coloring book called Teddy Bear Goes to the Doctor’s.
“What do you say, Stella?”
The little girl beamed. “Fank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Marc couldn’t help but compare how at ease Stella was with the doctor to the way she’d hugged his leg and tried to hide behind him the whole time he’d talked with Fiona in the entryway. Maybe she was experiencing an aversion to younger women or, as Claire had suggested, women Cate’s age who had light hair like she’d had. Stella was okay around his sisters.
Marc rubbed the middle of his forehead. He didn’t know why he was even concerned about Stella and Fiona together. It wasn’t as if there would be many occasions for that—no matter his attraction.
The doctor typed a note into her tablet. “I’ll get that referral off to the gastroenterologist. You should be set to make the appointment this afternoon.”
“Thanks.” He took Stella’s papers and her hand and checked out.
“Let’s see what we can rustle up for lunch,” he said as he walked her to the car.
“Let’s rustle lunch.” She giggled, her full sentence capturing his heart with hope that she was making progress.
After lunch, Stella fell asleep on the couch while coloring in her new book, and he straightened up the place, waiting for his friends Autumn or Jon to return the call he’d left for them. He squatted to pick up Stella’s crayons but thought better. She should pick them up. It’s how Mom would do it.
His phone vibrated, and he pulled it from his back pocket. Private Caller. Probably the birthing center number. Marc swiped the screen to answer as he walked to the kitchen.
“Hello.”
“Marc? It’s Autumn. I got your message. What’s up?”
It could be his concern about Stella and the referral, but Autumn’s casual question sounded forced. He told her about Stella’s exam.
“What do you know about Dr. Franklin at the medical center?”
“The best in the area, especially for children.” Autumn paused. “Anything else?”
“No, that’s it. I wanted a second opinion.”
“Okay, then,”