Hidden in the Heart (7 page)

“I’d love to see your mom. And she’s expecting us. Don’t be silly.”

“Okay. Well, here we are.”

Belinda led the way up a long flight of stairs and Michelle followed her into the offices of Shephard and Ferguson. The interior of the building was refreshingly modern, crisp clean lines and bold colors. Contemporary black leather furniture, sleek, not too over the top. Modern art hung from the walls, the largest spaces taken up with framed architectural drawings. Fresh flowers sat on the glass table in the waiting area. Whoever the decorator was certainly had an eye for detail.

A young woman seated behind the desk in the reception room glanced up with a friendly smile. “Ah, Mrs. Cassidy. You’re right on time. How was the drive?” She pushed back her chair and rose, revealing a gently rounding stomach.

Belinda greeted her with her signature double air-kiss. “Lovely. No traffic at all. How are you, dear? You’re looking great. This is my friend, Michelle Hart. She’s here in Don’s stead. She has impeccable taste. Michelle, this is Melanie Shephard. Melanie is married to Steven, the contractor, and her brother is James Ferguson, my architect.”

“Nice to meet you.” Michelle didn’t have a hope of remembering all that, but she extended a hand and the redhead shook it with sincere enthusiasm.

“It’s wonderful of you to come.” She smiled, blue eyes sparkling. She looked like she was about to say something else, but didn’t. A frown creased her forehead but then the smile returned. “James is expecting you, Mrs. Cassidy.”

She had to be in her last few months of pregnancy. Just starting to feel uncomfortable and unable to sleep well.

Michelle shifted her gaze.

“Can I get you both some coffee?”

Michelle shook her head with a smile. “No, thanks. Shouldn’t you be at home with your feet up…” What was her name again? “…Melanie?”

Melanie Shephard’s laugh was cheerful and she waved a hand. “Oh, no. I’ve awhile to go yet. And my mother was overdue with all of us, so we’ll see what happens with me.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Belinda shot Michelle her ‘I’ll head her off at the pass’ look and for once Michelle didn’t mind. “Is James in his office? Come along, Shel.”

She breezed past the desk before Melanie could interject. Michelle smiled an apology and followed her friend down a narrow passageway. Belinda rapped on an open door and walked right in. Michelle lingered outside. Maybe she’d just go down the street and grab
some coffee.

“Shelly, are you coming?”

Or not.

She smothered a sigh and went into the office. An attractive man, possibly in his late twenties, stood behind a long metal desk, the glass top covered in plans. Dressed in faded jeans and a button-down shirt, un-tucked and a little rumpled, he looked more like the contractor.

“Here we are! I hope we’re not late.” Belinda took off her jacket and indicated the other chair for Michelle. She stayed put near the doorway.

“Not a bit. Nice to see you again, Mrs. Cassidy.” He flicked a strand of sandy brown hair off his forehead, looked past Belinda, removed a pair of silver-rimmed glasses and stared. “Hello.”

“James Ferguson, Michelle Hart.” Belinda was all business now, barely giving them time to shake hands. “Okay, show me what you’ve got.”

Michelle moved off to one side, uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of James Ferguson’s hazel eyes. She didn’t remember people in Connecticut staring so much.

The young man cleared his throat and bent over the drawings. In another moment Belinda was crowing over whatever he was showing her. Michelle peered over her friend’s shoulder and gave a few enthusiastic ooh’s and aah’s every now and then.

After an hour, Belinda was ready to go. Michelle couldn’t wait. The guy was giving her the heebie-jeebies.

“Isn’t he a genius, Shel?”

“Very talented. You must give me a card.” Michelle smiled effortlessly as the words slipped off her tongue. Schmoozing she could do.

“Sure.” He gave her a thin white card and a lop-sided grin. “You…uh…work for
Senator Harrison, don’t you?”

Relief lowered her blood pressure. So maybe he wasn’t so creepy. “You follow politics?”

“Occasionally. I thought I recognized you.”

Michelle slipped his card into her purse and shrugged. “I’m on television a lot.”

“Well, I just love what you’ve come up with, James,” Belinda interrupted. “So exciting to finally be at this stage. We’re on schedule to break ground next week, yes?”

Michelle took a look around the spacious office as Belinda yammered, scanning the photographs on the shelves. One caught her eye. A close-up of a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair, bending over a pair of golden labs, the background faded out around them. She edged closer, staring at the gold locket around the girl’s neck. A knot twisted in her stomach and she turned away.

“How’s your wife doing, James?” Belinda asked, all tea and sympathy. “Is she back to work now? I hope she didn’t have that nasty flu that’s going around.”

The man shook his head. “No, nothing like that, thank God. She’s just…uh…going through a bit of a rough patch. She’ll be back to work soon, I’m sure.”

Michelle caught the unspoken sorrow in his eyes as they captured hers. The shadows around them said that was not quite the truth.

He held her gaze for a moment, as though he was looking for something—something she definitely did not possess. “Well.” He smiled and turned his attention back to Belinda. “We have a new designer on board now, taking over for Claire, just temporarily of course, but I’d be glad to set up a meeting for you.”

“Wonderful.” Belinda took another card from him. A few minutes later they were heading down the street back to the car.

“So, what did you think? Isn’t he amazing? And a good architect to boot!” Belinda’s
wicked laughter floated on the air.

Michelle stopped walking. “You’re incorrigible. Leave the poor man alone.”

There it was. Just across the street. But the brownstone building she’d expected to see wasn’t there. A florist shop stood in its place. Outside the shop, irises, sunflowers, roses of every color, and fragrant white lilies blended into a vibrant display that made her stop and catch her breath. A bucket full of bright pink and red Gerber daises captured her attention, threw memories hard and fast.

She shouldn’t have come here.

“They closed down about ten years ago.” Belinda’s voice softened and she gave a little sigh. “Merged all the smaller town offices together and moved to a big building in Hartford.”

“Oh.” Michelle blew air through her lips. A faint buzzing sounded in her ears. If she’d any inkling this was going to be so difficult, she’d never have agreed to it.

“You all right?” Belinda stood in front of her, her eyes shimmering in the afternoon sun.

Michelle pushed back her shoulders. “Of course. Ready to go?”

Belinda tipped her head and applied a layer of lipstick. “Did you ever…you know…wonder?”

“Wonder what?”

“Shel…”

“No.” The answer rushed out of her. She let out another breath and steadied herself. Pull it together, Shel. Leave it alone.

“What do you think Kevin would say?”

The dull ache in her chest returned. “The question is irrelevant.” Michelle unclasped the butterfly clip that held her hair in place, twisted it up again and clipped it tight. She pulled
at the belt of her spring coat and redid the knot. “Why are we talking about this?”

“Do you honestly think he’d hold it against you?”

Belinda sounded so innocent that Michelle had to laugh. “Do you honestly think he wouldn’t?”

Belinda took off her sunglasses and gave a dramatic sniff that signaled she was on the verge of an emotional outburst. “I think about it every now and then, at the strangest times. Sometimes I wonder how you got through it.”

“Please, Belinda. Can you give it a rest?” Michelle balked at the slight edge of hysteria in her own voice. She took a deep, relaxing breath. There was absolutely no point in venturing down that road.

“I’m sorry, Shel. I just thought…maybe we should talk about it.”

Michelle took a last look around and shook her head. “There’s nothing to talk about.” She faltered at the sadness in Belinda’s eyes, tempted for a moment to give in, find the nearest coffee shop and rip the lid off every bit of emotion she’d tamped down and buried someplace deep within her.

So deep she doubted she’d find it.

Instead, she smiled and shook her head. “Come along, Miss Naiveté, your mother will be wondering where we are.” Michelle slipped an arm through her friend’s and pulled her toward the car.

Perhaps it had been good to come here and get a brief glimpse into her past, to remember where she had come from.

To remember just how far she’d come. Remember all she had endured, suffered and accepted in the name of something she now no longer understood.

And to remind herself once again, that there would be no going back.

Chapter Six

Claire paced the sidewalk. She hadn’t known for sure where she was headed when she’d gotten behind the wheel that morning. Somehow the car ended up in Hartford. She stopped walking and stared at the sign on the building in front of her.

This was the Hogwarts of her imagination. This place held all her secrets, contained magical mysteries with the power to change everything she knew about herself. But there were no turrets. No black robed professors or magic wands. No flying owls delivering messages to explain all. Just a plain old building, three storey’s high with black lettering on the door that read
The Department of Children and Families
.

She wrestled with the idea of actually going in, jumping out of the way as people walked by. She stood close enough to feel the breeze as the doors swung open and closed.

Flowers added color to the scene, purple petunias and green ferns hanging from baskets on the lampposts. Spring was lovely this year. Not that she got outside enough to enjoy it. The past few months had been a struggle. But maybe now…now that she was making an effort to live again…

The sun warmed her face and almost had her believing it was a normal day.

But there was nothing normal about it. There was nothing normal at all about standing in front of the place that could possibly change your life.

Claire pushed her fingers through her hair. Her heart was doing some kind of spastic
dance that made her want to throw up. It joined forces with a feeling she didn’t want to face, and shadowed her every move.

She hated that feeling. That incomprehensible need to quench a thirst she still didn’t understand. Which really sucked because she’d been doing so well. It was almost the end of the week and she’d had nothing but Starbucks and San Pellegrino. Kicking back with a bottle of Chardonnay was all she could think of right now. If she closed her eyes she could almost taste it on her tongue. She shoved the thought aside, chewed a nail and stared at the building again.

After another minute, Claire moved forward with purpose and pulled open the glass door. Her heels clicked on the tile of the lobby. She put her sunglasses in her purse and scanned the directory on the wall, got on the elevator and leaned against the side while it took her up to the fifth floor.

By the time she reached the front desk, she was trembling.

“Can I help?” A woman with skin the color of dark chocolate sat behind the desk. She stared at a computer screen, her monotone telling Claire she probably couldn’t care less whether she could help or not.

Claire swallowed and leaned forward. “I hope so. I was adopted you see, and I’d like my information. My birth certificate. The original one.”

“Really.” The woman sat back in her chair, unsmiling as she gave Claire the once over. She may as well have asked her where the lingerie section was.

Claire shifted and clenched her fingers around the strap of her purse. “Am I in the right place?”

“Yes, you’re in the right place.” The lady heaved a sigh, stood and shuffled to the other side of her small cubicle, pulled open a large file cabinet and returned with a stack of papers. “Fill these out. Read everything very carefully. Bring it all back in or do it now if you
want.”

“What is this?” Claire narrowed her eyes and stared at the woman. Surely it wouldn’t kill her to be just a little helpful. On the other hand, it might.

“You have to apply in writing for the release of your non-identifying information.” The clerk shrugged, her mouth lifting in a smile. “Takes about six weeks, maybe longer. Wheels of bureaucracy and all that, you know.” She cracked a wad of gum.

“And then you’ll tell me who my birth mother was?”

“Honey.” The sympathetic smile reminded Claire of her kindergarten teacher.
Of course your mother’s coming to pick you up. She’s just a little late.
But Claire would not be consoled until she caught sight of her mother’s car driving into the school’s parking lot.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Those records are sealed. Depending on what’s on file for you, all you get is the identifying information, okay? No names. Stuff like height, weight, ethnicity and religion of your biological parents. But we can only give that to you if your birth mother gave consent for the information to be released.”

“What?” Claire shook her head. She didn’t remember reading that on the Internet. “What if she didn’t?”

“Well, then,” The woman sank into her chair with a bored expression, as though she had a billion better things to do. “The department has sixty days to conduct a search for your birth mother. She’ll be asked to release the information. She has the right to refuse.”

“
She
has the right?” Claire inhaled and pinched her lips. Sweat formed on her brow. “What about my rights? Don’t I have any rights?”

The woman’s dark eyes glazed over and she turned back to the computer. “Anything else I can do for you today?”

~

“I’m going to talk to my father’s lawyer.” Claire slammed her hand down on the top of the mahogany cabinet. Pain shot up her arm and brought her back to reality. Ugly, harsh reality that said she was nothing to nobody.

“Claire, sit.” Melanie guided her over to an armchair. “When did all this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”