Searching for Cate. Marie Ferrarella

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СКАЧАТЬ Dr. Graywolf said it was important to do it as quickly as possible.”

      The familiar name had her snapping to attention. Dr. Graywolf? Was her partner’s husband this woman’s doctor? Just how small was the world? Cate wondered.

      The fact that there was someone in the room, silently watching her, slowly penetrated the wall of fear around Joan. She murmured “I love you” to her husband and then hung up the phone, her eyes now on the young woman in her room. An eerie feeling wafted through her, as if this wasn’t real. As if none of this ever since she’d first detected the thickness on her right breast was real.

      As if she was looking into the mirror and seeing into the past.

      Joan cleared her throat, her nervousness growing. “Can I help you?”

      Cate kept looking at the woman in the bed, searching for some foolproof sign. All the while knowing that there wouldn’t be one. “That all depends.”

      “On what?” Joan whispered the words, now clearly frightened.

      Cate took a single step toward her, then stopped. She was afraid that the woman would pass out if she came any closer. Did she know? On some instinctive level, did Joan sense that she was her mother?

      Cate put her thoughts into words. “On whether you’re willing to admit that you’re my mother.”

      Chapter 9

      The woman in the bed drew in a sharp breath. “Excuse me?”

      Cate’s heart was in her throat as she confronted a piece of her life. The very air felt still, despite the soft whoosh made by the air-conditioning system.

      Was this woman lying in a hospital bed, looking small, frightened and disoriented, really her biological mother, or had Jeremy’s information led them in the wrong direction?

      She searched for signs of resemblance and thought she saw a few, but her desire to belong could have colored her perception. Maybe she looked like her father. So far, the only picture she’d managed to find of Jimmy Rollins was his last DMV photo. In true DMV fashion, the photograph was terrible.

      “My mother,” Cate repeated. The word tasted chalky on her tongue. Part of her felt disloyal to Julia for even addressing someone else by that name, but part of her felt this need to connect, to still be someone’s daughter. The confidence with which she’d helmed her life was nowhere in sight.

      Joan pressed the button on the side railing, moving the bed into more of an upright position. She struggled to get hold of herself.

      This can’t be happening, it wasn’t real.

      She was still reeling from what Dr. Graywolf had just told her, she couldn’t handle this on top of that.

      Despite the reading about breast cancer that she’d done, despite having talked to several women at her club who had lived through the horror that she now faced, she’d discovered in the last five minutes that she wasn’t prepared at all. Not emotionally. Not for this horrible gut-twisting feeling that threatened to cut off her very air. She felt trapped, unable to know which way to run or where.

      And Ron, well, Ron didn’t know how to deal with anything that couldn’t be solved with some kind of an elaborate mathematical equation. Her husband of the last twenty-two years had all his emotions stored somewhere in a bank vault and she had no idea what the combination to it was.

      Her nerves frayed, her future uncertain, Joan was in no condition to field this latest shock.

      Avoiding the young woman’s eyes, Joan grasped at a lie. “I’m afraid that you must have me confused with someone else.”

      Then why won’t you look at me? Cate silently demanded. People lied to her all the time, attempting to avoid the consequences of their actions. Part of her job was to see through the lies and get down to the truth.

      She saw through Joan’s.

      Cate moved closer to the bed. “Are you Joan Cunningham?”

      The woman’s breathing became more audible. Like a cornered animal, Cate thought.

      “Yes, but—”

      Holding up her hand, Cate didn’t let her finish. “And are you formerly Joan Haywood?”

      The look of panic in the woman’s eyes increased. “Yes, but—”

      Cate pushed on, refusing to allow the woman a chance to regroup. “And did you live in the San Francisco area twenty-eight years ago? Did you know someone named ‘Blue?’”

      Joan dug her fingers so deeply into the bedclothes that she was pulling loose not only the white blanket, but the sheets beneath it. Panicked, unable to cope, she cried, “Get out.”

      Cate remained where she was. Rather than triumph, she felt anger welling up inside of her. This was the woman who’d given her away. People gave away things they didn’t want, not children.

      Her voice was deadly calm, even though her insides were in turmoil. “Well, did you?”

      “I said get out!”

      The order came out in almost a high-pitched scream. Frantically, Joan searched for the buzzer to summon a nurse, an orderly, someone, anyone, to come and help her. To come and save her.

      This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. She was back in her own bed in her own bedroom and this was some nightmare she was having. If she could only scream, Ron would shake her awake and tell her that this was just one of those awful dreams she sometimes had. Dreams of small girls with huge green eyes looking up at her.

      It had been a mistake ever to hold that baby, to even look at it. If she hadn’t, she would have been able to sweep this out of her life forever, like the nightmare it was.

      But she had held her little girl. Against her mother’s wishes, she had held her baby. Held Bonnie Blue to her breast. And left a piece of her heart wrapped up in those small, curled fingers when the nurse came to take her away.

      The woman looking at her had green eyes. Accusing green eyes. Joan shrank back in her bed, still frantically trying to locate the call buzzer that had somehow gotten loose.

      “I just need to know that I’m right,” Cate said, struggling to remain calm. To keep from crying because the hurt went down deep, scraping against the bone.

      Shaking now, Joan felt as if she was falling completely apart. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m too upset to deal with this—”

      “I’d like an answer, please.” It was hard keeping the emotion that choked her out of her voice.

      “Get out!” Joan screamed again. Finally finding the buzzer, she clutched it in both hands as she pressed the button frantically. Her entire body was trembling. Any moment, she thought she was going to begin convulsing.

      The door flew open.

      “What’s going on here?” Christian demanded as he strode into the room. He looked accusingly at the young woman by his patient’s bedside. He’d been right outside, about to go СКАЧАТЬ