Hidden in the Heart Page 5

  Desperation crawled up her throat and brought a curse with it. Her hands began to tremble. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. We’re separated. He’s angry.” She veered her gaze, not wanting the doctor’s pity. Or his suspicion.

  “He told me. I’m sorry to hear it.” His kind voice almost reduced her to tears. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of being able to say ‘there, there, dear.’ “How is James coping?”

  “He has a big family. They’re supportive.” Her temples pulsed at the memory of Christmas Day. She’d opted to spend New Year’s alone, with the dogs and a bottle of Smirnoff.

  “They’d be there for you too, Claire,” Dr. Kay said. “If you let them.”

  She gave a short laugh and pushed her hair behind her ears. “I doubt it. They blame me. James blames me. They’re right. I should have been more careful…I…”

  “Claire, that’s completely irrational. We’ve been through this…”

  “I know.” Claire twisted her hands together. “It’s not my fault.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “Dr. Kay, you know I need those pills.” Why was he doing this to her? Claire forced a smile, really wanting to put her hands around his throat. She inched them under her legs. “Okay, so I have a couple of glasses of wine…I don’t think it’s that big a deal.”

  “Claire, you can’t have any alcohol at all when you’re on anti-depressants. I’d like to see you stop taking the pills altogether. But if you’re using alcohol as well…my dear, I need you to be honest with me. Is this a problem?”

  “It’s not a problem.” Claire gritted her teeth and ground the pointed tips of her boots into the faded rug beneath her feet. She met the doctor’s eyes and willed him to believe her. The concerned look in his eyes told her he didn’t.

  After a long moment, he nodded. “I think it’s time we consider our options, Claire. Perhaps you need to get away for a while. Go somewhere warm. There are several fine clinics I can recommend. Florida, California?”

  His words registered, but she didn’t accept them. “A clinic? Like rehab or what? You want to send me to some place for crazy people? With shrinks?”

  Dr. Kay cleared his throat. “Now, Claire. Be rational. You’re getting worse instead of better. I think you need more than I can offer you here.”

  Claire wound her thumbs around each other, studying her newly polished fingernails. Pink champagne. An appropriate choice.

  “I don’t know myself anymore,” she whispered, raising her head to meet his eyes. Might as well tell the truth. The words choked her, made her sick. “I’ve become someone I don’t like. I do things I would never have imagined myself capable of. And most of the time I don’t even care. How long will it take for me to stop feeling this way?”

  “Claire, you must acknowledge that you need help. That’s the first step. You must get counseling. I think getting away for a while in a safe environment will be just what you need. Will you at least consider it?”

  Claire looked through the open wood blinds that covered the window behind him and watched traffic creep by. People walked past, bundled up in coats and scarves against the wind. On the other side of the street a young woman pushed a stroller.

  “Doctor Kay?” Claire bit down on her quivering lip, met his eyes and watched him take off his silver-rimmed glasses, wipe his face and put them back on. She shifted in her chair and set her jaw. “Do you think it’s possible that I might have caused the miscarriages?” The thought tortured her, crept into her consciousness no matter how hard she willed it away. “That I have some medical condition we don’t know about? Do you think if I…if I found out who my biological parents were…well, do you think that would be a good idea?”

  The clock on the white wall ticked out the minutes it took for him to respond.

  “Have you talked to your father about this?”

  A forgotten memory came to mind.

  “You want to know where you came from? Honestly, Claire. What a silly question. You belong to your mother and I now. That’s all that matters. Now run along and play…”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  Claire fiddled with the slim chain around her neck, rubbing the small gold heart between her thumb and forefinger. “My parents and I never really discussed my adoption. I always felt the subject was off limits somehow. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings by asking questions. It’s not like I ever needed to know. But now…”

  “Claire.” Dr. Kay’s tone was gentle. He sat forward, studying her with a solemn expression. “It won’t solve all your problems.”

  His words reverberated around the room. Tears stung her eyes and she fumbled in her purse for a tissue, blew her nose and nodded. Her heart thumped out a dull beat. “I know that. I just thought…”

  “Well, you’re twenty-six years old, a grown woman. You don’t need anyone’s permission to search for your birth family if you want to. As your doctor, I think it would be good for you to know your medical history. But this isn’t something you should enter into lightly. You won’t have any way of knowing what you’re walking into. Frankly, at this point, I don’t think you’re strong enough emotionally, and I’d advise against it.”

  Claire pushed back her chair, stood, put on her coat and grabbed her purse. “Fine. Thanks, Doctor Kay. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Take care of yourself, Claire. And please consider what I said.” He rounded the desk and walked her to the door. Claire pulled on a pair of leather gloves over her shaking hands.

  “Could you just…” She swallowed back the words at his resolute look. It didn’t matter. She could always go somewhere else. Dr. Kay knew her too well. There were other doctors that didn’t.

  “You’ll let me know what you decide? I can make arrangements…”

  “I’ll let you know.” She marched out of the waiting area and out onto the street, almost slipping on the slush-covered sidewalk. Stupid man! No way was she going to some clinic for addicts.

  Claire started her car and turned up the heat, air blasting through the vents on the dash. She reached for her cellphone and punched numbers with her thumb.

  “Shephard and Ferguson. How may I help you?” Melanie answered, chipper as ever. Claire pictured her sister-in-law behind the desk of the office where she herself had worked just months ago.

  “Put James on.”

  “Claire. I’ve been trying to reach you…Steve and I really want you to come for dinner and…” Claire could practically feel Melanie’s smile oozing through the phone. Trying to make her feel better. Trying to make it seem like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

  Trying way too hard.

  “I need to speak to James.” Claire pulled out of her parking spot, the SUV sliding over the wet snow. Her father had left on another business trip and given her keys back after she swore up and down she wouldn’t do anything stupid again. Fingers crossed behind her back.

  “When can you come over? Friday?”

  Melanie needed to get the hint and leave her alone. Claire had been ignoring her calls for weeks now.

  “I don’t know, Mel. Maybe. Can you just put James on, please?”

  “He’s not here. He and Steve are on site.”

  “On site where? Where, Mel?” Claire accelerated as she took the on ramp for the highway. Melanie’s silence turned up the heat of her anger. “Tell me where he is.” A bright yellow VW zipped in front of her and Claire pressed down on the horn.

  “Are you driving? You know you shouldn’t be on your cell if you’re driving. It’s illegal.”

  Claire snorted. “I’m well aware of Connecticut state law and I don’t need another lecture from you. I just need to know where my husband is.”

  “Oh, he’s your husband today, is he?”

  “Nice, Mel.” Claire winced against the pain and the lights that flashed across her eyes. She clenched the steering wheel and willed her hands to stop shaking. She needed a drink. And needed Melanie to shut up. “Doctor Kay won’t give me another prescr
iption.” Tears welled and made it more difficult to see.

  Melanie let out a sigh. “That’s good. You don’t need any more medication, Claire. You know that, right?”

  “I guess.” Claire put Mel on loudspeaker and set the phone on the passenger seat while she searched the glove compartment with one hand. She’d had a small flask stashed in there a while back.

  Empty. Where was the closest liquor store?

  She glanced around and tried to get her bearings. All her thoughts seemed to blend together, like thick syrup oozing out of the bottle, just a drop at a time. A car to her right honked as it whizzed by.

  Claire jumped, put both hands back on the wheel, swerved slightly and attempted to get control of her car on the icy road. Attempting to get control of her life might be harder.

  Thick snow fell as the sun began to give way to dusk. Lights from the cars on the other side of the highway blinded her and made her dizzy. Her head felt as though one of Steve’s construction workers was drilling into her brain. “Mel, are you still there? I don’t feel so good.”

  “Stop driving, Claire.” Fear laced Melanie’s stern tone. “Get off the road. Where are you now? I was about to leave work anyway. I can meet you.”

  “I’m…on…” Claire drew in a breath and glanced in her rearview mirror as she pulled across two lanes. More honking ensued and brought a fresh wave of panic. “I don’t know. I-95. I think I’m going north. There’s an exit. I’m getting off.” She’d driven this road a million times. Why was it suddenly all so unfamiliar? She slowed her speed and blinked sweat out of her eyes as she turned onto a smaller side road.

  A shopping plaza came into view and Claire breathed a sigh of relief. She flicked on her turn signal and pulled into the parking lot of The Olive Garden.

  “Claire, are you still there? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, Mel. I’m parked now. Sorry if I scared you. Listen, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Claire, wait! Where are you?”

  Claire powered off her phone and dropped it into her purse. She pulled down the visor, looked in the small square mirror and brushed a dab of blush on her cheeks and applied a touch of lipstick.

  She stared at the restaurant in front of her and hesitated. The last thing she needed was a DUI arrest. No matter, she’d get a cab this time.

  Claire eased herself out onto the snowy pavement and slammed the car door shut, clicking the remote lock on her keys. The car beeped back at her and she picked her way across icy patches until she reached the sidewalk and entered the warm foyer, glanced around and smiled.

  The bar was on her right.

  Chapter Five

  Michelle checked her speed. They’d made good time, missed the weekend traffic heading out of the city. She pressed a little harder on the accelerator and allowed a smile.

  “Thanks for coming with me, Shel.” Belinda stared out the window of the passenger seat as they zipped through the countryside. “With Don away again, I didn’t really want to drive all the way here on my own. And you know my Mom’s going to love seeing you. I’m sure she’s been cooking for days since I told her we were coming.”

  Michelle glanced her way for an instant. “It’s nice to have a weekend off, Lin. Thanks for forcing me into it.”

  Reluctantly she slowed the car as they came into town. She loved driving Belinda’s Jag. She never drove in the city. Didn’t even own a car anymore. If she needed to get anywhere, Kevin insisted she take the limo.

  The last few months since Christmas had been an endless stream of meetings, dinners and fundraising balls. With Kevin in Disneyworld for the kids’ spring break, she’d finally been able to catch her breath.

  She would have preferred a quiet weekend alone, but if she hadn’t agreed to come to Connecticut and accompany Belinda to her appointment with this architect, Michelle knew she’d never hear the end of it.

  She drove slowly down Main, tamping forgotten memories. They crept back anyway, like a persistent puppy not happy until it got the attention it wanted.

  Twenty-six years, but everything looked pretty much the same. She hadn’t counted on that. “It’s been a long time.” She idled at the stoplight and heard Belinda’s sudden intake of breath.

  “Oh, crap, honey. I didn’t think! I’m sorry…”

  “It’s fine.” Michelle pushed up her sunglasses, pushed down emotion and scanned the area. “Did you say number fifteen? Is it that building there?” She indicated right and maneuvered Belinda’s car into the parking spot. “Perfecto. Not a scratch.”

  “You always were a much better driver than me.” Belinda laughed as they got out. She threw a teal Pashmina around her shoulders and adjusted her Gucci shades. “Now, you have to be honest, if you’d rather head back to New York after this, instead of going to see my mom, just say so.”

  Michelle pulled her lightweight coat around her and glanced down the familiar street. Baskets of bright pink geraniums and blue and white alyssum hung from black lampposts. The buildings still looked old, although the movie theatre had been given a facelift. She’d only spent a few months here, but remembered every detail. Mrs. Gracie had been so good to her.

  “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.”