Paula sank into her recliner, punched in Louise’s phone number, and waited for an answer. The other interviews had turned up nothing new, and she was desperate to talk to this last NICU nurse. Paula had gotten pats on the back from most of the newsroom staff, though she sensed a little tenseness when Darrick had congratulated her.
“Hello?” The scratchy voice was female, presumably Louise.
“Mrs. Garner? This is Paula Landin-Cohen from Channel 12 News. How are you today?”
A second’s silence ballooned like rising dough between them until the woman said, “Oh, yes. You’re the one who interviewed that family here locally. I saw the news this morning.”
Paula was relieved to be talking to Louise at last. She hoped the woman’s son was nowhere nearby. “I’ve tried to schedule a time to chat with you about that, but I hear you’re not feeling well.”
“No, I’m not doing so good. I probably shouldn’t be talking to you.
The finality in her voice set off an alarm in Paula. “Please, Mrs. Garner, can I ask you a couple of questions? Over the phone?”
She heard a throaty sigh.
“I don’t think I’m going to have any information that can help you,” the scratchy voice replied.
“That’s OK. If you could just tell me if you remember this particular baby, Faith Morgan, who was born at—”
A male voice interrupted. “Leave her alone. She’s sick, lady!”
The phone disconnected.
Frustration welled up in her, and she sighed hard. If she could just get Louise alone, she thought the lady would cooperate. She didn’t seem too ill to talk over the phone.
For the remainder of the evening, she turned her attention toward tracking down the other women who’d given birth the same week as Deb Morgan. She’d gotten names from the birth section in the newspaper, but tracking them down after three years was time consuming. She had received two phone calls after her story ran from women who’d given birth to babies at the same time as Deb, but both of those babies had been full-term. She was looking for babies who’d been in the NICU at the same time as Faith. Chicago General had hired a team of lawyers and a media rep, and getting any information from them was like trying to run through a brick wall.
Taking out her notes from all the previous interviews, she determined to copy them into her computer. Maybe if she had it all organized, she would see something amiss.
Linn knocked on her landlord’s door and stuffed her hands into her coat pockets. After nearly two weeks of advertising for a roommate, she was still looking. She wished Mr. Oliani would be flexible, though her interactions with him in the past left her feeling less than hopeful.
The door swung open. The little Italian man was no taller than Linn, with a head of black hair that would make a young man jealous. “Hello, uh . . .”
“Linn. I rent an apartment with Charlotte. Or I did, at least.”
“Right. What’s up?” He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms, as if guarding his apartment from entry.
Linn wished he’d invite her in so she could make a little small talk before she had to ask such a big favor. “I was wondering if we could talk a minute.”
“Shoot.”
So much for hospitality. “You know Charlotte moved out and that I’m looking for a roommate. I wondered if I might have a short extension on my rent.”
There. It was out.
“Sorry, can’t do that.”
“But Mr. Oliani, I’m sure I can find a roommate soon, and I can give you a portion of the rent on the first, just not the whole amount.”
He tipped his chin down. “Look, I don’t like being mean. It’s not my nature. But I got a payment to make myself, see? If I let you be late, I’ll have to let everyone be late, and I just can’t do that, OK? I’m sorry.” He moved to shut the door.
Linn reached out and held the door open. “It’s just this once, I promise. And I won’t tell the other renters.”
“That’s what they all say.” He pushed the door.
She stuck her foot in between the door and the frame. “I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have any family or anything, Mr. Oliani.”
He eyed her foot, a scowl forming on his face. “Listen, kid, I feel bad for you. I do. But I gotta look out for myself, see? First of the month. Rent in full.” He looked at her foot again.
She pulled it away and let the door shut in her face. There was no way she could come up with the rent in three days’ time. Not unless she asked for money in advance from Joe. And how could she do that when she’d only been working there just over a week? She didn’t want to risk her job by imposing on him like that.
If only she could find a cheaper place to stay. But she’d already scoured the apartment section in the paper. There wasn’t anything cheaper than what she had now. And a week and a half from now, she’d have to go to part-time at the coffee shop so she could go to school. There might be some kind of government help she was eligible for, but she’d always sworn she would never resort to that. Anyway, it would take weeks to get the ball rolling on that, and she didn’t have weeks.
The next morning, when Linn got to work, Adam greeted her with a kind smile. She tossed her purse down under the counter and wrapped an apron around her. Outside the streetlights still lit the dark sky.
“You look exhausted.” Adam asked.
“Thanks. Just what every girl longs to hear.” What could she expect when she’d tossed all night trying to figure out what to do?
“Just an observation. You OK?”
Well, I’m about to lose my apartment, it’s the dead of winter, and I have no place to live. Other than that, I’m just peachy.
“Sure.” Linn saw they were low on cups and went to the closet for another stack. She stepped inside the walk-in closet and looked around for the cups, wishing the closet was lit.
“Adam, do you know where the extra cups are?” She saw some old cups, the kind that weren’t insulated, but not the kind she’d been using since she’d started working.
Adam approached. “We’re out. Joe’s going to get some this morning, but he said to use the old ones for now.”
Linn retrieved the packages of cardboard cups from the shelf. “Do we have any sleeves to insulate them?”
The customers wouldn’t be happy if the cups were too hot to hold.
“There should be some in the very back.”
Linn rooted around, moving aside packages of sweetener, stir sticks, and straws. Everything but sleeves.
“Here.” Adam stepped close behind her and leaned forward, almost pinning her to the shelves. He reached over her shoulder.
She could smell the faint scent of his spicy cologne and feel the heat of his skin. She didn’t dare turn her face or she would have been staring into the crook of his neck. Time seemed frozen as he moved aside a box of straws and tugged the package of sleeves forward.
“Here they are.” He pulled backward ever so slightly as he dragged the package to the edge of the shelf. Linn turned and faced him.
She could see by his expression that he hadn’t realized how close he was standing until just then. And when he did, his face lost that casual, pleasant, everyday look. The corners of his mouth slacked, and his eyes changed somehow.
Linn forgot to breathe. If her heart wasn’t an involuntary muscle, it would have stopped too. Instead, it thudded against her ribs like a warning alarm.
She wished she could read his eyes, wondered if they would give away any secrets if it weren’t so dark. But there was only a dimness that transformed the closet into a cocoon.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to crowd you.” He drew back, but only a little. Their eyes locked, like a missile on a target.
“That’s OK.” It was more than OK. He could crowd her any day, as far as she was concerned.
A jangle of keys at the register caught his attention, and he stepped out of the closet. Linn inhaled to feed her oxygen-deprived body. If she’d been alone, she would have grabbed a piece of cardboard and fanned her warm face.
Instead she joined Adam behind the counter and pumped hazelnut flavoring into a cup while he made espresso several feet away. She mentally reviewed their encounter in the closet, knowing it was only the first of many times she would relive that moment.
The same way she knew she wore her most flattering clothes to work.
The same way she knew Adam’s Christmas gift would hang from her bedside lamp until well past New Year’s.
And the same way she knew her heart would break when he married someone else.