AFTER ONLY A FEW MINUTES IN THE CAR, TAYLOR HEARD THE sound of Evan’s steady breathing and glanced in the rearview mirror to confirm that he’d fallen asleep. All her years of infertility treatments and her prayers for a child still hadn’t prepared her for the crushing love she felt the first time she’d held him. She’d suffered three miscarriages before getting pregnant with him, and then, when she and Jack had been on the run, she’d worried almost constantly about losing him, too. After he’d been born, she hadn’t wanted him out of her sight at the hospital, and it was only exhaustion that finally allowed her to hand him back to the nurse. Most mothers probably felt that same way, but most mothers didn’t also have an insane biological father like Damon Crosse going after their children.
Even after Damon was dead, part of her was still terrified of someone trying to take her son. For the first six months of his life, she’d never left Evan. In the beginning, she and Jack had moved a bassinet into their bedroom and she slept with one hand on it—only half asleep, ever vigilant. Beau must have picked up on her anxiety because he started sitting at the foot of the bassinet anytime Evan was in it and stayed there, a loyal sentinel, always keeping watch.
When Evan was six months old, Jack gently encouraged her to transition him to his crib in the nursery. She knew it was because he was worried about her and her lack of sleep, but still, she would wake up in the middle of the night to creep down the hall and make sure he was still breathing. She worried about SIDS. She worried about someone breaking in and taking him. She worried about everything. Soon her joy in her son was eclipsed by the constant and nagging fear that something bad was going to happen to him.
Jack tried everything to reassure her that it would all be fine. He had a top-notch security system installed, but still, she couldn’t relax. Finally she’d agreed to see a therapist, who explained that a lot of what she was feeling was natural—new mother jitters. Her therapist had helped her understand that, while it was natural to overcompensate for past traumas by trying to control everything in her environment, it was unhealthy to do so. She started with small steps, leaving Evan with Jack for an hour or two while she ran an errand or went to the gym. Eventually she agreed to leave him with Jeremy so she and Jack could go out alone together. As time went on, her anxiety lessened and she was proud of the fact that, while still a protective mom, she was by no means a neurotic one. And when her worries started to get the best of her, Jack was there to calm her, in the same way that, when he started going off the rails, she grounded him. The fact that they’d been best friends long before they became lovers was something she never took for granted. No one knew her history like Jack, and no one understood all the demons from his past like she did. She also knew that if anyone could help her keep Evan safe, it was Jack.
When she had decided to join up with Karen Printz six months ago, Taylor had started looking for a nanny, but then UBC had opened a daycare. Though at first she’d been reluctant to leave Evan, getting to know the staff had made her feel much more comfortable—as did the fact that he was just a few floors away from her office. No one made her feel silly for dropping in to check on him—even every half hour, those first few times, as long as she abided by their rule not to enter during nap time. She now took him there without a second thought.
It was a little after eleven when Taylor arrived at UBC and dropped Evan off. Giving him a kiss, she left. When she got back into her car, she entered the Stamford address for her interview into her GPS. It took her a little less than forty minutes to get there. She’d already done some preliminary work with the couple so they’d be recording some of the interview now to save time. The camera crew was parked and waiting, and she walked over to the van.
“Let me just go in first and make sure they’re ready.”
“No problem,” Matt, the lead camera guy, told her.
As she walked up the sidewalk, she thought to herself that the house had seen better days. The dull yellow paint was peeling and the shutters looked as though a gentle breeze would dislodge them. She walked up the cracked cement walkway and rang the doorbell.
A fresh-faced young woman greeted her and smiled shyly. “Ms. Parks?” Even though she’d taken Jack’s name when she married him, Taylor still used her maiden name professionally.
Taylor put a hand out. “Please, call me Taylor.”
“I’m Molly Edwards.” She motioned Taylor inside and led her toward a worn sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll call my husband.”
“The camera crew is here, is it okay for them to come in and set up? As I mentioned, Karen will come back and finish the interview later, but we can get some sound bites now.”
Molly nodded. “Sure thing.”
Taylor waved in Matt, his two assistants, and the audio technician and took a seat while they set up. She looked around the room. It was bright and cheerful, the walls adorned with stunning photographs of trees that looked like they were professionally framed. Molly returned with a stocky man who gave Taylor a sour look, mumbled a hello, and took a seat in the armchair next to the sofa. Molly sat next to him. “This is Clyde.”
Taylor stood and held a hand out. “Nice to meet you.”
He merely nodded.
“It’s going to take them a few minutes to set up.” She called over to Matt. “Where do you want us?”
As soon as Matt got set up and gave her the thumbs-up, Taylor cleared her throat. “Okay, we can get started,” she said. “I understand that you are being pressured to terminate your pregnancy.”
Molly’s hand went automatically to her stomach. Tears filled her eyes, and she swallowed.
Her husband reached over and grabbed her hand. “I would never have chosen that policy if I had known this. They never told me what would happen if I chose the cheaper one,” he said.
Taylor waited, giving Molly time to gather her thoughts.
Molly picked up the thread. “I had my checkup last week. The doctor got the results of some blood work.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “He said there are unusual levels of some type of protein that could indicate chromosomal abnormalities. Here, I wrote down the name.” She passed her notebook to Taylor.
The blood test showed an incredibly high level of pregnancy-related plasma protein. Taylor had had a similar result with Evan. There was no way she would have terminated the pregnancy, whatever the case, but they were blessed since Evan had been born perfectly healthy. She remembered how upset she had been when presented with the same results and felt a kinship with Molly.
“There’s only a possibility of chromosomal abnormalities, and they’re insisting you terminate?” Taylor clarified.
Clyde replied, “Yes. And you know what that doctor told me?” He took a breath. “He said it’s so early, not a big deal, and we can try again. Why have a child that’s sick?’ That’s exactly how he said it, as casually as if I was picking out a new suit.” He shook his head. “What kind of world are we living in when an insurance company has the right to try to force a decision like that on you?”
Taylor asked, “When did you sign up for the new policy?”
“During our open enrollment period. They were taking $300 a month out of my paycheck for my premiums. If I opted in to the new policy, that went down to $25. We thought the policy was a great deal. Saved us lots of money. They never told me I was signing over life-and-death decisions. I thought I just had to, you know, use the doctors they said, that kind of thing.”
“Did your company hold meetings to go over the policy?”
Clyde replied, “Nope. Everything was sent through our email and we had to read up on the benefits on our own.”
That in and of itself should have been illegal. Taylor made a note to look into it. She looked again at Molly. “What did you tell the doctor?”
She pursed her lips. “I told him there was no way I was aborting my baby. We’re Catholic.” She looked up. “He apologized but said he wouldn’t be able to bill my insurance company for any future visits if I violated the policy.”
“And now you have no coverage for the pregnancy?”
“That’s right,” Clyde answered. “The great money-saving policy is now going to bankrupt us.”
“Well, there’s hope, isn’t there?” Molly said. “Once this case is decided, they can make them reverse these exclusions.”
“While in the meantime, we get more broke every day,” Clyde said.
Taylor felt deeply for this couple. “It’s so important for the public to hear your story.”
They both nodded.
“I’m hoping we can get the show aired before the court decision is made, get public opinion on your side. Maybe it will get the insurance company to rethink their policies,” she said.
Clyde snorted. “Like they give a damn about public opinion. Those vipers will do anything for a quick buck. There’s no justice in this world.”
Taylor could understand his bitterness. One of the things that bothered her most about this case was the fact that the majority of people suffering were lower-income families. Taylor suspected that Jefferson Health Care had targeted those who needed to save money to test their new policy exclusions. Molly and Clyde were just two in a sea of voices.
Taylor wrapped up the interview, thanked them both, and left. Her thoughts were troubled as she made her way to the next interview, at Greenwich Hospital. She’d gotten a call just a few days ago from Mrs. Sampson telling her that their insurance company had stalled on approving a heart transplant for her daughter. She and her husband had appealed the decision and were supposed to hear back today.
After she parked and went into the hospital’s main entrance, Taylor waited for the elevator, then slid into the crowded space. When it opened at her floor, she headed down the hall toward the room number they’d given her and found the door ajar. The couple sat in silence, the mother on the edge of the hospital bed holding the hand of a frail-looking young girl. The child’s blond hair was fanned out on the hard pillow. Her eyes were shut, her breathing shallow. The hissing and beeping of machines joined together in a discordant symphony.
Taylor approached the bed quietly and held out her hand. “Mrs. Sampson?”
She gave Taylor a tired smile as she took it. “Please call me Darlene. This is my husband, Bill. And you must be Ms. Parks.”
“Taylor.”
“Let’s go in the lounge. She’s asleep, but . . .” Darlene trailed off. They stopped at the nurses’ station to tell the one on duty where they’d be, then Taylor followed them down the hall to a room with two sofas and a chair.
Compassion filled her as she took in the Sampsons’ pain-filled expressions. “I’m sorry that we’re meeting under these circumstances, and I so appreciate your taking the time to talk to me. I understand your daughter has been on the transplant list for over a year now, is that right?”
Color flushed Bill’s face. “They finally found a heart and we thought this nightmare was over. And then . . .” His voice broke and he turned away.
“The insurance company said that due to our exclusions, she might not qualify for it. They had to send our case to their committee for consideration, so UNOS gave it to the next person on the list,” Darlene explained. “It took so long for us to have her. She’s our little miracle. I was told I’d never conceive.”
Taylor couldn’t imagine what exclusion would preclude allowing a necessary heart transplant, but she’d wait until Darlene finished before asking any questions.
“We adored her from the moment we saw her and couldn’t wait for our family and friends to meet her. Didn’t think there was anything, really, to warn them about, but some of them made very unkind comments about how difficult our lives were going to be with a special needs child.”
Bill stood up and began to pace. “Everybody wants perfection . . . whatever the hell that is.”
Taylor remained silent, her full attention on Darlene.
The woman wiped a tear from her cheek. “We’re not stupid. We know that Down syndrome comes with challenges. But what doesn’t? How could anyone look at our beautiful child and not love her?”
A doctor walked into the room. His expression was grim. “I have news.” He looked at Taylor. “Who is this?”
Bill spoke before either of them could answer. “My sister.”
The doctor shifted from one foot to the other, then cleared his throat.
“You’ve heard back from them?” Darlene asked.
He nodded. “I wish I were giving you different news, but your insurance company has decided that Cora is not a good candidate.”
Both parents jumped out of their chairs.
“What do you mean? She’s young, strong, and with a new heart will live a long, healthy life,” Darlene said.
The doctor looked at the floor, unable to meet their eyes. “It’s not that simple. They claim they have to look at optimizing the selection by giving organs to those who have the potential for a ‘normal’ life span.”
Taylor’s mouth fell open but she quickly composed herself.
“No.” It came out as a whisper as Darlene sank back into the sofa.
A vein throbbed in Bill’s temple. “Are you telling me that because our daughter has Down syndrome, she doesn’t deserve a chance to live?” He was yelling.
“I share your outrage,” the doctor said in a voice clearly meant to soothe. “I’ll appeal, of course. But I have to be honest—we’re running out of time.”
Bill sighed. “What are we supposed to do until then?”
“Be with her as much as you can, and if you pray, now would be the time.”
Taylor was speechless. To have the ability to save your child snatched out from under you because some faceless executive had deemed her unworthy was more than outrageous—it was inhuman. After the doctor had left the room, Taylor spoke.
“I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. “This is—”
“All that damn insurance company’s fault,” Bill interrupted.
Taylor tried to think of something, anything, that might give them hope. “The Supreme Court decision should be coming in the next month or so. Hopefully this will be overturned and they’ll have to give her a heart.”
Bill said, “By then, it will be too late. Cora is getting weaker, and besides, hearts don’t just come along every day.”
Taylor couldn’t accept that. If this had been happening to Evan, she’d move heaven and earth to save him. “We can’t give up. If we tell your story, get public outrage—”
Darlene gave Taylor a weary look. “It’ll be too late by then. They’ve already won.” Then she took a deep breath and said, “But we’ll come on the show. We’ll do whatever we can to stop them from doing this to someone else. For Cora. The world needs to know.”
Taylor stood and Darlene walked her to the elevator. “I wish I could do more,” Taylor said.
Darlene reached out a hand and touched Taylor’s shoulder. “I appreciate it. Just let us know when you’re ready for us. We’ll be there.” Her bottom lip began to tremble and tears spilled down her cheeks. “By then, Cora will most likely be gone.”