The Switch (7 page)

While Tia was making dinner the next night, she called her father and left a message, asking him to pop by when he had a chance. Then she called her mom’s cell—using a code to bypass the call so it would go directly to voice mail. She didn’t want to face a barrage of questions over the phone. She anticipated seeing both of them that evening, but she was still surprised to have her mom show up on her doorstep before dinner was over.

Mona stood in the doorway, her eyes worried, her face pale, as if she already knew the answer. Still, Tia managed to get her to help ready the girls for bed and tuck them in. Before Tia had said goodnight to Samantha, though, the doorbell rang again and Mona let Ron in.

Both of her parents at once. Tia wasn’t sure if she was glad she’d get it over in one swoop, or if she was worried about the reactions if they were both in the same room. Would the kids actually fall asleep or would the tears and recriminations get too loud and keep them up? She said a quick prayer for strength and returned to the living room.

She took the chair opposite them and clasped her hands on her lap, unsure what to say or how to explain.

Mona broke the silence. “Well, you didn’t have to bring me here to say he’s your father. I told you I didn’t step out of him.”

“Then,” Ron clarified.

Mona blushed beneath her makeup, but gave a stiff nod of acknowledgment.

“Actually,” Tia said, fisting her hands together on her lap. “The test proved something else entirely. It showed . . . neither of you are my biological parents.”

Tia closed her eyes against the noise of her mother’s loud protests. She felt her father take her hand in his large, calloused one and squeeze it. Tristi start to whine down the hall and Samantha asked what was wrong as Mona continued to argue and wail.

Tia opened her eyes, tears rimming her lashes, to find her father looking steadily at her. He squeezed her hand again, his face sad, but tearless. He laid his other hand on Mona’s shoulder and told her to settle down. His voice was soft, filled with authority. He released Tia’s hand. “Go check on your girls.”

Tia rose automatically and did as he said. Soon Mona’s protests calmed to a murmur, and Tia was able to settle both girls back into bed. When she returned to the living room, she found Mona leaning against Ron’s shoulder, crying softly. It was a big improvement in her behavior, and odd seeing them like that after all the years of bickering.

Tia sat and said nothing. She was exhausted, confused, and wanted a few hours to herself to let her mind wander.

“All right,” Ron started after a moment. “So now we know.”

“Do we? Maybe they mixed up the results.” Mona wiped at her face with a damp tissue, smearing the makeup worse. “We should have the tests done again.”

“That won’t change anything,” Tia said. Not that it hadn’t crossed her mind to double-check, but she’d suspected what the results would be, so there was no point in trying again.

“So where do we go from here?” Ron asked.

Tia deliberated. She’d been thinking about it for more than a day now. “Do we assume the switch was made in the hospital? Could it have happened later?”

Ron shook his head. “No. If you were switched, it had to be right after you were born. In the first six hours, most likely, when we’d barely gotten a look at you. We would have realized if it had happened later. I’m surprised we didn’t anyway.”

Mona’s wails grew louder again.

“All right.” Tia’s stomach felt tied up in knots. Part of her wanted to pretend none of this had happened and she was still blissfully unaware. The other part of her wanted to know what happened, not because she was looking for something more or better, but because she needed answers. “Then I guess I start with the hospital.” She wondered, with the HIPPA laws, if she would be able to get any information about other females born the same day she was.

“What can I do to help?” Ron asked.

“You’re going to look for your real family? We’re not good enough for you?” Mona asked, her voice growing in pitch every few words.

Tia rubbed her forehead. A headache had been growing all afternoon, so she was grateful there were no signs of migraine this time. “Mom, this isn’t about being good enough. The fact is, there’s another family out there in the same situation as us. I want to know who they are.”

“And then you’ll destroy their lives by telling them about this. Why rock the boat, Tia? Why bring the extra pain on them too?” Mona sobbed out her objections.

Tia wet her lips as she considered her mother’s point. Did she have a right to mix up another family? She didn’t know, and once she had answers about who they were, maybe she would choose to leave things alone.

Maybe.

“I don’t know if I will yet, or if I will even be able to find the family. We’ll have to see what happens.” She would know what to do when she met them—she hoped.

* * *

Danny drove to the television station and parked in front of the four-story building. He hadn’t told Tia he was coming, but she would start cooking soon, and he hoped he could talk his way into the studio. Even if he had to wait until her segment was over, he wanted to be there, to see her, look in her eyes so he could tell if she’d been sleeping or not.

She hadn’t been far from his mind since her visit earlier that week. Memory of her sad blue eyes haunted him.

The man at the front desk asked him for ID, then called back to the studio to find out if Tia knew him. A few minutes later a woman came through a set of nearby doors and smiled at him. “You must be Danny. You should’ve seen the way Tia brightened up when she heard you were here.” She offered her hand and he took it.

“I’m glad to hear it. I’m Danny Tullis.”

“Marilyn Novak.” She picked up a guest pass from the guard and handed it to Danny. “Come with me. Tia’s busy doing her last-minute prep, but I can take you in to talk to her for a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” Danny was fascinated by the low buzz of talk around them as they walked down a few hallways and into the studio.
 
The news anchors were huddled around some papers on set, three men spoke by one of the big cameras and people rushed past. Marilyn led him to the other corner of the set where the tiny kitchen was arranged. Tia scooped flour into a small glass bowl on the counter and lined it up with several other bowls. She glanced up at them and a smile bloomed across her face. “This is a nice surprise. What’s going on?” she asked when Danny got close enough to hear.

“I stopped in to say hi, and to see how things are going.” He studied her. Through all of her stage makeup it was hard to tell if she had dark shadows under her eyes. Had she slept better? She didn’t look tired. He glanced at Marilyn, who smiled in understanding and made her excuses before retreating.

“I’m all set up here for noon.” Tia stopped to check the oven and nodded. “Right on schedule. I have a few minutes.” She led him out of the kitchen area to a corner, releasing her hair from the elastic which held it away from her face.

“Good. Sorry to drop in on you. I wasn’t sure if you’d have time to talk with me.” He brushed a lock of her curly red hair back from her cheek. “I’ve been wondering how you were dealing with everything.”

Tia nodded. “I told my parents last night. They were shocked.”

“That was probably an understatement.”

“Yeah.” Her lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “As far as we can tell, the switch must have happened in the first four to six hours after I was born, otherwise they probably would have realized I wasn’t their baby. Now I have to figure out who else had baby girls during that window, and then try to track them down.”

“And then what?”

She blew out a long breath. “I don’t know. Even if I find the family, do I disturb their lives by telling them the truth? The other woman, the one my mom gave birth to, has she lived a happy life? Who switched us? Why would they? How did they manage? Didn’t they put tags on us before we ever left our mother’s sides? There are too many unanswered questions.”

She twisted her hands together. “And then there’s my brother, Wes. He knows why my parents split up. In fact, I have the feeling he knew even before Samantha’s party, though he never breathed a word of it to me.” Her brow furrowed in irritation at this. “We haven’t discussed any of it with him. Or at least, I haven’t. What is he going to think about it?”

Danny set his hands on Tia’s shoulders. “Give it time. First things first. We’ll find out about your other family, see what we can learn, and go from there.”

“We?” She smiled at him, curiosity sliding into her eyes. “Since when did this become
we
?”

He chuckled. “Wishful thinking on my part?”

“You don’t even know me.”

He thought he probably understood her better than she realized. “I’d like to.”

“I see.” Several seconds passed as she absorbed his comment. “I think I’d like that too.”

Danny wanted to do a fist pump, but managed to keep from making a fool of himself. That was definite progress.

The producer called out a five-minute warning until the show started.

Tia sighed. “You better go up to the control room to watch. They don’t like visitors on set during filming.”

“Would it be okay for me to hang around until you’re finished?”
Say yes.

She smiled. “I’d like that. Then you can taste today’s dish.”

“My mouth is already watering.” To kiss her, but he managed to keep his hands and lips to himself.

Tia laughed, then motioned to a man with shaggy black hair. “Hey, Tom, can you take Danny up to the control booth to watch the filming?”

“Sure.”

“See ya.” Danny cocked a grin at Tia and followed the man upstairs.

Watching the maneuvers behind the scene was an education. Danny studied the way people moved in the room, who did what, and wished he could ask Tia about each job. He watched her pull the pan out of the oven and test it, then set it on a tray out of the way.

Soon the camera moved to her and she began her cooking segment. She did the first part of the show, then they broke for commercials. She rushed through mixing, then moved the last few ingredients closer. When they came back to her, she finished the dish, then pulled out the pre-baked version and sliced a piece. From the sound booth he was unable to smell the food, but the look of it alone—not to mention the memory of how delicious it had been the previous weekend—made him eager to taste it. He was impressed as always by her calm friendliness on camera, the way she rarely stumbled over her words or showed the least discomfort.

She was made for television.

Finally the entire show wrapped up and he was allowed back on the stage. She pulled the second pan out of the oven and dished it up for the rest of the crew. When Danny reached her, she looked over and smiled. “I’ve been saving some for you.”

“Good. It smells terrific.”

“And it tastes as great.” She handed him a sample before turning to take care of a few other crew members.

Another half hour passed as she finished clean up, and he lent a hand where he could. When he finally walked her out of the building, he wondered why he hadn’t realized how much work her cooking segment was. It was amazing she managed to keep up with the schedule. “You do that every day?”

“Yep. It can get a bit crazy, and searching for different recipes five days a week is a challenge, but I enjoy it.”

He nodded. “It’s easier to do a challenging job you enjoy than an easy one you hate.”

“Isn’t that the truth!”

He walked her to her car and leaned one hip against the hood. “So is there anything I can do to help with your search?”

She swallowed hard as she met his gaze. “Not right now. Actually, I’m still trying to figure out where to start. Hospital records are private, so how do I find out about the other girls born that day? I don’t want to alert anyone to what happened until I know how I’m going to deal with it. I’m not sure if there’s any other way, though.”

He thought for a long moment, considering and rejecting several ideas until his thoughts snagged on something that might be useful. “What about birth announcements in the paper.”

“Birth announcements?” Her brow furrowed. “I suppose one or two may have paid for an ad.”

“No, I mean the bare-bones listings hospitals used to put in the papers. ‘Baby girl to Joe and Jane Smith of Olathe.’ ” He remembered seeing one of those for his cousin’s baby before the privacy laws changed.

She clearly hadn’t thought of that. “Oh, I could check to see if the hospital did those. I can’t remember how much information was in them, but it’s a good place to start. If I can find any listings.”

“Where were you born?”

“Here in Kansas City, on the Kansas side. St. Mark’s Hospital.” Tia checked her watch. “I need to pick up Tristi from daycare, and I have some errands to run before Samantha gets out of school.”

He wanted a few more minutes alone with her, but conceded. “All right, then. How about if I come over for dinner and afterward we can search online?”

She tilted her head and a light furrow developed between her brows. “Are you serious? Why would you want to get mixed up in this?”