The Redhead

"I mean you hurt me, Spencer. You hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me before. I would have thought that you'd know me better than to accuse me of cheating on you. I don't know if I can forgive you. I might just want to go through with the divorce; but don't worry, at least you'll know you're paying child support for your own child and not another man's."

Spencer never cried the whole time he thought Linda had cheated on him, his anger wouldn't allow it, but hearing her words, knowing how deeply he hurt the woman he loved, and facing the possibility of losing her because of it was worse than thinking she cheated. He felt the moisture welling up in his eyes but couldn't stop it. Tears breached his lower lids and trickled down his cheeks.

"God, Linda, I... I'm so sorry. Please, I know I screwed up, but you can't mean that?"

Her heart wasn't made of stone, but had her love crossed that fine line into hate? There were times when she thought it had, but no, not really; still... the wounds left behind in the wake of his accusations were deep and would take a long time to heal. She wasn't about to simply forgive and forget. She straightened her back and wasn't about to show sympathy, at least not yet. She ignored his question.

"I'm going to sue the hospital. I've hired a lawyer. He's going to confront them with my DNA test and force them to find our real son. He said it could take a while, anywhere from a couple of weeks to a year, maybe even longer. He also said you have a legal right to know what's going on, so I asked Dad to call you and now you know." She started to stand and presumably go upstairs.

Spencer quickly called out to stop her. "Linda, wait, please, I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me?" she repeated incredulously. "Just a little while ago you were ready to throw me away."

Don stood and prompted his wife. "Ellie, let's leave these two alone for a little while," he said while holding out his hand. She took it and followed her husband into the kitchen.

As they left the room, Spencer continued to make his case. "Linda, I don't blame you at all for being angry. I know there's nothing I can do or say to make it up to you, but I never did file for divorce. You want to know why? Because I love you with all my heart and I couldn't imagine my life without you."

"Oh, really? You could have fooled me when you packed your bag and left. I stood right there in front of the window crying my eyes out as you got in your car and drove away."

"I was hurting, Linda. I thought..."

"Yes, I know," she interrupted. "You thought I cheated on you. You thought I was trying to trick you into raising my lover's baby. You never once told yourself, she wouldn't do that. I know her better than that, she would never do such a thing. There must be another explanation." She was getting emotional and now both had tears streaking down their cheeks.

"You should go, Spencer. I'll call you if there're any new developments," she said, flatly, then left him sitting there as she stood and went upstairs.

His in-laws heard their daughter ascend the stairs and exited from the kitchen. Spencer looked up into their faces. "What am I going to do? How do I get her to forgive me?"

"I know she still loves you," Don said, "but right now she's terribly angry with all of us, Ellie and me included. It's going to take time, Spence. I think all any of us can do is show her how sorry we are and be there for her if she needs us."

When Don spoke those words, he had no idea how much his daughter really did need them. Her anger gave her the appearance of a strong, independent woman, but she was anything but. At that moment she was sitting on the edge of her bed with the bedroom door closed, feeling like she was totally going to lose it.

She had felt so abandoned by her family, who even now when they knew the truth and were desperately trying to make it up to her, those feelings of abandonment were still there. She just felt so alone.

After a few minutes, she heard the front door and assumed Spencer had left. A couple of moments later there was a light knocking on her door. "Honey," her mother almost whispered, "Spencer wanted me to tell you he loves you and if there is anything you need, to just call him. I'm sure you know that goes for all of us, honey." She waited for a few seconds, but there was no response from the other side of the door. "Honey, are you okay? Please, answer me."

"Yeah, I'm fine," was the short retort.

"Linda, your father and I are going to spend the night again if that's all right."

"Suit yourself," she replied. She heard her mother walk away from the door and stretched out on the bed. She folded her hands across her stomach and looked up at the ceiling in thought.

She was feeling guilty over the way she had just talked to her mother. She knew they felt bad and were trying to show her how sorry they were, but it was hard to let go of the anger and disappointment. She made up her mind to try and be nicer, at least to her parents, Spencer was a different story. It was his allegations that hurt the worst.

The following Monday, while Linda was sitting down at her work desk for the first time in several days, her attorney, Wyatt Asher, was being escorted into a conference room on the main floor of the local hospital. He was introduced to Erickson Temple, the hospital's CEO, two other members of the administrative staff, two doctors, Ms. Burke, the head nurse who was in charge of the pediatric wing, and George Crowl, the head of their legal department. He was shown a seat opposite his adversaries and smiled confidently as he sat down.

The hospital's head honcho spoke first with an authoritative tone. "All right, Mr. Asher, what's this nonsense all about?"

Without saying a word, Asher reached into his briefcase, pulled out the DNA report, and slid it in front of Temple.

"What's this?" he asked as he took a quick look at the document.

"It's the DNA report showing the infant you sent home with my client belongs to someone else," Asher replied.

"Can I see that?" The hospital's attorney reached across one of the doctors to get the report. He recognized the clinic's name immediately and gave up any hope of disproving it. "This is your client, Mr. Asher? Mrs. Linda Anderson?"

"That's correct."

"Mr. Asher, may I inquire as to why this report was even generated? What prompted Mrs. Anderson to get a DNA test done in the first place?"

"My client has black hair; her husband's is dark brown. For the first few months the baby's hair was so light it was hard to determine the color, but as soon as it started to grow in it became clear that the baby had flaming red hair. The husband became suspicious and did some investigating to see if anyone, either in his family or hers, ever had red hair; the answer was no. So, without telling his wife, he had a DNA test done. When he discovered he was not the baby's father, he accused his wife of infidelity and moved out of the house."

"Shit," grumbled one of the administrators.

"Exactly," Wyatt confirmed before turning his attention back to the other lawyer. "At the suggestion of her boss, my client had her own DNA test done, the results, which you have in your hand, clearly show she is not the baby's mother.

"Now," he continued, "we need the hospital to launch an immediate search for my client's legitimate offspring. Please, keep in mind, damages for my client's psychological and emotional distress will depend on how long it takes you to find her baby. The longer it takes, the higher up the dollar amount goes."

As he was finishing his presentation, Wyatt, along with several others, noticed the nurse, rather kinetically, whispering in the ear of one of the doctors. They all watched as the physician stood and walked behind Mr. Crowl, bent down, and whispered in his ear. The attorney looked over at Wyatt.

"Mr. Asher, could I ask for a brief recess?"

"Well, Mr. Crowl, we're finished here as far as I'm concerned. Now it's up to you to find my client's baby as fast as possible."

"Mr. Asher, we'd appreciate it if you could stick around for a little longer," Crowl responded.

"For how long?"

"Half an hour, at the most."

Asher had no idea what was going on. To him, it appeared they had something up their sleeve. He couldn't possibly imagine what it could be, but in the interest of his client, he felt obligated to stay. "Okay, I'll be in the cafeteria. Page me when you're ready."

Wyatt was just finishing his blueberry pie and coffee when he heard the request for his return over the intercom. Everyone was seated in the same chairs, waiting for him as he walked in. He had just taken his seat when the opposing counsel addressed him.

"Mr. Asher, I don't believe a search for your client's child will be necessary."

Wyatt immediately got his back up. Once they saw the DNA report, he wasn't expecting them to deny their mistake. "And why is that?" he snapped back.

"Because we believe we know who has your client's child," Crowl answered.

That was such a shock Wyatt almost lost his professional demeanor as he questioned, "You do?"

"Yes, Nurse Burke is familiar with the family. I won't reveal their names until we've had a chance to contact them, but the male head of household is of Irish descent and has red hair. The hospital has delivered four babies for them over the years, two of whom also have red hair; although, I guess we can make that three, now.

"Nurse Burke remembered the last delivery was about a year ago. We just checked our records, and the two babies were born within minutes of each other. Nurse Burke believes the mistake was made when the babies were bathed and had their first check-up."

Regaining his professionalism, Wyatt responded, "How long before we can expect confirmation?"

"You understand we can't just make a phone call here. We'll have to set up a meeting between the family and representatives from the hospital, as well as a grief counselor. Give us two weeks."

Wyatt knew the routine. They'd first come up with two different dollar amounts, a high and a low, to offer the other family as a settlement. If they took the money, they'd have to sign an agreement saying no future legal action would be taken against the hospital, in addition to a non-disclosure agreement.

They'd also have to sit down with a good social worker to strategize the best way to approach the family, then, of course, they'd have to have another DNA test done to confirm the baby was Linda's. Wyatt thought the two weeks were reasonable and told them to contact him if there was to be any delay.

As soon as Wyatt was back in his car, he called Linda's cell. When she didn't answer, he left a message saying he needed to see her and Spencer in his office as soon as possible. When Linda listened to the message, her anxiety level increased immediately. She still had anger issues with Spencer and wasn't looking forward to having him there, but she also knew he deserved to be involved. When she called him, he told her to just let him know where and when and he'd be there. A couple of calls later, they had the meeting set for three o'clock the following day.

Wyatt was please when he saw the two walk in together. Things were always much simpler when he could deal with a couple as a pair, instead of individuals. He told them about his meeting in the hospital. Wyatt watched them both as he told them about the nurse's revelation. Linda's reaction was instantaneous.

"What? Are...are you kidding me? They already know?" Tears streamed down her cheeks. She needed more time. She thought she would have more time to come to terms with giving up the only son she knew. "H... how long... how long before I have to hand him over?" she bawled.

Wyatt's heart went out to her, as did Spencer's. "The hospital asked for a couple of weeks, but again, a lot depends on the other couple, as well. They might want to get their own DNA test. They might also want to get a lawyer."

Linda took a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes. Spencer wanted to put his arms around her for comfort but was afraid of being rejected. It was at that moment Wyatt decided to up the ante on the settlement talks.

It was a little after four when they left the lawyer's office. Linda's eyes were still clouded with tears. Spencer was concerned about her getting behind the wheel of a car.

"Linda, there's a little coffee shop around the corner. I saw it when I was pulling in. Let me buy you a cup. I really don't think you should drive home yet."

She thought about it, then accepted his invitation. They found a little table in the corner and ordered. Spencer started the conversation. "How are you doing?"

She forced a chuckle in response. "Ha, that's a stupid question, Spencer. How do you think I'm doing? First, my own parents and loving husband accuse me of being a whore, and now I have to give up my son. Hell," she said sarcastically, "I'm doing just great."

"Linda, he's not our son."

"He is to me," she snapped.

"I know," he acknowledged sympathetically. He didn't know what else to say. His eyes lowered as he stared into the blackness of Colombia's best. He tried to think of something to say or do that would be consoling or reassuring in some way but was at a complete loss.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, both lost in their own thoughts while sipping their coffee. Finally, Spenser stirred. "Your attorney seems to know what he's doing. Where did you find him?"

"Mr. O'Connor recommended him. He handles legal matters for the agency," Linda replied. "He also gave me the number of a therapist."

"You're seeing a therapist?"

"No, I haven't called her yet, but I'm thinking about it. I'm really having a hard time with the thought of handing Terry over to complete strangers."

"Honey, they're not strangers, they're his parents. Look, it sounds like they live here in town somewhere. Maybe they don't have to stay strangers. I'm sure they're nice people. Wouldn't it be nice if we could become friends? That way we'd all be able to see the babies from time to time."

"Yeah, that would be nice, but we have no idea what kind of people they are, or if they'd be interested in being friends. It would be nice, but I'm not going to get my hopes up."

Spencer thought he saw an opportunity. "Ah, listen, maybe I could go to the therapist with you when you go."

"She's not a couples therapist, Spencer, she's a grief counselor."

"Oh, okay, If, ah, if I can arrange it, would you go with me to a couples therapist? I miss you, honey. I was a fool to think you'd ever cheat on me, and I will go to my grave regretting the things I said. I know your parents have stepped up, but it should be me by your side through all this, not them."

There was a desperation in his voice that was hard to miss. "I'll think about it, but don't push me, Spencer. Right now, I just feel like I've got enough to deal with," she said as she took her last sip of coffee. She reached for her purse. "I have to go. I can still beat the traffic home."

"Are you okay to drive?"

"I'm fine," she responded, and with that she left and walked back to her car, leaving Spencer to pay for the coffee. By the time he reached the parking lot, she was gone.

Over the next two weeks, Linda was not deprived of support. Everyone, including Mr. O'Connor and her co-workers, tried to help her come to terms with the inevitable. At times she thought she was better at handling the stress, then would suddenly burst into a crying fit that she couldn't stop.

A full two weeks had passed before Wyatt heard back from the hospital. He was called in for another meeting. There were fewer people in the room than last time, just Mr. Temple, the hospital's CEO, George Crowl, the lawyer from the last meeting, and an associate of his. As soon as Wyatt sat down, Crowl took the floor.

"Mr. Asher, we've established the identity of your client's child. As you might imagine, the family who has been caring for him under the assumption he was their own are grieving the same as your client. In the interest of both families, we've discussed the best way to make the exchange.

"Once a schedule has been established, the children will be dropped off separately, here at the hospital. Each couple will then come in at different intervals to take their rightful child home. We are also prepared to offer your client one hundred thousand dollars for their pain and suffering."

Wyatt was a little confused. "What do you mean, 'dropped off separately?' In other words, you don't want the parents to meet?"

"Exactly," Crowl replied. "We don't believe it would be in their best interest to meet each other."

"You mean it wouldn't be in YOUR best interest to have them meet."

"Mr. Asher, we talked with the other couple and they've expressed no interest in meeting your client."

"Well, my client, Mrs. Anderson, has expressed a strong need to meet the other couple at the time of the exchange. She feels it is absolutely necessary to have closure."

"Mr. Asher, you'll just have to inform your client that won't be possible."

Wyatt was getting angry. "Give me the other couple's contact information. I'll call them and see if they'll agree to the exchange in person."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Asher, that won't be possible either."

There was a brief moment of tense silence in the room before Wyatt rose from his chair and spoke clearly, precisely, and angrily. "We will see you in court gentlemen. I will advise my client to sue in the amount of two million dollars, and I will petition the court to make the exchange in a judge's chambers with all interested parties present. I will also be issuing a press release. Good day, gentlemen."

"Hold on, Mr. Asher, just calm down." Mr. Temple spoke for the first time. From the tone in his voice, Wyatt couldn't tell if he was angry or panicking. "Please," he continued, "take your seat. No one wants a lawsuit here."

Wyatt was still riled up and remained standing. "Then you'd better tell this pompous ass of a lawyer you have to get his head out of his ass. This was your mistake, YOUR fuck-up, and a big one. My client played NO part in it, either knowingly or unknowingly. Not a day goes by that she doesn't break down in tears at the thought of giving up the only son she has known for almost a year now. She was condemned as an adulterer by her husband and her own parents and the state of her marriage is currently in limbo.

"Now, I have already talked this over with my client on a couple of occasions. For her sanity, peace of mind, and psychological well-being, Mrs. Anderson needs to meet the other couple so YOU better convince them it would be in THEIR best interest to do so, or the shit's going to hit the fan, gentlemen, and I mean it. I'll give you till three o'clock this afternoon to let me know what you decide. At three-o-one, I'm filing the suit and calling a press conference." With that, he turned his back and walked out the door.

Wyatt was still furious when he reached his car in the parking lot. He understood the need for a lawyer to protect their client, but he didn't like being talked down to like he was a first-year law student. Several times, Linda had expressed her need to make the exchange in person with the other couple, so he knew he was complying with his client's wishes. By the time he walked back into his office, Wyatt decided to up the ante one more time.

At two-forty-five, Wyatt's secretary told him Mr. Crowl was on line three. Wyatt waited almost a full minute before picking up. "This is Wyatt Asher."

"Mr. Asher, this is George Crowl." He sounded much more contrite over the phone than he had a few hours before. "I talked to Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, and they've agreed to meet with your client in person to make the exchange."