Formula: Father. Jolie Kramer

Formula: Father - Jolie  Kramer


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deftly around a See-n-Spell that mooed for no apparent reason. “Did you and Abby have a nice lunch? I was so sorry to miss out.” She embraced Darcy in a fierce hug, then her hands grasped Darcy’s upper arms, which she held as she studied her friend’s face. “I swear to God, you are more gorgeous than anyone I’ve ever met.”

      “Oh, come on.”

      “I’m not kidding.”

      Darcy smiled, knowing that Beth meant it as a compliment and not as an opening line to precede a favor.

      “You know I’m not lying. You could always tell when I was.”

      “And you did plenty of it, if my memory serves.”

      Beth’s grin was exactly the same as when she’d been seven years old, and Darcy had been her babysitter. “I was a perfect angel as a child. And I refuse to believe anything different.”

      Darcy couldn’t help but laugh. Beth had always been so cheerful, so excited about life.

      “Do you have a minute? I want to hear what Mitchell said when you told him why you were here.”

      “That won’t take long. He said—”

      “No, not yet. I’m supposed to be on a break, so why don’t I walk you to your car.”

      “Really?”

      She nodded, sending her dark curly hair bobbing down her back. Darcy wanted to tell her what a beautiful woman she’d become, but she decided to wait till their next meeting. She didn’t want it to sound as if she were just returning Beth’s compliment.

      “I’ll be one second.” Beth scurried to the far side of the day care to speak to an older woman who was helping a little boy fix a toy truck.

      Darcy’s gaze swept the large, cheerful place until she noticed the garden outside. Lush and green, with all sorts of intriguing plants, it seemed a perfect place to find peace and quiet.

      At that thought, a great shriek rang out, and Darcy spun to find a little girl—she looked to be around five—howling like a banshee, her face scrunched up in a mask of pure misery. Darcy rushed over to her, searching for blood or a broken bone at the very least. What she found instead was a baby doll with black marker on its face. Two big dark circles, as if the doll had lost a barroom brawl.

      Darcy crouched so she was nearly eye level with the girl, who, she saw, would be extremely pretty if she ever stopped crying. “Honey, are you crying because of your doll?”

      The girl sniffed and nodded, which caused a teardrop to fall on Darcy’s hand. She completely melted. Then she took the doll and tried to wipe off the black marker, but it didn’t help. The shiners were there for keeps. She’d have to try another tack. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

      After another sniff, the girl mumbled something Darcy didn’t catch.

      “What is it?”

      “Courtney.”

      “Oh, that’s a beautiful name.” She held up the doll. “And what’s her name?”

      “Lizabeth.”

      “That’s a beautiful name, too. But you know what?”

      Courtney shook her head, still looking so woeful it broke Darcy’s heart.

      “She’s going to need your help from now on.”

      “What?”

      “Lizabeth. She’s very special now, and it will take a very special little girl to care for her properly.”

      “She’s no good anymore. Gilbert ruined her.”

      “Gilbert didn’t ruin her. He gave her a cross to bear. Do you know what that means?”

      Again, Courtney shook her head. But at least she’d stopped crying.

      “It means that she’s different from all the other dolls. Her eyes make her different. Now, most people don’t like things that are different. They don’t realize how wonderful it is to love someone like Lizabeth.”

      “Why is it wonderful?”

      “Because you know what Lizabeth is really like. You know that behind all this marker, there’s a sweet, beautiful doll, right?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “So when your friends see you treating her as if she were brand-new and perfect, they’ll learn to see past the black marker, too.”

      “Really?”

      “Really. And before you know it, Lizabeth will be the most popular doll in the whole day care.”

      Courtney wiped her face with the back of a perfect tiny hand. She reached for the battered doll, which Darcy put carefully into her arms. Then, without a goodbye, Courtney headed across the room.

      Darcy watched her go to the playhouse and crawl inside, taking the doll with her.

      “You’re gonna be one heck of a great mother,” Beth said.

      Darcy looked up at her voice. She’d been so intent on Courtney that she hadn’t even realized Beth was standing right behind her.

      “You know, we’re always looking for good help here.”

      Darcy smiled as she rose. “No, thanks. With any luck at all I’m going to have a full-time job as a mommy very soon.”

      “Which brings us back to what Mitchell said.”

      “In a nutshell, he said he wasn’t keen on the idea of being my doctor.”

      “Which you’d anticipated.”

      “Yes, but now—” she looked at the playhouse once more “—now I know I need to convince him to take me on.”

      “Why?”

      “Because this is my home. And, like it or not, you guys are the closest thing I’ve got to family. And I’m going to need all of you to help me with this child.”

      Beth held open the door for her and they stepped into the hall. “I’ll do what I can to help.”

      “I know you will. And I appreciate that more than you can imagine.”

      “I’ve needed the family to stand by me, too. Mitchell will come through. He always does.”

      They were walking by the elevators when a very tall, very good-looking man approached Beth.

      “Excuse me. I’m looking for Megan Maitland.”

      “And you are?”

      “Harrison Smith. I’m here to discuss my daughter’s care.”

      “Is she a patient here?”

      “No, but she might turn out to be one. If things check out.”

      “I’m sure you’ll find there’s no safer place for your daughter in the world,” Beth assured him. “Or better care.”

      He nodded, but Darcy had the feeling he wasn’t convinced.

      “Megan Maitland’s office is upstairs. There’s a receptionist who will call her for you.”

      “Thank you.”

      Darcy took a step toward Beth as they watched the man ring for the elevator. They didn’t speak again until the doors had closed behind him and the elevator had started moving.

      “What a stunner,” Beth said.

      “How old do you think he was?”

      “Forty. Maybe forty-five.”

      “Did you see those dark blue eyes?”

      Beth nodded. “And that thick black hair?”

      “God, if Lagerfeld ever got a hold of a man


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