Bachelor Father. Pamela Bauer
remembered, she scrambled out of bed and hurried downstairs only to find Marie was alone in the kitchen. “Is Avery still asleep?”
“No, he’s gone. He had an appointment early this morning,” Marie answered. “Aren’t you feeling well?”
The question made Faith aware that in her haste to talk to the doctor she hadn’t pulled on her robe and slippers. She stood barefoot in her nightgown, her hair tousled from sleep.
“I had a dream,” Faith said with a sense of urgency. “One that I could remember.” She held up the piece of paper on which she’d jotted her notes. “I thought I should tell him about it…you know, to see if it has any significance.”
“You mean any clues to your past.” Faith nodded and Marie said, “I’m afraid I don’t know as much on the subject of dreams as Avery does, but I’m willing to listen if you want to talk about it.”
Faith did want to talk about it, and since Marie had become her friend, she didn’t hesitate to say, “I’d like that.” Feeling the cold floor beneath her feet, she shifted from one foot to the other.
Marie noticed and said, “Why don’t we go into the living room and I’ll turn on the fireplace? We’ll be much more comfortable there.”
Faith agreed, then followed her into the adjoining room where with the flick of a switch, Marie made gas flames dance in the brick fireplace. Then she reached for a lap robe that had been draped over the back of the love seat and gave it to Faith, motioning for her to take a chair near the hearth. “This should keep you warm.”
Faith tucked her feet beneath her as she sat down, thanking her hostess as she covered herself with the soft woolen robe. “I can’t believe I actually remembered something from a dream.”
Marie took the wingback chair next to her. “It sounds as if you think it may be important.”
“I’m not sure. It really wasn’t much, but I did write down what I could remember when I woke up—just like Avery told me to do. Unfortunately the images faded quickly.”
“Dreams have a way of doing that,” Marie commented, leaning closer to her. “Now tell me about yours.”
She glanced down at the notes on her paper. “I was holding a baby. Actually, I was rocking it.”
“Were you at the child-care center?” Marie asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think I may have been because it’s the only time I rock babies, and Megan Novak was there, too.” She paused, rubbing her fingers across her brow as she struggled to remember more details.
“Go on, dear,” Marie encouraged.
“Megan asked me if she could see the baby, but when I pulled back the blanket, it wasn’t a baby in my arms at all. It was a doll. A faceless doll. And when Megan saw it she began to cry.” She shrugged. “That’s it. That’s all I can remember.”
The look Marie gave her was intent. “No other details? Clothing, furniture, time of day?”
Faith shook her head. “I think Megan wore a hospital gown, but I’m not sure.”
When Marie didn’t say anything for several moments, Faith asked, “Do you think the doll could be a real baby? My baby?”
“And she didn’t have a face because you can’t remember her?” Marie accurately followed the direction of her thoughts.
“It would explain why Megan cries when she sees the doll.”
Marie’s brow wrinkled. “Why do you say that?”
“If Megan is my daughter and the doll represents her as an infant, then it’s only natural that she’d be upset that I don’t remember her,” Faith reasoned.
Marie was quiet for a moment, her eyes thoughtful while she contemplated the possibility. “You might be right,” she finally admitted. “Or it could be that your subconscious is simply trying to sort through everything Adam Novak told you yesterday. After all, you only had this dream after he told you about Megan’s mother.”
Faith nodded pensively, aware that Marie made a valid point. “You’re saying if Adam hadn’t told me about Megan mistaking me for her mother, I might not have had the dream at all.”
Marie’s voice softened as she said, “That’s not what you wanted to hear, is it?”
She shook her head again. “I keep looking for signs….” Faith struggled to keep her disappointment from showing.
Marie reached across to place her hand on Faith’s arm. “I know how difficult it’s been for you these past few weeks. You want answers, but I’m not sure you’re going to find them in your dreams.”
“Then where do I find them?”
“Avery said a simple DNA test would prove whether or not you’re Megan’s mother.”
Faith remembered Avery mentioning a medical test that could be done to determine whether a biological relationship existed between two people. Because she was exhausted both physically and emotionally, she’d had difficulty following his explanation of genetic coding and he’d told her not to worry because they would talk about it again if it was necessary.
“By finding out who you’re not, you’ll at least have one answer,” Marie continued.
Faith nodded, biting on her lower lip as she mulled over what Marie said. “It’ll take a while to get the results.”
“And you’re in a hurry,” Marie stated with an understanding smile. “You want the answer now, don’t you?” When Faith nodded she added, “Maybe you don’t need a DNA test.”
Faith frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You could go straight to Megan Novak. You said last night that her father hadn’t seen her mother recently. Megan, on the other hand, saw her daily. Even if she is only six, she should be able to identify her own mother,” Marie reasoned. She tapped a finger against her forehead. “Amnesia has affected what’s inside here, not your physical appearance. I doubt Megan’s forgotten the sound of her mother’s voice or the feel of her hands.”
“You think she’ll be able to tell right away?”
“Don’t you?”
It was something Faith had contemplated last night as she’d tossed and turned before falling asleep. Right or wrong, Megan believed Faith was her mother based on an encounter they’d had while she’d been sedated. She no longer suffered the effects of anesthesia. The next meeting between them could very well force Megan to accept that she’d been mistaken, that Faith wasn’t her mother.
As Faith showered, thoughts of the six-year-old continued to occupy her mind. Be responsible. A man’s voice echoed in her memory, startling her. She had no idea from what part of her past the voice had come, but there was no denying its presence. She shut off the water, hoping to hear other voices, but there were none. Briefly she closed her eyes, willing her mind to remember the time when she’d heard that voice, but all she saw was darkness.
Answers. She wanted answers, which was why when she arrived at the hospital she didn’t go to the day-care center but took the elevator to the second floor and went straight to the nursing station. When she asked which room Megan Novak occupied and if she was allowed to have visitors, she learned that Adam Novak had spent the night in his daughter’s room. Butterflies began to flutter in her stomach.
Just the thought of seeing him again sent a delicious shiver of anticipation through her. She remembered how those dark eyes had pierced her with an intensity that had made her go weak at the knees.
When she reached room 217, the door was open but a curtain had been pulled around the bed. Faith could hear voices—a child’s and an adult’s. The adult’s voice belonged to a woman. Faith paused outside the room, not wanting to intrude.
Within a few