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to let them bypass proper channels any further. “I sent a letter ten days ago alerting you to a request we’d had from the recipient of your son’s heart to meet with you,” she said. “I didn’t find any record in our files that you’d answered.”
Darcy shifted on the hard chair. “No, I didn’t answer. At the time, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to meet the family.”
“And you think you’re ready now.”
“Yes.” Her doubts had vanished when she’d heard Taylor’s story, putting a face—a real, live girl—to the story of the anonymous child who lived because her son had died. Knowing Taylor didn’t make Darcy miss Riley any less, but neither did it make her mourn him more, as she’d originally worried.
“Are you ready because you’ve established a relationship with Dr. Carter and his daughter and you feel this would further that, or because you’re truly ready to know the truth?” Ms. Shehadi’s expression remained impassive.
“What are you suggesting?” Mike asked, his body tense, his voice too loud.
What was she suggesting, indeed? That Darcy had designs on Mike and thought this was a way to get closer to him?
“It’s my job to ask these questions,” Ms. Shehadi said softly. “Meeting someone, especially a child who lives because of the donation of part of someone you loved very much, can have a profound emotional impact on both parties. Usually we require both the donor’s and the recipient’s family to undergo counseling before we arrange the meeting. In a case like this, where you’ve skipped those steps, I want to do what I can to make sure there’s no emotional fallout.”
Emotional fallout. Darcy sat back in her chair. Cold words for the heated turmoil inside her. These past few nights had been full of too many dreams about the last moments of Riley’s life. She’d relived all the guilt and regret, but that didn’t mean she blamed Taylor or Mike for any of those emotions. And she’d reached a point where not knowing the truth was worse than knowing it.
“Can you just tell us?” she asked. “Did Riley’s heart go to Taylor?”
“Yes.”
One short syllable, but it meant so much. Darcy turned to Taylor, the image of the girl blurred by tears. She forced herself to smile. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch Taylor, to satisfy the longing to embrace the child who kept something of Riley alive.
“I promise I’ll take very good care of Riley’s heart,” Taylor said solemnly.
That almost undid Darcy. She struggled to retain her composure.
“Dr. Carter, how do you feel about this?” Ms. Shehadi asked. “I’m assuming, since you originally contacted the donor registry, that you’re satisfied with this outcome.”
Mike’s mouth twitched, and he glanced at Taylor, who squirmed in her chair. “I’m fine,” he said.
“What about Mrs. Carter? Is there a reason she isn’t here today?”
“Taylor’s mother and I are divorced,” Mike said. “She couldn’t be here today because she’s in Germany on business.”
Did Darcy imagine the slight irritation in his voice? She wondered if he was upset with Ms. Shehadi, or with his absent ex-wife. It struck Darcy as odd that Taylor’s mother wasn’t here today. In her place, Darcy would have wanted to reassure and support Taylor. But perhaps the ex–Mrs. Carter felt Mike, as custodial parent, was better equipped for that task.
“Would either of you like to take advantage of the counseling sessions we offer?” Ms. Shehadi asked.
“No thank you.” The last thing Darcy wanted was to discuss her personal feelings with a stranger.
“That won’t be necessary,” Mike said.
Ms. Shehadi continued to study them. Maybe she was merely peeved at having been left out of their original meeting. “Do any of you have questions for me?”
“No.” Mike and Darcy both spoke at once. Darcy stood, and Mike followed her example. Apparently, he was as anxious to escape the office as she was.
“Thank you for your help,” Darcy said, and offered her hand to Ms. Shehadi.
“Yes. Thank you.” Mike also shook hands, then he was ushering Darcy and Taylor into the hallway. “I don’t think Ms. Shehadi approves of us,” he whispered to Darcy as Taylor walked ahead of them toward the exit.
“I’m sure the rules are in place to protect people,” Darcy said.
Mike stopped and faced her. “You’re really okay with this?” he asked.
“I am. A little shaken, I guess. But only because this has brought back so many memories of that day ….” She let the words trail away, determined not to dwell on the sadness. “Seeing Taylor so happy and healthy, and knowing I had a part in that helps more than I would have thought.”
“Thank you,” Mike said. “The words aren’t enough, and they can’t possibly convey the depth of my gratitude, but they’re all I know to say.”
“You’re welcome. I kept the letter you wrote to me. Not Taylor’s—the one the Donor Alliance forwarded to me right after the transplant.” The letter had been short and to the point.
“I don’t even remember what I wrote. I was still in such a fog after everything that had happened. And Taylor was still a very sick little girl then.”
Darcy wondered at the miracle of all of this—not just the miracle of Riley’s heart beating in this girl’s chest, but the miracle of their learning the truth. Had there been a divine hand at work in bringing them together? She’d started the dance class as a way to bring children into her life, but never dreamed she’d bring in this particular child. That was another kind of miracle, that Darcy would have a chance to be a part of Taylor’s life, even if it was only for a couple of hours one afternoon a week.
And then there was Taylor’s father—a handsome, overprotective, enigmatic and intriguing man. He would of necessity be part of Darcy’s life now, too. The thought was a warm ember in a heart that had been cold too long. Looking at him now, seeing his genuine concern, she felt a little less lonely than she had before.
WHEN TAYLOR HUGGED her in greeting the next Wednesday afternoon, Darcy felt a special warmth in the embrace. She fought the urge to cling to the girl too long, to listen to the steady beat of the little heart and remember her son.
“I told my mom all about you,” Taylor said. “She wants to meet you.”
“I’d be happy to meet her.” She was curious about the woman who had divorced a man like Mike. The more she saw of the handsome pediatrician, the better her picture of a devoted father. Had he been a less devoted husband? Or was some other fatal flaw lurking beneath the handsome, caring facade?
“Can you come to dinner at my house this weekend?” Taylor asked.
“Your house?”
“Yeah. She said that would be easier. Her apartment’s really small and besides, she doesn’t cook.”
Wasn’t that what restaurants were for? “And your dad is okay with us meeting at your house?” she asked.
“Dad doesn’t mind. Mom eats with us all the time.”
“All right,” Darcy said. What business was it of hers if Mike dined regularly with his ex. After all, the woman was the mother of his child. It was probably great for Taylor that her parents got along so well. “I’m working Friday evening, but I can come Saturday.”
“Great.” Taylor’s eyes shone. “I can’t wait.”
Darcy was nervous at the thought of sitting down face-to-face with Mike and his ex. They’d want to talk about the transplant, of course, and about Riley and the circumstances of his death. She’d have to work hard to keep