“Developmental delay?”
“Yes. Ben does everything much slower than other children.”
The pain in Jake’s chest became so tight that it was unbearable.
“Mrs. Carr was Ben’s lifeline and she was determined that Ben would be a normal little boy. She lived in Bryan but she relocated to Houston so Ben could be near the hospital and doctors. At first Ben didn’t have the muscle tone to accomplish simple tasks. Mrs. Carr, under a developmental pediatrician’s guidance, began an exercise program for Ben. She massaged his arms and legs, even the inside of his mouth, to stimulate him. When she took Ben home, she continued the exercises. They took from three to four hours and she did them at least twice a day, but it was worth it. This little boy—who was supposed to be a vegetable if he lived at all—was able to roll over at ten months. At fifteen months he crawled and he took his first steps six months ago. Mrs. Carr was working on his speech and he was starting to say words and whole sentences, then…”
Ms. Wood stopped. “Irene was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and she died quickly. She was so busy caring for Ben that she didn’t take care of herself. She was devoted to Ben, I suspect mainly because she’d had such a disaster with her daughter.” She stopped again. “When you met Sherry at that hotel, she was supposed to be clean and working but, as you found, that wasn’t true. She also lied to you about birth control. Irene said Sherry was never able to take the pill and Irene worried about pregnancy all the time because Sherry’s boyfriend was a drug dealer. He was in prison when you met her. CPS hasn’t been involved in Ben’s case since Mrs. Carr was granted custody, but we’ve checked on him from time to time. When Mrs. Carr became ill, she contacted us. That’s the reason I’m here today.”
Jake listened to all of this in a state of shock, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. His throat burned with an ache he couldn’t assuage. His son had needed him and he hadn’t been there.
“Mr. McCain, are you okay?” Ms. Woods asked with concern.
“Yes,” he answered with difficulty. “Sherry…where is she now?”
“As I told you earlier, we don’t know. When Ben was about a month old, her boyfriend, Rusty, was released from prison. Mrs. Carr was in Houston with Ben and Sherry was in their Bryan home. The boyfriend went there and Sherry and Irene argued. Irene didn’t want him in her house and she was trying to get Sherry to return to Houston and Ben. Sherry came one more time to see him, then she left with Rusty. Two months later Irene got a phone call from the police. Rusty shot a woman in El Paso when a drug deal went bad. The Texas Rangers became involved and said they were in Mexico. Irene got several phone calls from various border towns, but they still haven’t been located.”
Jake frowned. “She just left with her boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“How could she abandon her own son?”
“Mr. McCain, Sherry has had lots of problems since her father was killed in a freak accident when she was sixteen. He was the center of her world and she never recovered from it. She got in with a bad crowd, got into drugs. From what I understand, Mrs. Carr did everything she could to help her daughter, but Sherry was bent on a course of self-destruction.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure you noticed some of this when you met her.”
“Yes,” he murmured. He recognized early that Sherry had problems he didn’t want to get involved with. He remembered her talking constantly about her father and how he understood her and her mother didn’t. But that didn’t explain how she could just leave Ben.
Jake stood on shaky legs. “I want to see my son.”
She was taken aback. “I’m not through, Mr. McCain.”
“There’s more?” he asked hoarsely.
“Yes. Ben has regressed since Mrs. Carr’s death. He’s stopped speaking, he falls often and he rarely smiles. So we have to handle this very carefully.”
“Please, I want to see my son,” he repeated.
“You will, I promise, but I wish you would listen to everything I have to say.”
“What else could there possibly be?” He was losing patience and could feel his tension building.
“You haven’t asked where Ben is.”
“I assume he’s in a foster home somewhere,” he replied.
“All the more reason for me to take responsibility for him.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Why?”
“Mrs. Carr’s sister and her husband moved in when she became so ill. She wanted someone there for Ben.”
Thank God. At least Ben was with family. “I’m glad,” he said simply.
Ms. Woods picked up a pencil, then glanced directly at him. “Our office got a call this morning from an attorney. The Fosters have decided they want to adopt Ben and they’re filing for custody.”
“What!” His eyes burned into her.
“They’re very fond of Ben.”
“He’s my son,” Jake stated as if he needed to remind her of that.
“Yes, but Ben is comfortable with Peggy and Carl. He knows them and they know how to take care of him.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I might not get my son?”
“As I told you, a judge will make that decision, but I want you to be aware of this new development.”
He gulped in a breath at the injustice of it all and then anger quickly overtook him. It seemed as if they were conspiring to keep him from Ben, and he wasn’t letting that happen. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned in close to Ms. Woods’s face. “You came looking for me, lady, and you found me. I’m Ben’s father and I want to see him…now.”
“I have every intention of taking you to Ben,” she said crisply.
Jake straightened. “Good. Let’s go.”
Ms. Woods let out a long sigh. “I have to make arrangements with the Fosters. We can’t barge in on them.”
“Okay, make the arrangement.” He tried to remain calm.
“Mrs. Carr lived in Houston, as I told you, and that’s a four-hour drive. We may not be able to do it until tomorrow.”
Jake glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back at one. That’ll give you enough time to inform the Fosters that I’m coming.” He turned toward the door.
“Mr. McCain, I can’t—”
“One o’clock, Ms. Woods,” he said, and closed the door.
ELISE WAS HAVING A BAD morning. Her eyes were red and puffy and makeup hadn’t helped. She should have been at the university by now, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. Jake was gone and he wasn’t coming back; she couldn’t get past that and the hateful things he’d said.
She went into the closet to get her gray suit jacket and saw Jake’s clothes…a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts. He also had some socks and underwear in a drawer. In six months of marriage, that was all Jake had brought to her house. It was as if he’d been