“I don’t understand,” Keveney murmured softly within the darkness of the living room, watching Howie intently study the birthday card that had arrived just hours before, rubbing the back of her cramping neck in a soft circular motion. She still seemed to be floating within a daze of confusion, scared when Howie startled her from her sleep. He had been so pale and diaphoretic, complaining that his heart was nearly about to beat out of his chest. At first she feared it might be a heart attack, but Howie was so health conscious that it didn’t seem possible. Then when he murmured Jillian’s name attached with her birth mother a wave of nausea flooded her body. It was almost as if someone had tossed a bucket of ice water onto her bare body, jarring her away from the peacefulness of normalcy. She longed to go back to bed to forget this was happening, but feared she’d never be able to sleep again.
“She wants Jillian back,” Howie retorted, his voice raspy with pain as he pushed the card onto the coffee table. He then fell back into the couch, covering his face with his hands, feeling the trembles in each fingertip. The woman had been adamant about the destruction she would cause if Jillian wasn’t returned. And it angered him. After a year of life, now she suddenly wanted her daughter? What could she possibly want with Jillian when she so willingly tossed Jillian into two Walmart bags before dropping her into the farthest, darkest dumpster in the most ominous alleyway?
“I know she wants Jillian back, but why does she want Jillian back?” Keveney emphasized with a hard sigh, reading the name scrawled above the number to some dingy hotel in the center of the city. It was the calling card of a criminal. Or perhaps some cheap prostitute strung on a powerful elixir of potent recreational drugs. Amelia Regan. The name was so formal, however. So classy. So uncharacteristic of a woman who would try to purposely kill her newborn. The very thought that the woman actually had the gall to personally drop off a birthday card and demand for the child was sickening to Keveney. She knew where they lived. What was to keep her from stealing Jillian back? Would she be that desperate? A cold chill chased the nerve impulses running down Keveney’s spine.
“Jillian is her child…” Howie attempted to rationalize.
“That she left for dead,” Keveney emphasized, obviously in no mood to play games.
“Keveney--”
“She probably figured out who you were… She wants money--”
“She didn’t ask for money, Kevie.”
“But she threatened you--”
“She just wants her child back.”
Keveney tensed at Howie’s soft chiding, standing from the couch she had been occupying with him. Her small hands balled into fists as she glanced down at her broken lover. She didn’t understand why he was acting this way. It was as if he didn’t even love Jillian. That he had no intention of fighting for her, which set Keveney’s emotions into turmoil. He was so passive. So oblivious. So vague. Her parents had fought for her. Jillian couldn’t be lost into the waste of society. “Why are you being so damn passive?!”
“What do you want me to do, Kevie?” Howie questioned weakly.
“I want you to call her and tell her where she can shove that birthday card!”
“It’s not just my decision--”
“What are you--”
“If she goes to the public, I’m not the only one she’s going to be hurting. My career won’t be the only one ruined. Not to mention the threat of legal action--”
“What are you saying, Howie?”
“I’m saying… I have to call the guys…”
“She’s your daughter.”
Howie nodded slightly, dropping his head in shame as his conscience reminded him of the darkness. Truth be told, Jillian wasn’t his biological daughter. No matter how much he loved her, he couldn’t take back the egregious decision he made to claim her. It was illegal and probably some sickening form of kidnapping. But, the desperation in Keveney’s light violet eyes told him not to say a word. Not that he could do much with his words as Jillian cried out for her parents. Tears immediately flooded his dark eyes as he choked back a sob.
“Mama! Dada!” Jillian announced loudly, feebly shaking the rails of her crib. “Mama! Dada! ‘Elp!”
“You have to promise me that you’re going to fight for her,” Keveney whispered painfully, crouching back onto the couch beside her lover. “She can’t go back to that wretched woman, no matter what she threatens. What she did was illegal. She almost killed Jillian. If she gets her back… I don’t want to think about what would happen. She’d never survive. She’s so innocent… You have to fight for her. Howie, please, fight for her…”
Feeling Keveney’s arms wrap around his neck, Howie was unable to hold back his strangled sob. He immediately embraced her, tucking his face into the crook of her neck as she called to Jillian, promising they would be right up. But Howie could barely hear her over his painful cries, clinging to the warmth his lover provided as he repeated the painful mantra, “She’s my baby girl, Kevie. My baby girl.”
“I can’t believe she wants Jillian back,” Brian finally voiced through the silence of the tense group, the first to speak since Howie had explained their woeful dilemma. He had scheduled a “get together” early that morning, citing that there was a huge Emergency underfoot. They had raced over to find Howie a broken man, unable to hide his tears as he divulged the painful information. Everyone had been thinking the exact same sentiment that Brian first uttered, but none had the strength nor the bravery to say so. In fact, it took all of Brian’s courage to string that simple sentence together. Because, no matter what was decided that day, pain would accumulate. If they gave Jillian back to her mother, their hearts would ache with a tender loss. If they kept Jillian, their careers would be set aflame, legal actions would be taken against them, and there was a chance of losing Jillian all over again.
“I know, but what am I supposed to do?” Howie questioned softly, unable to even glance at his mixture of friends. He had made sure that Keveney took Jillian to the park to play while this conversation occurred. Jillian was a bright child and even at only a year of age knew that trouble was brewing at home. She had demanded to be cuddled between Keveney and Howie while they slept last night. Well, while Keveney and Jillian had slept. Howie had stayed up all night, watching them, burning the image into his memory. Just in case...
“You already know what you have to do,” Kevin answered, his voice deep and grave, matching his dark facial expressions. Brian, Nick, and AJ immediately shifted uncomfortable, turning their gazes elsewhere as Kevin focused on Howie. They knew what was coming was less than supportive of fighting for Jillian. But, damnit… Lord knew that he had no desire to say what he was about to say, but he had to. Their careers had to come first and foremost. They had worked so hard and so long to become successful. Some of them had families to take care of, which required their steady income. They had to protect themselves as heartbreaking as it would be.
“What do you mean?” AJ questioned in confusion.
“Jillian’s mother wants her back… So, give her back,” Kevin stated without any emotion, wanting it to be about logistics instead of morals and emotions. He hoped that would satisfy the others, but they looked stricken at his matter of fact statement. Kevin released a hard sigh. “You may have saved Jillian’s life that night, but you lied when you said she was your flesh and blood. I think that has to be some kind of kidnapping. And if this woman is willing to give you free clearance of any convictions or hassles if she just gets Jillian back in time. Then, so be it. Why put everyone through some messy fight? We won’t win Jillian. This woman is Jillian’s birthmother. We have no right to her.”
Howie winced as Nick’s jaw dropped ajar. “Now wait--”
“Jillian wasn’t Howie’s to begin with, Nick,” Kevin emphasized.
"So she's going back to her mother?" AJ questioned softly. "The one that tried to kill her?"
"Maybe she's changed?" Brian suggested hopefully.
"Don't be so fucking naive," Nick snapped.
"Everyone's upset, Nick, don't take it out on Brian," Kevin chided, turning to Howie, knowing it was better just to do it quickly. As if they were ripping off a Band-Aid. “You know what you have to do, D. I’m sorry.”
“Me too,” Howie whispered with devastation, squeezing his eyes shut to keep the tears from flowing. He had known from the very beginning when he received the birthday card what would have to be done. He had hoped to keep himself in denial, just so he could keep Jillian for awhile longer. But that was impossible. The woman had set demands that he had to follow, otherwise the law would be involved. It was about saving his friends, even if it meant giving up a part of his heart. Wincing at the thought, Howie reached for the phone to dial the list of digits. “…Amelia?”
