A Baby for Christmas (Love at The Crossroads) (13 page)

“Wait. Let’s pray before you go,” her mother suggested.

Nodding, she linked hands with her parents and bowed her head.

“Father, in the name of Jesus, we come boldly to Your throne of grace with thanksgiving,” her father began.

“We know that every perfect gift comes from You. We know You bless the good and the bad, so we thank You for remembering our daughter with this child. Satan, you tried to break my daughter’s spirit with the surgery and then rejection from idiotic men, but God is faithful and everything is working toward His plan in Jesus’ name.”

They sung a chorus of “Amens” while wiping their eyes. “Daddy, that was beautiful. I hope I didn’t mess up my makeup. Okay, I better go. I don’t want to be late picking up my daughter.”

“We can’t wait to meet her! Have you thought about a name? You know you have to include—”

“Wyatt-Palmer. I know. I haven’t decided if I want something simple or exotic like Beyoncé where she will grow into her name.” It was just one more of those tasks that women have nine months to decide compared to Solae’s less than twenty-four hours.

“Here, you may need this.” Her mother handed over a diaper bag stocked with pampers, baby wipes, change of clothing, and a few blankets.

“So much to remember.” Solae grinned, then laughed.  “Bye.”

Solae walked through the doors of the Missouri Adoption Agency with “a pep” in her step that she never possessed before. She never felt as empowered as she did at the moment, knowing that with a signature, she would legally and officially become a mother.

“Mrs. Wyatt-Palmer.” Mrs. Roberts stood from behind her desk when Solae was escorted to her office. The woman’s large stature was a dichotomy of her small, quiet voice.  If Solae wasn’t five-ten in heels, she might have been intimidated, but not today.

“Miss,” Solae corrected.

“Of course. Miss. I’m sorry. Please have a seat. I know you’re anxious to see your angel. The baby’s name is Miriam, but of course you’re entitled to legally change it to your liking.” Mrs. Roberts took her seat and opened a blue folder where Solae’s life story was an open book: credit report, criminal background, personal references, business references, neighbors—everything that gave an inkling of who Solae Wyatt-Palmer was.

“Here are the documents.” Solae slid copies of pay stubs and other material Mrs. Roberts had requested in front of her. Next, Solae couldn’t ever remember signing so much paperwork. Although she was anxious to see her little girl, the caseworker reviewed every piece of paper in detail, only adding to Solae’s impatience. Thirty minutes later with the last stroke of her signature on the last form, Solae sat back. “Whew.”

“I guess you are ready to see your baby,” Mrs. Roberts said, standing.

Beaming, Solae jumped to her feet. “Yes, I am!”

“Follow me.”

The two left the office and walked across the hall. Mrs. Roberts blocked Solae’s view as she opened the door to what appeared to be a lounge. Nobody was there, at least from what Solae could see until the caseworker stepped aside.

Sitting quietly on an older woman’s lap, the child’s inquisitive eyes watched Solae. The baby had thick, jet black hair and brown skin that almost matched her complexion. The red corduroy outfit with a matching cap reminded Solae of a Christmas package. She appeared indifferent to Solae as she took a seat next to her.

“I’m Mrs. Dodson, the foster parent. You’re getting a well-mannered baby, dear.”

“Thank you.” Solae’s vision blurred as she was overcome with tears of joy. When the foster mother put her baby on her lap, Solae sobbed uncontrollably. Now she wished her parents had come. The moment was more overwhelming than Solae had expected.

Mrs. Roberts stood by her side and patted Solae’s shoulder. “That’s okay, dear. Happy tears are good. The baby will be a blessing, you’ll see.”

Composing herself, Solae nodded and reached for her baby. At first, she resisted moving from her spot on the woman’s lap.

“It’s okay, precious. I’m your new mommy, and I’ll be the best mommy.”

The baby smiled.

Solae continued to coax her until the baby willingly came to her. “She’s mine.” Bouncing her, she peered into her face, still deciding if she looked like a Jennifer, Sydney, Stacey, Nicole or something exotic. She nuzzled the child’s neck. She smelled fresh. “You’re so sweet like Hershey’s kisses.” 

Hershel.
Should she? Solae smiled. “I’ll call her Hershey for now.” She stood and shifted the baby to one side.

Mrs. Roberts smiled and clapped her hands. “Yes, she’s definitely sweet like a piece of candy.”

Candy—Candace. That was another option. The women escorted Solae and Hershey to her car and made sure her daughter was strapped inside the car seat in the back before offering her hugs.

“Good luck,” Mrs. Roberts said.

“Who needs luck when you have a good God,” Solae corrected and got in behind the wheel. “Jesus, thank You for not forsaking me. You are faithful even when I gave up hope. Thank You, in Jesus’ magnificent name. Amen.”

Once she secured her seatbelt, she called her parents. “Hershey and I are on our way.”

“Hershey?”

“That’s what she reminded me of when I saw her—a sweet treat.” Solae giggled. “I like the nickname, but I’m leaning toward Madison.”

“Hmm. I wonder what your inspiration was for the nickname.” Minerva chuckled. “Okay, your dad and I will be waiting!” They disconnected and Solae pulled off.

Solae hadn’t been on the interstate twenty minutes before traffic began to slow. Thank God Hershey wasn’t fussy. Smiling, Solae began to sing praises as she inched along. Finally, she was able to pick up speed.

When Solae glanced in her rearview mirror, she noticed an SUV coming behind her with too much speed. “Slow down,” she said as the driver slammed on his brakes, but it was too late. He collided into the back of Solae’s car.

“Jesus!” Solae screamed as her car spun around before it crashed, then everything faded to black.

Hershel thought it was time for him and the boys to surprise Solae this coming weekend. He had four days off and he would use one of them to sleep before getting on the road. Hershel put his scheming on hold when the warning alarm sounded throughout the fire station.

“Engine 8, Engine 10, Engine 7, Rescue 72, Battalion 5, 1-76, car crash,
Select Fire 4, Fire 4,” the central dispatcher announced over the speakers.

While hurrying from the kitchen,
Hershel nodded to his brother, Felix, and Allen. “Let’s go.” Switching to channel four on the scanner, Hershel learned there were injuries and persons trapped inside.

With their sirens blaring and lights flashing, they headed toward the situation, and as customary, Hershel prayed for God’s mercy to protect life and property. When the crew arrived on the scene, through the mayhem, Hershel took a look at the accident scene.

The car reminded him of Solae’s silver Mazda. He immediately got briefed. “She’s alive,” one of the paramedics advised him.

His crew immediately used the Hurst tool. The Jaws of Life ripped open the driver’s door. The paramedic secured the woman’s neck on the stretcher. His mind must really be on Solae, because the victim reminded him of her, but she was in Chicago.

“Wait a minute.” Hershel took a closer look and his knees weakened. His breath left him momentarily.
Oh my God, Solae.
He had seen some horrific scenes on the job, including mangled and charred bodies of children and complete families that perished, but he barely had enough strength to stomach the sight of the woman he loved, injured.

“Solae,” he whispered.

She moaned. “My baby…my baby….my baby.”

John Snowe turned to Hershel. “Captain Kavanaugh, you know the victim?”

Hershel swallowed. “Yes. We’ve dated.”

“My baby…” Solae continued to moan.

“She doesn’t have any children. She’s delirious.”

“Think again, Captain; we just pulled a baby out of the back seat.”

“What? Is the child alive?”

“Yes. Car seats do save lives,” Royce advised. “I better call Candace.”

“You might want to call Julia first and have her go over there,” Hershel advised.

“You’re right.”

“I’ll contact her mother,” Hershel said as he stayed by Solae’s side while she was loaded into the ambulance.

“My baby.” Solae voice was faint.

“Shh. The baby is okay,” he cooed, then turned to the paramedics. “Where ya heading?”

“Barnes trauma.”

Stepping aside, Royce watched the paramedic drive off, then pick up speed. “Lord, forget the property. Please save her life and this baby.” How could he continue to work the scene when the woman he loved was fighting for her life? The good news was she was alive.

“You okay, bro—Captain Kavanaugh?” Royce nudged him.

“No, I’m not.” He walked away, confused and in shock as he located Solae’s mother’s number.

“Hello?” She answered cheerfully.

“Ah, Mrs. Wyatt-Palmer?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Hershel Kavanaugh….” He paused. “Is Mr. Wyatt-Palmer at home?”

“Yes, he is. Would you like to speak to him?”

“Well, both of you. I’m working the scene of an accident…It was Solae.”

Mrs. Palmer screamed. Hershel exhaled as he heard her piece together “accident and Solae.” Immediately, her father got on the line.

“This is Washington Wyatt-Palmer. What is going on?”

After Hershel repeated what little information he knew, they asked, “What about the baby?”

Hershel was becoming annoyed for being out of the loop. Whose child was it?  “The baby is alive. I don’t know the extent of any injuries because the car seat protected him—”

“Her,” her father corrected. “That’s my grandbaby. Where is she?”

“She’s en route to Barnes Hospital.”

Click.

Where did she get a baby? Is that why she moved to Chicago? Solae never mentioned a baby. What was going on? Hershel planned on getting answers soon, but first he had to finish his job. Walking back to the crash site, Hershel looked at the mangled car and praised God that Solae had survived. When his crew began to mop up the scene so that the restricted lanes of traffic could be opened, Hershel prayed.

“Man, Julia said Candace fainted. I’ve got to go see about my wife.” Royce looked as frustrated as him. “They’re heading to the hospital.”

“I’ll call for backup so we can get out of here.” Hershel accomplished that, explaining the circumstances.

“I understand, captain,” Battalion Chief David Lark said. “I’m on it.”

By the time his crew made it back to the engine house, two relief crew members were driving into the lot. Hershel thanked them.

“Any time, Captain. You’ve covered for us many times,” one of them said.

He and Royce showered and changed quickly as if they were responding to a call. “Ready?” Royce came to his side and slapped him on the shoulder.

“Yeah,” spilled out of his mouth, but in all honesty, Hershel wasn’t sure. “Let’s go.”

“I’ll drive.”

“Good idea, because I’ll be praying,” Hershel said as he got into the passenger seat of his own vehicle.

It seemed as if every light was against them en route to Barnes Hospital in the city, stretching out the eighteen-minute ride from North County to twenty-six minutes. Hershel said one last prayer as Royce parked. When the brothers stormed inside, Julia, Trent, and Candace were huddled together. The uncertainty on their faces scared Hershel.

“How is she? Have you heard anything?” Hershel asked randomly to anyone who had answers before turning to Candace. “Did you know anything about this—Solae being home and the baby?”

Shaking her head, Candace appeared just as dazed as him as she flew into her husband’s arms and began to sob.

He needed answers. “Where are Mr. and Mrs. Wyatt-Palmer?” 

“They’re next door at Children’s Hospital,” Candace mumbled as she wiped at her tears. “I’m waiting to see Solae.”

“Do you mind if I see her first?” Hershel asked.

He sensed Candace was about to protest, but she didn’t. Considering the two were close as sisters, Hershel thought he was going to have to reason with her, but Candace consented. “O-okay.”

“Thank you.” Hershel exhaled, then began to pace the room. Solae never mentioned anything about a baby, coming home, or anything. The room held an eerie quietness as they eyed the door, waiting for someone to brief them.

Finally, a doctor of Indian descent walked in the room. Everyone gathered in a military formation.

“Is this the family of Miss Solae Wyatt-Palmer?”

“Yes,” they answered on one accord.

Introducing himself as Dr. Gaitan, he began to explain Solae’s injuries until Hershel stopped him.

“In lay person’s terms, please?”

“Miss Wyatt-Palmer has a mild concussion and a strained shoulder in addition to some minor bruises; her prognosis is good. However, we would like to observe her overnight. She will need plenty of rest…”