Grandma Kathy
On the day of her husband's funeral, Kathy Millar took the wedding picture down from the fireplace mantel, removed it from the frame and tossed it in the fire.
"Good riddance!" she mumbled.
Given her reaction, it's obvious hers was not a happy marriage. What did she expect? She had not loved Barney. She only married him because, at twenty-eight, she feared she was destined to be an old maid. Nowadays, unmarried women are no longer looked down upon as spinsters. There were even those who chose to remain single.
"Many women actually prefer to live on their own. If they've got good jobs, they can buy their own homes. Since our insurance paid off the mortgage, now that Barney is dead, I'll inherit the house free and clear."
It was the best thing her late husband had ever done for her, as far as she was concerned. No, that's not true. It was the second-best thing he had done. The first was to father their only child, their daughter, Tara. From the day the infant emerged from her womb, Kathy focused all her love and attention on her child.
The widow smiled, recalling the number of people who came up to her that day with the same sage advice: Take heart. Your husband is gone, but you've got your child to care for.
"Fools! Did they fear I would be so overcome with grief over losing Barney that I'd kill myself! Tara has and always will come first."
She turned away from the fire and went upstairs to her bedroom. Seeing her husband's clothes hanging in his half of the walk-in closet reminded her of the work that lay ahead in the next week. Boxing up all Barney's belongings would be time-consuming but far from emotionally draining.
In her best Scarlett O'Hara impersonation, she declared, "I won't think about that today. I'll think about it tomorrow."
Kathy kicked off her heels, removed the black dress and put on a comfortable robe and slippers. Then she went into Tara's room. The child was sleeping peacefully, unaware that "Dada" had been laid to rest. She doubted the three-year-old would remember her father.
"That's okay. She's got her mother. I'm all she needs, and she is all I need."
After seven years of a loveless marriage, she had no intention of dating, much less walking down the aisle again.
For the next two years, she worked from home, and when Tara started school, she got a job in the school cafeteria so that her hours would allow her to be home when her daughter was. Unlike other working mothers, she would not put her child in daycare, nor would she condone her becoming a latchkey kid when she reached adolescence.
"I'm her mother. I will always be there when she needs me," she vowed.
During the years that followed, Kathy kept her promise. Her life revolved around her daughter. She took a keen interest not only in her schoolwork but also in her social activities. She helped the girl with her homework, arranged playdates for her, volunteered to lead her Girl Scout troop, offered to chaperone school trips and chauffeured her to dance class, gymnastics, music lessons and softball practice.
They became more than mother and daughter; they became best friends. Where most teenagers socialized with their classmates, Tara spent most of her free time with her mother. They went to the movies and shopping together. They enjoyed spending time at the beach, museums, concerts and theme parks. When she graduated from college, the day excursions she had taken with her mother became actual vacations. Sometimes they took road trips, but more often elected to travel in groups sponsored by a travel agency. By the time Katy reached retirement age, mother and daughter had traveled to most of the countries in Europe, Mexico, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Japan.
* * *
It has often been said that time flies when you're having fun. That was certainly true in Kathy Millar's case. It seemed as though one day her daughter was a teenager graduating from high school, and suddenly, she was celebrating her thirtieth. The two of them celebrated the occasion in London. After dinner at the Sherlock Holmes pub, they rode the London Eye, enjoying the spectacular view of the city.
"People always rave about Paris," she mused, gazing down at the Thames, "but I'd take London any day!"
"Paris is a beautiful city, too," Tara opined. "The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, Versailles ...."
"No. The palace is located in the city of Versailles. Don't you remember? It took us about forty-five minutes to get there from Paris."
"You're right, but there's a lot to do in Paris, including Montmartre and the Left Bank."
"And London has Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, St. Paul's Cathedral, Westminster Abbey ...."
"Okay, Mom. I get it. You're an anglophile."
"And you're a Francophile," Kathy countered.
"You've got to admit Paris has always had the reputation for being romantic."
"Except for that whole guillotining their king and queen bit."
"As I recall, London beheaded Charles I in front of the Banqueting House."
"Touché! I should know better than to argue with you."
Tara fell silent. She stared out the glass of the gondola in the direction of Greenwich with a wistful expression on her face. Her mother wondered at times if she were dreaming of another life. Maybe it was not enough to be a daughter. Maybe she wanted more.
The answer to that question came six years later. Kathy was seventy-one, and Tara was thirty-six when, seemingly out of the blue, Ben Feldon walked into her daughter's life. At first, it seemed destined to be one or two dates. After all, the young woman had not shown much interest in any other suitor.
"So, where's our next trip to be?" Kathy asked when they returned from their latest vacation, a transatlantic cruise to Iceland. "You were thinking about France or Germany, weren't you?"
"I'm not sure, Mom. Ben and I might want to go to Mexico instead."
"Ben Feldon? I wasn't aware things had gotten so serious between you two. It's only been a few dates, and you're talking about vacationing together?"
"A few dates?" Tara laughed. "We've been seeing each other for several months now. In fact, we've talked about moving in together."
People would think Kathy was foolish for not having expected that one day her baby chick would leave the nest, but the news took her by complete surprise. When her daughter turned thirty, she had wondered if Tara would remain single. With each passing year, it seemed more likely. She had never imagined that at thirty-six, the young woman would finally strike out on her own.
I suppose I ought to be happy for her, the mother brooded. She should have a husband and a home of her own. God knows I won't live forever. I'd had to see her live the rest of her life alone. What's that old saying? I'm not losing a daughter; I'm gaining a son.
That old saying failed to comfort her. She was not gaining a son! She was losing a daughter, her best friend.
By the time the diamond engagement ring was on her daughter's finger, Kathy accepted the inevitable. One consolation was that Ben was a good man who seemed to love her daughter almost as much as she did. Almost. That was the keyword. But then no one could ever love Tara as much as the person who gave birth to her. A mother's love was complete, undemanding, unselfish and eternal. At least Kathy's was.
The mother of the bride smiled when she walked her daughter down the aisle.
I'm not actually giving her away, she mused sadly. I prefer to think I'm lending her to Ben. I'll always be a major part of her life. And if the marriage doesn't work out, I'll welcome her home with open arms.
Vowing to accept whatever limited role she would have in Tara's life, she thus made it through the ceremony and reception without shedding a tear.
* * *
A month after the newlyweds returned from their Caribbean honeymoon, Tara phoned her mother with unexpected but welcome news. She was pregnant. Given their ages, it was not surprising that the couple chose not to wait to start a family.
"I'm so happy for you!" Kathy joyfully exclaimed.
"I knew you would be."
While the jaunts through Europe that she and her daughter had planned before Ben Feldon entered their lives would never happen, Kathy looked forward to being a grandmother.
She made herself a cup of hot chocolate and reminisced about Tara's childhood, the day trips to the beach, the zoo, the aquarium, Santa's North Pole, Fairy Tale Forest, Land of Enchantment and Wild West World. One day, she could revisit them with her grandchild. There would be birthday parties, Easter egg hunts, trick or treating, Thanksgiving dinners and all the Christmas season events. And, of course, the milestones in a child's life: the first word, first step, first tooth and first day of school.
I want to share it all!
The one cloud on the otherwise sunny horizon was her age. At seventy-one, she was not sure how many more years she would have. Would she still be alive when her grandchild started school?
Both my parents died in their eighties. If I live as long as they did, I'll have another ten or fifteen years left, maybe more.
Kathy's happiness at becoming a grandma was compounded when Tara told her that the child she carried was a girl.
"My baby girl is having a baby girl! How perfect!"
And to think, I was sad when she got engaged.
When Kathy got the call from her son-in-law that Tara was in labor, she dropped what she was doing and hurried to the hospital. Because she lived so close, she made it there before the Feldons did.
"It could be hours before Haley is born," Ben pointed out. "Are you sure you don't want to go home and wait there? I'll phone you as soon as they take Tara to the delivery room."
"No. I'll stay in the waiting room. I brought something to read with me," she claimed, taking her Kindle out of her handbag.
"All right, but we won't be offended if you decide to leave."
The fact that neither he nor her daughter had invited Kathy to join them in the labor room still rankled, but she told herself her presence was not needed. Besides, having been through the birthing experience herself, she did not want to see her daughter suffer contractions for what could be several hours.
Let Ben give her the ice chips. I'll sit here and read.
Three hours into her vigil, she went to the cafeteria for coffee. Her next stop was the gift shop, where she bought a pink teddy bear and a balloon proclaiming "It's a Girl." When she went back to the waiting room, the nurse informed her that Tara was still in labor. Kathy sat down and waited. And waited. Finally, after nine hours had passed, she heard "Brahms' Lullaby" being played over the hospital's public address system, indicating that a baby had been born. It was forty minutes later when Ben brought her the good news.
"Tara and Haley are both doing fine," he beamed. "I've got to get back. When they bring Tara to her room, the nurse will come and get you."
"I'm a grandmother!" she whispered to an empty room.
* * *
Thank heaven for little girls. Truer words were never written. At first sight of her beautiful, blond granddaughter, Kathy lost my heart. When she held the baby in her arms and smelled that scent of an infant every mother recognizes, she nearly wept with joy.
"Being a new mother can be quite daunting," she told her daughter. "I'll come and stay with you for a few days to help out."
"We appreciate the offer," Ben thanked her, "but you really don't have to put yourself out."
"Nonsense! I don't mind; I want to. I can help with the housework, laundry and cooking, so Tara can take it easy."
"I'll be on family leave. I can do all that. Don't worry. Mother and daughter will be in good hands."
Speechless, Kathy stared at her son-in-law. She could not believe that her offer of assistance had been rejected.
As if adding insult to injury, ten minutes later, Ben took the baby from her arms and suggested, "Maybe you ought to let Tara get some rest. You can come and visit again tomorrow."
How dare he! she fumed, riding the hospital elevator to the ground floor. I waited for more than nine hours for the baby to be born, only to have my visit with her cut short.
Kathy hoped that when she returned to the hospital the next day, her son-in-law would not be there. Sadly, that was not the case. She entered her daughter's room to find him sitting in the visitors' chair, holding Haley. The grandmother, who had her arms filled with presents for the newborn, put the packages on the floor and stood at Tara's bedside.
"What's all that?" Ben asked.
"Gifts for the baby."
"Perhaps you should take them back with you and bring them to the house when you visit instead. After all, we're going to have our hands full bringing the baby home."
She turned her attention to her daughter, who was still weak from the difficult birth.
"Aren't you at least going to open them?"
"Sure, Mom."
Her husband continued to hold their child as the new mother unwrapped each gift.
"A doll? Really?" he laughed. "Isn't she a little young to play with that?"
"You can put it away for her."
"Fine, but it might be best if you keep it at your house until she's old enough to play with it. What with the crib, bassinet, changing table, baby swing, stroller, playpen, rocking chair and infant bathtub, the nursery is crowded enough. And then there's the high chair and activity center we got at the baby shower. We simply don't have room for that many toys."
Now, my gifts are being rejected.
"Mind if I hold her?" I asked, hoping the feel of the infant in my arms would calm my irritation.
"She's sound asleep. I don't want to wake her up."
The grandmother patiently waited for more than an hour. Then the nurse came in, announcing it was time for the babies to go back to the nursery. Without looking in his mother-in-law's direction, Ben placed the sleeping infant into the wheeled plastic bassinet. Kathy looked longingly at the child as she was whisked away. She considered remaining in the hospital room until the babies were brought out again, but thought better of it. Tara needed her rest.
"I guess I'll get going. Maybe I'll come back this evening."
"Oh, better not," her son-in-law said. "The hospital has a tradition of providing a meal for new parents in the solarium."
"They still do that?" Kathy inquired, remembering the candlelit dinner they provided for her and Barney when Tara was born.
"Yes. We're looking forward to our dinner tonight."
"It won't last that long. I can stop by later."
"I think Tara should get to sleep early. After all, she and the baby will be released tomorrow."
"My offer to help still stands."
"Thanks, but, as I said, I'll be home."
Clearly, I'm being dismissed. It's as though I'm someone of no consequence. Damn it! I'm Haley's grandmother!
* * *
In the week after Tara and Haley came home from the hospital, Kathy saw her granddaughter only twice. Ben denied all other efforts to visit for some lame excuse or another. Finally, she showed up unannounced on Friday afternoon.
"Mrs. Millar," he grumbled when he saw her standing on the front stoop. (He never called her Mom or Mother.) "What are you doing here?"
"You have to ask?" she laughed, feeling more resentment than humor. "I'm here to see the baby."
"She's taking a nap."
"That's okay. I'll wait until she wakes up. Besides, I want to see how Tara is feeling."
Ben remained in the doorway, blocking his mother-in-law's entrance.
"She's fine and so is Haley."
"Are you going to let me inside, or must I wait here on the doorstep?"
"I'm sorry, but my parents are due to arrive soon. They haven't seen the baby yet."
"So? Surely, they won't object to my being here, too."
"Look," he sighed, "maybe you and I ought to talk. There's something I'd like to get straight."
Kathy objected not only to his words but to his attitude as well.
"I always thought you and my wife were far too close."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You were too possessive," he explained bluntly. "I can't let you monopolize Haley's time like you did your own daughter's."
Tears came to Kathy's eyes, but no words passed her lips.
"I'm afraid that I'll have to set limits on your visits. Two times a week seems fair."
"You can't be serious! And what does Tara have to say about that?"
"We haven't discussed it yet, but I'm sure she'll agree. She's still not feeling good."
Kathy was about to argue further, to demand to speak with her daughter, when the senior Feldons' Toyota Highlander pulled into the driveway.
"Hello, Kathy," Enid Feldon, Ben's mother, greeted her with a lukewarm smile.
She always was a cold fish, that one.
Her husband, Alton, who was taking several shopping bags out of the trunk, simply nodded his head.
"Hello. Gifts for the baby?" Grandma Kathy inquired.
"Naturally. I intend to spoil my grandchild," Enid answered smugly.
Kathy turned to her son-in-law, waiting for him to tell his mother that there was no room in the nursery for toys, but Ben made no such comments.
* * *
Tara, who had not felt well since the last trimester of her pregnancy, was diagnosed with breast cancer before Haley was two months old. Despite a mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation treatments, the young mother succumbed to the disease two weeks after the little girl's first birthday.
After the graveside service, the mourners returned to the Feldon home. Rather than join everyone else around the food-laden dining room table, the heartbroken mother went up to Enid Feldon, who had watched the child during the funeral, and took Haley from her arms. Tears streaming down her face, she covered the tiny cheeks and head with kisses.
She looks so much like Tara did when she was a baby.
"Your mommy loved you so much," she whispered.
Ben frowned but did not attempt to take the little girl away from her.
"I'll make sure she knows that," he said softly.
"Now that Tara is ... gone ..." Kathy nearly choked on the word, "you'll need someone to help you look after Haley. I don't live that far ...."
"Thank you," he cut her off, "but my mother has agreed to watch her while I'm at work."
If it were physically possible for someone to die of a broken heart, Kathy Millar would have dropped dead then and there. Instead, she sobbed like a baby.
"Please don't shut me out of her life. I just lost Tara. I need my granddaughter."
"I'm not taking her away from you. You can still see her two days a week."
"How can you be so heartless?" she cried.
Enid stepped in to defend her son.
"He's not heartless! You lost your daughter, but don't forget he lost his wife."
Kathy said nothing to Enid since she could not fault a mother for loving her son. But she did not feel any sympathy for Ben. As far as she was concerned, he was the one who had kept her from not only her granddaughter but also her dying daughter. Once her health began to deteriorate, he stood between them.
"Mom," he said, addressing Enid, "I think it's time for Haley's nap."
It did Kathy no good to volunteer to bring the child up to the nursery, for Ben delegated the responsibility to his mother. Once Nana Enid took possession of the little girl and carried her upstairs to the nursery, Kathy left her daughter's house, preferring to mourn her loss alone.
* * *
With Enid Feldon in charge of watching Haley, Kathy was given a schedule to visit her granddaughter: Tuesday and Friday afternoons, from one to four o'clock. Four hours a day, eight hours a week. If she arrived early, she was left on the doorstep. Enid always made some excuse as to why she had not answered the door sooner. Sometimes she claimed to be vacuuming and had not heard the doorbell. Occasionally, she had been in the attic or cellar. More often, she stated she was on the telephone. As for remaining beyond four o'clock, this was not allowed since Haley was kept to a strict naptime.
The biweekly visits to her granddaughter had unforeseen consequences. Being in the Feldons' house, seeing their wedding portrait above the fireplace, sitting on the chairs and sofa Tara picked out and drinking coffee from cups her daughter received at the bridal shower were a constant reminder of her death. If that weren't bad enough, each time she visited her granddaughter, the child looked more and more like her mother.
She looks nothing at all like Ben.
It pained her that she could only see the baby twice a week, but it was devastating to be reminded that she would never see her daughter again. When she looked up at the photo of the bride, her face full of hope for the future, she was bombarded by memories of Tara.
Where did that time go?
It broke Kathy's heart to know that Tara would never make fond memories with her child.
It's not fair! If anyone had to die, why wasn't it me? I've had a good, long life. But my little girl had so much to live for!
At four o'clock, Enid swept Haley into her arms, saying, "It's nap time."
Grandma Kathy, inconsolable, nodded her head.
"I'll see you next Tuesday."
On her way out the door, she ran into Ben.
"You're home early," she observed. "Things slow at the office?"
"No. I left at three."
Kathy was opening the driver's door of her Subaru Forester when her son-in-law, still standing on his front steps, called to her.
"You'll hear about it sooner or later, so I might as well tell you now."
The grim look on his face forecasted bad news.
Don't tell me he's going to cut my visits down to one a week.
"I'm dating someone."
"What! But you just lost your wife!"
"Hardly. Tara died seven months ago."
"A respectable mourning period is one year."
"This isn't the Victorian Era," he laughed.
"Still ...."
"My love life is not open to debate. I've found a nice woman, and I intend to date her. End of discussion."
Kathy shrugged her shoulders. Frankly, she did not care about Ben or his love life. If anything, she pitied the woman who would have to deal with him.
* * *
Not long after Haley turned two, her father married Jonelle Orwin. Along with a new wife came a second mother-in-law.
Whether Kathy could rightfully claim that title now or not, one thing was certain. She was still Haley's grandmother. So, unfortunately, was Enid. What Grandma Kathy had not expected was Jonelle's mother, Maxine, swooping in and claiming that same honor.
"How is my little grandbaby?" she cooed, patting the child on the head as though she were a pet dog. "Come here and give Granny Maxine a kiss."
"Haley already has two grandmothers," Kathy declared.
"Isn't she lucky then? Because now she'll have three."
Like Enid, Maxine Orwin could visit whenever and how often she chose to. Only Kathy had to abide by the two-visit-per-week restriction. Perhaps now that he was remarried, she hoped, he would ease up on the rule. When she approached Ben about a third visit each week, he held firm.
"Twice a week is enough," he insisted. "Especially now that Jonelle's mother is going to share babysitting duties with my mother."
"What?"
"Haley will be with my mother on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays and with Maxine on Mondays and Thursdays."
"Why can't I babysit her one of those days? I'm her maternal grandmother. Maxine is no relation at all."
"For now, Jonelle is Haley's stepmother, making her mother a step-grandmother. And after the adoption goes through ...."
"Adoption!"
"Yes. Jonelle is adopting Haley."
"She can't!"
"It's already in the works. Tara is dead. I've accepted it and moved on. I suggest you do the same."
"Never! Tara was my daughter, and Haley is my granddaughter. No court can change that."
"It doesn't matter. By this time next year, we'll be living in Seattle anyway. So, unless you're willing to leave New Jersey and relocate to the West Coast, you won't be seeing much of your granddaughter anymore."
After consulting a lawyer, Kathy realized she had no legal recourse to stop the adoption.
"So, grandparents don't have any rights at all? Is that what you're telling me?" she cried. "That Ben can stop me from seeing Haley."
"Not exactly," the attorney explained. "In New Jersey, a court may grant visitation rights to a grandparent if visitation is deemed to be in the child's best interest. Unfortunately, adoption cuts off all grandparental rights."
Determined not to lose her granddaughter, she decided to take the law into her own hands.
* * *
"It's Friday already?" Enid whined when Kathy appeared on the doorstep promptly at one o'clock. "Come on in."
There was no welcome in her voice, but then there never was. She had always treated Kathy like a door-to-door salesperson or a proselytizing Jehovah's Witness.
"I stopped at the bakery on the way over," the maternal grandmother said, producing a white box tied with red string. "I had a craving for crumb cake."
Enid's initial response was to refuse the treat since she did not want to encourage a friendship with Tara's mother. But one look at the thick layer of streusel atop the cake changed her mind.
"Smells good," she admitted.
"Why don't I make us some tea to go with it?" Kathy offered and grabbed the kettle from the stove. "While I put the water on, why don't you go up and get Haley?"
"All right. I'll change her and bring her downstairs."
When the kettle started to whistle, Kathy called up the stairs, "How do you take your tea?"
"Milk and sugar."
A smile spread on Granda Kathy's face.
"That crumb cake was delicious!" Enid exclaimed.
"Why don't you finish the last piece?"
"No. I couldn't."
"I don't want any more. And it would be a shame to let it go stale."
"Maybe Ben and Jonelle will want it."
"There's not enough there for two people."
"Well, if you insist," Nana Enid laughed.
"Another cup of tea?"
"Yes. Thank you."
With her back to the table, Kathy opened up another sleeping capsule and spilled the contents into the teacup. After adding sugar and milk, she gave the drink to Enid.
Now, I'll go play with my granddaughter and wait.
* * *
Jonelle arrived home before Ben. When she opened the front door, she found Enid asleep on the living room sofa.
"Is Haley still taking a nap?" she inquired, waking her mother-in-law.
"W-what?" Enid asked groggily.
"Is the baby still sleeping? She's usually up when I get home."
"What time is it? I was just having tea with ...." The paternal grandmother's eyes opened wide, realizing the lateness of the hour. "Oh, my God! Is she still here?"
She rose from the couch and ran upstairs to the nursery. She screamed when she saw the empty crib.
The front door opened, and Enid prayed it was Grandma Kathy, returning to the house with the baby. However, it was Ben coming home from work.
"What's going on?" he wondered when he saw the look of fear on his wife's and mother-in-law's faces.
"It's your former mother-in-law," Jonelle answered. "It seems as if she's kidnapped Haley."
The Feldons immediately contacted the police, and when they ascertained that Kathy Millar had indeed kidnapped her granddaughter, an Amber Alert was immediately issued, and the FBI was called in.
"Your mother-in-law ...," Special Agent Bradley Tannen began.
"Former mother-in-law," Ben corrected him.
"She withdrew all the money from her bank accounts. We found her car abandoned at Newark Airport. It's clear that she's on the run."
"She's seventy-three years old. I doubt she can go very far."
"You'd be surprised. My mother is about that age, and she runs two miles a day, rain or shine."
"With a two-year-old in tow?"
"No," Bradley conceded. "We've sent photos of your daughter to law enforcement agencies around the country. State and local police will be on the lookout for her. It would have helped if you had given us a recent picture of Mrs. Millar."
"I don't have any. It never occurred to me that I would need one."
None of the airlines flying out of Newark Liberty International Airport reported a passenger by the name of Millar. Furthermore, all toddlers were accompanied by their parents. Haley was not among them.
"She didn't rent a car," Bradley informed the father. "She would have needed to use a credit card to do so, and her bank would have notified us."
"How did she get away then?" Ben inquired.
"Bus. Taxi. Train. Uber. Take your pick. All of them accept cash payments, and none of them ask for a form of identification. We've faxed your daughter's picture and a description of Mrs. Millar to all major transportation hubs, but we've had no luck so far."
A month went by. Then another and another. No one reported seeing the missing girl or her abductor. The months turned to years. During that time, Ben's second marriage crumbled under the weight of the tragedy. Enid Feldon, racked with guilt that Haley had been taken when she was supposed to be watching her, became an alcoholic and ultimately drove her car into a telephone pole at sixty miles an hour.
Every year on the anniversary of the kidnapping, an FBI agent created an age progression photograph of Haley. To the distraught father, it was the closest he would come to seeing his little girl grow up.
On what would have been his daughter's tenth birthday, Ben, now divorced from Jonelle, bought a birthday cake and placed ten candles on it. He realized his former mother-in-law would be in her eighties. Was she still alive? If not, what might have happened to Haley? It had never occurred to him that had he not curtailed Kathy's visits with her granddaughter, she might not have taken such drastic action.
He cut into the cake and took a bite. It was vanilla cake with strawberry and custard filling, topped with whipped cream. He supposed a little girl would like the flavors, but he wasn't sure. Maybe she would have preferred chocolate.
Ben was about to throw the rest of the cake in the trash when he heard a knock on the door.
"I haven't seen you in a while," he told Special Agent Tannen. "What's up? Have you received another tip that will send you off on a wild goose chase?"
"A teacher in Savannah was viewing the website for the Center for Missing and Exploited Children and saw Haley's picture. She says it looks exactly like one of her students. A girl named Kathy. The same as your wife's mother."
"So? It's not an uncommon name."
"An agent from our Savannah field office checked it out. The girl looks incredibly like the age progression photo."
"Does she have parents?"
"She's being brought up by a single mom."
"Not a grandmother?"
"No."
Bradley reached into his pocket and took out a photograph.
"Does this woman look familiar to you?" he inquired.
"She resembles my former mother-in-law, but this woman can't be any older than her mid-thirties."
"You told us your wife was an only child, but did she have any cousins or other close relatives around the same age?"
"I don't know. She and her mother were extremely close, but she never talked about her family much, not even her father."
"We're working on the theory that Mrs. Millar either died or is too sick to raise a child. In such a case, she would ask another family member to take on the responsibility."
"Did you check the woman out?"
"Yes, but we haven't been able to find anything on her. I'm telling you this now because I want to get a DNA swab. That will confirm the little girl's identity one way or another."
* * *
Special Agent Tannen sat drinking coffee at Starbucks with local agent Riva Minnick. They were promised the results of the DNA test by early afternoon.
"How long have you been on this case?" Riva asked.
"Eight years. The little girl was only two when she was kidnapped."
"Why would a grandmother take her own grandchild?"
"Her daughter died, the husband remarried and the new wife wanted to adopt the granddaughter."
"I'm sure they wouldn't stop her from seeing her grandchild."
"They planned on moving to Seattle. Too far for a senior citizen from New Jersey to travel."
When Bradley received a text from the lab, he downed the rest of his coffee, got up from the table and tossed his empty cup in the trash.
"The girl in Savannah is a definite match for Ben Feldon," the technician informed him.
"Finally! I was beginning to think we'd never find her."
"I also got a positive match on the DNA from Haley Feldon's grandmother, Kathy Millar."
"How on earth did you get her DNA?" Bradley wondered.
"An ancestry website."
Before Bradley Tannen could deliver the good news to the girl's father, Ben Feldon was killed in a one-car accident on Interstate 80.
Now what is to become of Haley? the FBI agent wondered.
* * *
"Why are we here?" the woman, who went by the name of Mary McCovey, asked, grasping her daughter's hand. "What does the FBI want with us? We've done nothing wrong."
"In every case, there are always loose ends to tie up," Special Agent Tannen sighed.
"Case? What case is that?"
"Eight years ago, a two-year-old girl named Haley Feldon was kidnapped from her home in New Jersey."
"What has that got to do with us?"
"Ms. McCovey, we know your daughter, Kathy, is really Haley. Don't bother denying it. We got her DNA from a cup she used at the school cafeteria, and it's a match with Haley's father and her grandmother, Kathy Millar."
"That's impossible! Kathy is my daughter. Take my DNA and test it; you'll see. I didn't kidnap anyone."
"We know you didn't take her. Her grandmother did. By the way, what has become of her? Is she still alive?"
Suddenly, all pretense was dropped. Heartbreak was etched across Mary's face.
"No," she answered, her throat constricted with emotion. "She's gone."
"She's dead, you mean?"
Mary nodded.
"Why did she give you the child to raise?"
"Because she is my daughter."
"Come off it! You already admitted to knowing Kathy Millar."
"Of course, I knew her. She was my mother."
"Bullshit!" the FBI agent shouted, losing his patience and his temper. "Kathy Millar's daughter died eight years ago."
The woman calmly repeated, "Take my DNA. You might be surprised at what you find."
Bradley Tannen agreed to the test, believing science would prove beyond a doubt that the woman's story was a pack of lies. Three days later, the results came back.
"I told you so," Ms. McCovey said when the agent showed up at her house, demanding answers.
"Did Kathy Millar have another daughter?"
"No. I was an only child."
"But Tara Feldon died! I've seen the death certificate. I've been to the cemetery and seen her grave."
"My mother and I were extremely close," Tara-now-Mary explained. "When I ... passed away, she was shattered. My husband didn't help matters. He tried to limit her contact with our daughter. Then he remarried and wanted to move to the West Coast. My mother felt she had nothing left to live for. I don't know how she did it, but she gave her life for mine. She died, and I was somehow brought back."
"You expect me to believe this Twilight Zone crap?" Bradley cried. "Dead is dead."
"You've got the scientific proof in your hands," she insisted, nodding at the DNA results.
"I'll prove you're wrong. I'll have Tara's body exhumed."
"Go ahead. I'm curious as to what you'll find."
* * *
Special Agent Tannen stood beside the New Jersey police detective as the coffin was hoisted out of the ground.
"What are you expecting to find?" Detective Clarence Hunley wondered.
"I don't know. I'm hoping the casket is empty."
It would be the only logical explanation as to how the allegedly deceased woman's DNA was an exact match to Mary McCovey's in Savannah, Georgia.
When the lid of the coffin was pried open, he was surprised to find a body inside.
"I'm no pathologist," Hunley said, "but that's not the remains of a woman in her thirties. She looks to be in her seventies, at least."
Bradley, his face having lost all color, cast his eyes away from the terrifying sight.
"I suppose you'll want her transported to the lab for identification," the detective surmised.
The FBI agent shook his head.
"Put her back in the ground," he muttered.
"But ...."
"The kidnapped girl was found alive and well. Case closed."
"Don't you want to know who the woman buried in this grave is?"
"No. I don't."
Special Agent Tannen turned and walked away. Having graduated summa cum laude from Princeton University, he prided himself on his intelligence and common sense. He had no intentions of delving into the X-Files world of Agents Scully and Mulder; he preferred the non-supernatural Inspector Lewis Erskine version of the FBI. Confirming that the corpse buried in Tara Feldon's grave belonged to Grandma Kathy Millar would only serve to shatter his faith in logic and science.
Salem agrees with Kathy that London is nicer than Paris, mainly because he loves to order fish and chips when he's there.
