Baby out of the Blue

“He’ll drive us to the hospital.”

He helped Fran and the baby inside the backseat of his car. She thought he looked as white-faced as Kellie, who climbed in front. She looked back at Fran. “What do you think happened?”

“Who knows? Maybe the mother was on the street around the corner when a microburst toppled the stroller or something and this dear little thing landed in the garden.”

“But she’s only wearing a torn shirt.”

Both of them were aghast. “I agree, nothing makes sense.”

“Do you think she could have been out there all night?”

“I don’t know,” Fran’s voice trembled. “But what other explanation could there possibly be, Kellie? The baby has superficial cuts all over.”

“I’m still in shock. You don’t suppose the mother is lying around the hotel grounds somewhere, too? Maybe concussed?”

“It’s a possibility,” Fran murmured. “We know what tornadoes can do. The one in Dallas tossed truck rigs in the air like matchsticks. Sometimes I feel that’s all we see on the news back home. I just have never heard about a tornado in Greece.”

“They get them from time to time. Leandros told me they usually happen near coastal waters.”

The baby had gone so still, it was like holding a doll. “Tell Yannis to please hurry, Kellie. She’s not making any more sounds. The police need to be notified and start looking for this baby’s parents.”

Once they reached the emergency entrance, everything became a blur as the baby was rushed away. Fran wanted to go with her, but the emergency-room staff told her they needed information and showed her to the registration desk.

The man in charge told them them to be seated while he asked a lot of questions. He indicated that no one had contacted the hospital looking for a lost baby. Furthermore, no mother or father injured in the storm had been brought in. So far, only a young man whose car had skidded in the downpour and hit a building had come in for some stitches on his arm.

When the questioning was over he said, “One of our staff has already contacted the police. They’ve assured us they’ll do a thorough investigation to unite the baby with her parents. An officer should be here within the hour to take your statements. Just go into the E.R. lounge to wait, or go to the cafeteria at the end of the hall.”

When they walked out, Kellie touched Fran’s arm. “I think we’d better eat something now.”

“Agreed.”

After a quick breakfast, they returned to the E.R. lounge. “If the baby lives, it will be thanks to you and your quick thinking. Had you been even a couple of minutes later arriving at the patio the baby might not have had the strength to cry and no one would have discovered her in time.”

Hot tears trickled down Fran’s cheeks. “She has to live, Kellie, otherwise life really doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. I’ve been thinking the same thing.” They both had. Kellie had been praying to get pregnant and it had been Fran’s fate not to be able to conceive. What a pair they made! She found two seats and they sat down.

“I wish Leandros would get here. After seeing this baby, I’m worried sick for what he’s had to deal with. Lives were lost in that tornado. He’ll take their deaths seriously.”

“It’s too awful to think about. I’m still having trouble believing this has happened. When I saw her lying in those bushes, I thought I was hallucinating.”

Before long, two police officers came into the lounge to talk to them. There was still no word about the parents. After they went out again, Fran jumped up. “I can’t sit still. Let’s go into the E.R. Maybe someone at the desk can tell us if there’s been any news on the baby yet.”

Kellie got to her feet. “While you do that, I’m going outside to talk to Yannis. Maybe he’s heard from Leandros.”

Quickly, Fran hurried through the doors to the E.R. and approached one of the staff at the counter. “Could you tell me anything about the baby we brought in a little while ago?”

“You can ask Dr. Xanthis, the attending physician. He’s coming through those doors now.”

Fran needed no urging to rush toward the middle-aged doctor. “Excuse me—I’m Mrs. Myers. I understand you might be able to tell me something about the baby my friend and I brought to the hospital.” Her heart hammered in fear. “Is she going to live?”

“We won’t know for several hours,” he answered in a strong Greek accent.

“Can I see her?”

He shook his head. “Only family is allowed in the infant ICU.”

“But no one has located her family yet. She’s all alone. I found her in the bushes in the garden behind the hotel.”

“So I understand. It’s most extraordinary.”

“Couldn’t I just be in the same room with her until her parents are found?”

The man’s sharp eyes studied her for a moment. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Please?” she asked in a trembling voice.

“She’s a stranger to you.”

Fran bit her lip. “She’s a baby. I—I feel she needs someone,” her voice faltered.

All of a sudden a small smile lifted one corner of his mouth. “Come. I’ll take you to her.”

“Just a moment.” She turned to the staff person. “If my friend Mrs. Petralia comes in asking for me, please tell her I’m with the baby, but I’ll be back here in a little while.”

“Very good.”

The doctor led her through the far doors to an elevator that took them to the second floor. They walked through some other doors to the nursery area where he introduced her to a nurse. “I’ve given Kyria Myers permission to be with the baby until the police locate the mother and father. See that she is outfitted.”

“This way,” the other woman gestured as she spoke.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Xanthis.”

His brows lifted. “Thank you for being willing to help out.”

“It’s my pleasure, believe me.”

CHAPTER TWO

FRAN FOLLOWED THE NURSE to an anteroom to wash her hands. She was no stranger to a hospital, having worked in one since college to follow up on patients who needed care when they first went home.

When she’d put on a gown and mask, they left through another door that opened into the ICU. She counted three incubators with sick babies. The baby she’d found in the garden was over in one corner, hooked up to an IV. She’d been fitted with nasal prongs to deliver oxygen. A cardiopulmonary monitor on her chest tracked the heartbeat on the screen.

She was glad to see this hospital had up-to-date equipment to help the baby survive, yet the second she spied the little form lying on her back, so still and helpless, she had to stifle her cry of pain. The precious child had cuts everywhere, even into her black curls, but they’d been treated. Mercifully none of them were deep or required stitches. With the dirt washed away, they stood out clearly.

The nurse pulled a chair over so Fran could sit next to the incubator. “Everyone hopes she will wake up. You can reach in and touch her arm, talk to her. I’ll be back.”

Finally alone with the baby, Fran studied the beautiful features and profile. She was perfectly formed, and to all appearances had been healthy before this terrible thing had happened to her. All the cuts and hookups couldn’t disguise her amazingly long black eyelashes or the sweetness of her sculpted lips.