Claire yawned, already tired and barely halfway through her shift.
She made a few final notations in the last chart from her rounds and sat back in her chair at the nurse's station. It felt nice to be off her feet for a few moments as she waited for her Attending to finish up across the hall. Thankfully, she had a surgery in the afternoon and that always invigorated her. Every time she stepped into the O.R., it excited her, especially knowing how close she'd come to walking away by necessity.
Three months in and counting, she'd made this new life work for her. She might even say she'd gotten things down to a good routine:
Get up, get herself and Sam ready for the day, drop him off at daycare …
Do her regular shift in the hopes that an interesting surgery would come her way …
Pick up Sam at the end of the day, dinner, playtime, bath-time, bedtime, collapse in a heap …
And repeat.
She didn't mind the monotony. And she continued to marvel at the friends who'd stop by to keep things lively – her co-workers at the hospital, sometimes Dash bearing a new toy, or one of her mom's old friends who'd surround Sam with music. She liked to think she was creating normalcy for Sam who by all observations seemed healthy and happy. More and more of his little personality came out every day and she loved seeing the new signs of his baby humor – or his temper. He'd even begun to sing little tunes to himself in the morning if he woke up before her lest she forget that he's his mother's son.
He'd started to produce other little sounds,too. Pretty much the only distinct sound he'd make these days sounded like "see." Claire loved hearing him testing out his voice, though, she knew exactly who to blame for his learning that particular sound.
Neil. AKA, his favorite grown-up friend and the only other person Sam recognized besides her.
It'd started as a joke. She'd fallen into giving Neil orders when he'd stop by to check on them. 'Don't forget his stuffed turtle' or 'Could you grab his blanket from his crib' or 'Maybe put a couple of extra diapers in his bag.'
This turned into him making nerdy Star Trek references about her bossy side and calling her Captain Claire of the U.S.S. Sammy – C.C. for short. He'd coo to Sammy about how C.C. is so demanding or that he'd better hurry up or C.C. would come looking for them. He'd raise Sammy up over his head and walk him around to imitate a spaceship flying, which usually made the baby giggle.
Or maybe it came from Neil's stream of Spanish chatter he'd use with Sammy, often punctuated with an emphatic 'si' for emphasis. Claire rather liked that, and she made it a point to listen in whenever she could to brush up on her own Spanish proficiency.
Whatever the theory, she'd squarely put the fault on Neil. He knew it and didn't feel an ounce of shame about it either judging by the smug look he'd give her whenever he heard Sam repeat that sound over and over.
Though, if anything could turn Neil into a total softie, it was how excited Sam would get to see him at bath time. It became the boys' regular date these days, at least twice a week. He associated Neil with water ever since that day they'd gone to the beach together. As she'd predicted, Sam had loved the beach with all the sand and sound and sunshine. They sat with him in the surf and he'd been both fascinated and excited to see the waves come in and tickle his feet. He'd kicked into the water and never seemed to get bored with it, sitting contently in Neil's or Claire's laps. Eventually, he'd nodded off for a nap as Claire and Neil chatted quietly.
'This is nice, isn't it?' Neil said. 'I don't do things like this enough.'
'You mean get wrangled into chauffeuring your friends and their babies around?'
Neil chuckled, careful of the baby sleeping in his arms. 'Well, it's not the first scenario that would have come to mind six months ago.' He'd paused then, looked a little wistful. 'I meant more just getting away in general. Taking off in my car and going somewhere … else.'
'I know what you mean,' Claire replied. 'We get so caught in our routines. It's hard to break away. I hadn't been out here in ages either.' She took a moment to contemplate the moment herself. The calm, the quiet. The way time seemed to gently pass through the afternoon rather than the usual feeling of racing frantically across the day. 'Yeah, it is nice,' she finally responded. Turning to him, she smiled and felt him return the gesture. 'Thanks for coming with us.'
The three of them continued to sit there for a while soaking up one of the last days of nice weather before it got too cold to be out like that. Neil had worn his swim trunks and a light t-shirt that Claire found quite attractive on him. He looked casual and rustic in a way she didn't usually associate with his crisp suits or even his workout gear. His hair was tousled by the ocean breeze and moisture in the air. His stylish sunglasses gave him a different vibe of coolness than usual.
She, on the other hand, had been her usual single-parent dishevelment, hair in a messy ponytail, clothes spotted with sand and baby formula and patches of moisture from both the ocean water and Sam's lunch. And even though she'd worn her own swim shorts and matching swim tank underneath an oversized t-shirt, she'd hardly gotten in the water for minding Sam. Though it's not like she'd have been better off parading around in a bikini in front of her former boss. At least she'd managed to sneak out and get a pedicure over lunch to look a little presentable.
Of course, she was being silly. He probably hadn't even noticed any of that. He really only had eyes for Sam. And she enjoyed his company as a side effect.
Watching them together, she remembered that night during her first year when she and Neil had hunkered down in a conference room worrying about a difficult surgery on the two vibrant twins they'd met earlier in the day. It'd served as a distraction for both of them from the mess of their personal lives. Claire had still been shaken by Coyle's assault while managing her feelings about Jared's reaction and subsequent firing. Neil had actually been really nice as they'd scrubbed into their earlier surgery, apologizing for seeming as if he hadn't taken the situation – and her feelings – seriously enough. It had helped.
Neil had been reeling from his ex-fiancée's admission that she didn't want to have children. Drowning himself in his work seemed the best way to deal with it. He'd been the first to drift off into his own thoughts, awkwardly questioning her about wanting kids. Claire recalled the look in his eyes, the immediate joy in his expression at the idea of future little Melendezes running around. It'd been shocking but sweet to see that side to him. She'd thought she'd given him good advice that night, but clearly not good enough since he and Jessica Preston broke up soon after.
She and Neil hadn't always gotten along and sometimes she thought maybe he hadn't liked her much. But that night, something had changed with them.
Although Claire believed Neil liked spending time with her as her friend and mentor, she worried about whether she relied on him too much. She wondered if someone would consider her taking advantage of him, of that desire she knew simmered in him to have children of his own. He did so many things for her and Sam, and she needed the help so she'd take him up on his offers to lend a hand. Yet, she never wanted him to think that she was using him.
And there was a sense of self-preservation as well. One day he'd find someone to build a life with and have a family of his own. Maybe he wouldn't want to be a part of her and Sam's world in the same way after that.
For now, though, Sam served as the main draw of Neil's interest. Through him and all her other friends, she'd found a balance she'd never imagined after her mother's accident. Once again, she thought of how much she had to be thankful for.
So lost in thought, she didn't notice the footsteps that approached behind her.
"Dr. Browne," she heard at her shoulder as Dr. Barnes walked over with his tablet. "I just got a page that our surgery has been bumped up. You think you could get things started? I'll join you as soon as I sign off on this morning's charts."
"Sure," Claire said, glad for something to get her adrenaline going and shake off her lethargy. She handed her charts to him and headed down the hall to get all the necessary files for pre-surgery protocols. She'd only made it as far as the exit when she received a page from the downstairs reception. Curious as to what it could be about, she immediately returned the call.
"This is Dr. Browne," she said, recognizing the grumpy Mr. Nighly who worked the morning shift.
"Browne, there's someone here looking for you. Says it's official business." His gruff voice signaled his usual put-upon attitude as if it wasn't his job to field these kinds of requests.
"I'm about to head into surgery, it's going to have to wait. Can you just take a message?"
Nighly scoffed. "It if was that easy you think I wouldn't have done it already?" Claire rolled her eyes. "He says it's something about your mother. I didn't get the details because it's none of my business." Or the hospital's business she's sure he wanted to add.
"If it's about my mom then it can definitely wait. Tell whoever it is that they can leave a message or wait for me to get out of surgery. Makes no difference to me."
Sighing, Nighly agreed. "Whatever. I'll let you know what he decides to do."
Claire hung up the phone thinking that if someone was sniffing around her job to talk about her mother, it couldn't be anything she wanted to deal with.
Three hours later, Claire had completely forgotten the interruption as she finished up her post-op protocols. Everything had been routine, though slow-going. Most of her surgeries were pretty standard these days, very few surprises. No more cutting-edge, experimental procedures from her days with Melendez. It's mostly stopped bothering her.
Mostly, not entirely.
As she walked through the hall on her way to the locker room, she saw Neil coming down the hallway from her left. Speak of the devil. She smiled and he returned it, checking his watch as he approached her.
"I thought you were in surgery? Or at least that's what Sonia said when you stole O.R. 2 from me."
"You snooze you lose," she said, chuckling. "And you're here complaining about it, so you're clearly fine." He joined her as she walked to the locker room to grab a few items she'd stowed there before surgery.
Neil slipped his hands in his pockets. "Lucky for your, Andrews finished early so they turned something around for me. In and out, like a legend."
"I'm sure you were brilliant," Claire said sarcastically, quickly gathering her things from her locker. She pulled her phone from her pocket, scrolling through her messages and frowned.
Noticing her change in mood, Neil peered over, curious.
"Oh, it's just this weird message from downstairs. Apparently, somebody came by about something having to do with my mother. I told Nighly to tell them they had to leave a message or wait and it looks like they're waiting. Down in the café."
"Who was it," Neil asked, now concerned.
Claire shrugged. "Don't know." She put her phone back in her pocket. "I guess I'll go find out and I'll let you know." She turned towards the hallway that would take her closest to the information desk and café level on the first floor. It surprised her when she sensed Neil following close behind. She raised a brow.
"I could use a snack." Claire eyed him, skeptical. "Don't look at me like that. Sammy isn't the only one that enjoys a mid-afternoon glass of milk. Or some applesauce. I really need to see what Cindy's offering today."
"Right. You sure you're not just being overprotective?"
"Me? Never!" Neil joked.
Claire thought about calling him out on his nosiness, but she secretly appreciated his immediate concern. Dealing with anything having to do with her mother meant that bringing along some moral support wasn't the worse thing in the world.
When then reached the information desk, Nighly was just getting off the phone.
"Finally. That guy has been by about a million times asking about you. He just left here 10 minutes ago back to the café. Red shirt and jeans, black jacket, bald head and goatee." He ripped off a piece of paper and handed it to her. "That's his name and number. He says he'll wait around until 4."
Claire thanked him and walked towards the café with Neil looking over her shoulder. "Dontre Mackey? Never heard of him," she said, brow furrowed.
"I guess only one way to find out," Neil said. "I mean, if you want some backup. I don't need to be there when you talk to him. I can just go get my—"
"It's fine," Claire chuckled, enjoying his sputtering. "Whatever it is involving my mom, it'll be good to have someone there in case I lose my temper over whatever mess she's left me with." Neil didn't push the point.
A few moments later, he pointed to a man sitting in the corner of the café nursing a cup of coffee and looking out the window. He was tall and skinny, the red shirt, black blazer, and jeans hanging off him impeccably. He looked about her mother's age, maybe a little older, his well-groomed goatee contrasting with dark, smooth skin. There was a tension in his shoulders as he sat quietly gripping his coffee cup, though as they got closer, Claire noticed he was drinking tea.
"Do you recognize him," Neil asked.
"Not at all. And he doesn't seem like the usual scruffy musician type Mom hung around."
When the man saw them approach, he stood and wiped his hands nervously along his jeans.
"Uh, Claire? Claire Browne?" he asked.
Claire nodded. "I'm Dr. Browne." Claire wasted no time getting down to business. "Reception said you have some question about my mother? I don't know if you're a friend, but unfortunately my mother passed away several months ago." It still felt so raw to reveal that, the words sounding foreign on her lips as she pushed down all the hurt and anger she'd been working hard to move past.
"Yes, uh, I know. I'm so sorry for your loss. I only just learned about it a few days ago." His voice softened at the explanation. "I've been out of the country, on tour, so I hadn't heard."
So, he was a musician, Claire thought. He didn't seem the type.
Stepping forward he offered his hand. "I don't mean to be rude. Let me introduce myself. The name's Dontre Mackey. Tre is what people call me. I actually live down in L.A., but I manage a few musicians, including a jazz ensemble that I accompanied on their European tour. I met your mother at a club in Oakland last year. She talked about you all the time."
Claire took his hand and shook, firmly but briefly. "Nice to meet you. Mr. Mackey. I'm afraid she didn't mention you, and we weren't very close, so if you're looking for something she left—"
Mackey tensed. "She never mentioned me at all?" He seemed distressed, shoved his hands into his pocket and then out again. He shuffled his feet before noticing the twitchiness and stopped. He glanced at Neil standing silently at Claire's side. "Typical Breeze," he laughed awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I'm not handling this the best. Please, have a seat. I just want to talk."
Glancing at Neil, Claire looked back at the man's clear anxiety over the situation and pulled out a chair, motioning for Neil to join them.
"Uh, this is my friend Dr. Melendez." Neil nodded at him, but didn't speak. "I hope you don't mind if he joins us."
Mackey gestured for the both of them to sit, and returned to his chair. "Thank you for talking to me. It's just that when I heard about Breeze, it really got to me. She and I had really hit it off. But then I had to join the tour, and I couldn't take her with me. She cut things off really abruptly."
"Like you said, typical Breeze. That's kind of my mom's M.O. You shouldn't take it personally," Claire replied, letting only a touch of bitterness slip through.
"I heard she left behind a daughter and a baby son. And I sort of went into shock."
"I thought you said she talked about me all the time," Claire asked, eyes now narrowing in suspicion. She felt Neil shuffle next to her as well.
Mackey fiddled with his cup. "No, no she did. I knew about you, just not that she'd had a baby. Look, I don't mean to be pushy or just come in here and drop bombs, but I gotta be straight with you. Breeze and I were close before I left, had been for a few months. And I left for tour about eight and half months before I hear she had a kid."
Claire stiffened, gripped the phone in her hand tight enough to leave a mark from her case.
"You see why I had to come find you. My buddy Cecil told me she wouldn't say who the father was and that after she passed, you were the boy's guardian. I had to find you. If I have a son, I need to know."
All her blood seemed to be rushing to her brain at once as Claire tried to process what she was hearing.
This man knew her mother? Had been dating his mother for who knows how long without Breeze having once mentioned it to Claire?
He might be Sam's biological father?
How many times had she wondered about this invisible man in their lives who Sam would never know, just like she would never know her own biological father? So many times she'd wondered if he even knew about Sam and would want to be a part of his life, or would Sam have to grow up without either of his parents? It's one of the reasons she was so grateful for Neil's willingness to hang around and be a good role model for her little brother.
And now here was this stranger seeking to fill that void, wanting to lay claim to her Sam. To take him away.
"You can't have him," Claire responded, an immediate and unequivocal directive. Lips pursed, hands tense in her lap, her whole demeanor turned cold towards the man across from her. She felt Neil move a few inches closer to her in a subtle show of support.
"Dr. Browne, I'm not looking to take him from you or shake you down or nothing. You have to understand that when I heard I might have a son, I couldn't stay away. I have to know." He twisted the cup in his hand before he noticed it distracting all three of them and pushed it away. "I'm not gonna leave him like my dad left me and yours too if what Breeze told me is true. I want to take responsibility and be there for him. I just need to know."
Claire's heart was racing, her breathing deepening as her head swirled with what she should do. She couldn't quite get her thoughts in order. On the one hand, she heard him logically. But emotionally, all she could hear was Sammy getting taken away from her.
God, three weeks ago, she had wondered how she would ever get used to this new life of taking care of her little brother and now she's terrified this one moment will be the end of it all.
Thankfully, Neil stepped in to intervene, squeezing her hand briefly under the table before turning to Mackey. "You can imagine this is a shock. For you as much as for Claire. It's an unusual situation."
Mackey nodded. "I know, I know. Especially if she never mentioned me." He dug into his pocket and took out his phone. "I have some proof though. Pictures of the two of us. I know it's not a lot, but I swear I'm not playing games." He tapped and scrolled through is phone. "See! Here." He leaned over to show the two of them. "This was last September. She came down to L.A. mid-week since she knew I usually worked on weekends. She'd made me take her to every aquarium in the area, but the one in Long Beach was her favorite. Always with those damn sea lions. But it made her happy so I stopped complaining."
Against her better judgment, Claire leaned over to look at the picture. And there she was, her mother and this man looking bright and happy with a sea lion habitat behind them. It struck Claire that she hadn't looked at a picture of her mother in a long time, afraid that the anger would surface at the mere sight of her. She'd worried about doing right by Sammy, trying to figure out how she could possibly make sure he knew where he came from if even a photo of their mother became a hidden, secret thing in their home.
Yet peering down at the images, she mostly felt sad – for her mom, for Sam, for the man in that picture who's smiling and holding her mother close. And she forced herself to recognize that Breeze had the same highlights in her hair as when she'd shown up on Claire's doorstep pregnant and panicked.
Claire felt Neil's eyes on her as Mackey flipped through a few pictures. Ones of them at jazz clubs, other aquariums, on the beach, or in presumably his apartment. They looked relaxed, fun-loving. She sensed Neil taking in her every emotion and expression.
"What is it you want with him."
Mackey pulled his phone back. "I just want to know," he repeated. He stared across the table at her. "Will you tell me his name?"
Eyes filled with tears and panic, heart racing, Claire met Mackey's gaze trying to assess his intentions. She could hear her mother's voice in the back of her head about trusting the wrong people. But she again sensed Neil by her side. He'd assured her that she's a good person, praised her for the compassion that came with more rewards than risk. And the stakes were so high – she would never do anything that could hurt Sammy.
But what if she hurt him by keeping him from his father? A father who seemed like an okay guy and who wanted him enough to track down a stranger for a chance to know his name?
"Samuel," Claire said.
Mackey smiled. "That's a good name. A strong name."
"Claire named him," Neil added.
This made Mackey's smile soften as he turned to her again. "I know you have no reason to trust me. I'm glad you're wary. It only seems right that you protect him no matter what. I promise I'm not here to take him away or hurt him."
Claire sighed, at a loss for what she's supposed to do now. Just run down to the day care unit and make introductions? Draw up a shared custody schedule? Her head is spinning.
"Why don't we take things one step at a time," Neil suggested as Claire's silence stretched on. "First things first. Mr. Mackey, I don't want to be insensitive, but I think we should start with a paternity test. I can set that up for you."
"Neil—" Claire said.
"I can take care of it," he assured her, cutting off her protest. Turning back to Mackey, he added, "We can take it from there."
"Of course, that sounds reasonable. I'm happy to do that." Mackey began to fidget with his phone, his nerves returning.
"Claire, you okay with that? We'll need your consent to access Sam's records."
She nodded. "Yes, of course." Turning back to the man in front of her, she tried to calm herself down and get better control over her chaotic emotions. "Mr. Mackey, if you can wait around a little while longer, we can set things up with the lab. If we ask for a rush, they can let us know by tomorrow. Are you staying in town?"
Mackey seemed startled by how quickly things were moving. "Yes, I'm in town through the weekend. I have business in the area. Scouting." He chuckled. "I gotta say, I'm a little distracted though."
Claire nodded, lips tight in a smile that looked more like a grimace. They sat in silence for a few more moments. "Okay," Claire said.
Neil rested a hand on her shoulder as she stood, and she nodded again to him that she was fine. "I'll take Mr. Mackey to the lab and get the paperwork started. I'm sure you need to check in with Dr. Barnes."
"Are you sure? Park said you have another surgery in a couple of hours."
"Yep. I also have residents who can take care of anything that needs to happen between now and then. I just show up and let the magic happen." She could tell he's trying to relax her with his dumb egotistical humor. And it worked as she offered him a genuine smile.
Mackey got to his feet too, crumpled cup in hand. "I appreciate this and I'm happy to pay for the costs of the testing. I'm gonna do right by Breeze. And by your Samuel."
"Sure. Just meet me back here tomorrow afternoon and have the info desk page me." Claire gave him a genuine albeit small smile and headed back toward the stairs and to work.
It was going to be the longest 24 hours of her life.
TBC...