Previously...

On the plane Sam sat beside Jack and he held tightly to her hand. She could feel his wedding ring pressing against her knuckle. Idly, she ran her thumb around her own ring. Daniel sat across the aisle. For the first half hour of the flight, they were quiet, and then Jack started to talk.

"Ellen's the oldest of ten children, and she took care of a lot of babies," he began. "By the time she was nine she knew that she wanted to be a nun. She loved working in the orphanage. She'd only been there a few months when I came along. I was told I took to her immediately..."

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St. Catherine's Children's Home, July, 1953

Sister Rebecca listened in bemusement to the desperate man's voice coming over the phone;

"We're so sorry! We wanted this to work... we really did! We love him... he's beautiful... he's amazing. But for some reason he hates us! All he does is scream—all the time!"

The loud shrieking in the background bore witness to the truth of this statement. At nine months, Jonathan had a very well-developed pair of lungs! There was also the distraught sobbing of a woman, no doubt the caller's wife, in perfect counterpoint to the baby's wails.

"We're sorry," the caller repeated. "We just can't do this! Are all babies this unhappy? Every evening when I come home Brenda is hysterical, and Jonny is screaming. He cries all day and all night! You'd think he'd cry himself to sleep sometime! We're going to have to bring him back to you..." He paused and drew a ragged breath. "We're so sorry, Sister," he said, clearly agonized.

After some soothing words, Sister Rebecca hung up the phone, and looked around at the waiting faces. Father Dennis was frowning and shaking his head. Sister Bea's hand covered her mouth and her eyes were downcast. Sister Mary Marguerite, St. Catherine's Director, wore a stern, disapproving expression. Sister Veronica's eyes gazed heavenward. Ellen was standing in the background, biting her lip and trying to hide the flare of hope in her heart.

"Well, he only lasted a week this time," Sister Veronica commented.

"This is the third family that has returned him," Father Dennis exclaimed. "What's wrong with the child? Is he ill?"

No one answered him. Sister Bea's hand slipped enough for Sister Rebecca to catch a glimpse of the smile she was fighting. Sister Rebeccca also felt like smiling, but one look at Father Dennis and Sister Mary Marguerite made her think twice about the idea.

The Petersons arrived within the hour, with a screaming Jonathan. Ellen hurried to meet them at the entrance, her arms reaching out for the baby, who almost flung himself into her embrace. He hugged his little body so close against hers that they seemed to meld, and laying his head on her shoulder, with one final gulp and sniffle, he fell instantly sound asleep.

The others stared.

Ellen turned away, not wanting the poor would-be parents to see the joy in her face. "I'll take him up to the nursery," she said, and headed for the stairs, leaving the others to deal with the Petersons.

From the beginning Jonathan was such a delightful baby that every couple who had seen him was charmed, captivated. Within a month of arriving at St. Cat's he had been chosen by an adoptive family. The paperwork was being processed, and the final legal steps were in motion. Smiling and happy, the Wilsons took him home.

Three days later they called, saying Jonathan would not eat, he whimpered all the time he was awake, he was listless and slightly warm. The Wilsons were young, sincere and willing, but not experienced, and they clearly had no idea what to do with such a fussy baby. Sister Patricia suggested that they take him to their doctor.

The doctor could find nothing definitive wrong with him. His ears and throat looked fine. There were no sores or bruises that might be bothering him. No cough or sniffle. His chest was clear of congestion. His temperature was normal. Perhaps he was coming down with something, the doctor said, but he'd need more to go on in order to treat him. He was clean and well cared-for and the doctor had no reason to think he was being neglected.

The Wilsons took Jonathan back home. The situation got worse. All he did was cry and sleep. They changed his formula, and he began to eat a little more, but still only the bare minimum. The couple was alarmed. Did he have some sickness that would become serious as he got older? He lost weight. Again the doctor could not find the problem. His fussiness increased in frequency and volume. After nearly three weeks of frustration, the Wilsons gave up, stopped the adoption process, and, both of them in tears and apologizing profusely, returned him to the orphanage.

Back at St. Cat's, Jon instantly transformed into the happy, active, enchanting baby that he had been before. He ate voraciously and soon regained his lost weight. Everyone was completely mystified by what had happened.

Jonathan was three months old by this time, and was interacting more and more with the people around him. The Sisters all adored him. He was happy to smile and play with any of them. But he was especially joyful when Ellen was around—and it soon became clear that he was her favorite, too. Not that she neglected the other babies, she would never do that. She loved them all! There was just something special about Jonathan.

He was nearly five months old when the Whittingtons came along. This time Jon went into full blown shrieking mode as soon as they took him out of the building. The couple wheedled and cajoled and finally managed to get him in the car to take him home.

The Whittingtons were very well-to-do. Mr. Whittington was a lawyer. Mrs. Whittington was from a prominent, wealthy family and had a large circle of friends. They lived a very busy social life—many parties, visits to the country club, outings with friends. They did not intend to give up any of their activities in order to raise a child. Jon was put in the care of a nanny. The first nanny they hired for him was named Kelly. They tried taking him and Kelly along on their outings. When he screamed, they blamed Kelly. She quit after one week. The second nanny lasted ten days. She left without any notice, simply walking out and leaving Mrs. Whittington with the baby. It took three days to find a less-than-perfect replacement, and by then the couple were desperate and almost on the verge of divorce. This third nanny stayed for only two days.

The Whittingtons brought Jonathan back to St. Catherine's early on a Saturday morning. Ellen took Jonathan straight up to the nursery, where he laughed so happily that she knew he was glad to be home.

Most of the sisters began to catch on soon afterwards. Rebecca, Bea, Veronica, Patricia, Ellen—they all realized what was happening... So they were not really surprised that Jonathan had now been returned by the Petersons. They were being manipulated by a master!

En route to Chicago, April 11, 2009, 1315 hours

Sam and Daniel were both laughing as Jack finished the story Sister Ellen had told him so many times, about the way he'd thwarted all attempts to adopt him, even as an infant.

"There were other times, too," Jack said with a smile. "There was this one family when I was about two and a half... I broke things. Lamps. Windows. Vases. I wasn't there very long at all. By the time I was three or four I learned to be quiet and frown and look sullen and to ignore people when they tried to talk me. That wasn't the kind of kid they wanted, so I was left pretty much alone." He chuckled. "Sister Ellen scolded me for behaving like that. She said I really should have a family. I told her I already had one."

"Why didn't she adopt you?" Daniel asked.

"It wasn't allowed. The Sisters couldn't adopt. You serve where the Church sends you. I was just lucky Ellen was at St. Cat's. She could have been sent somewhere else, I suppose. Of course, the orphanage didn't want to lose her. She's fabulous with kids. She's the Administrator of St. Cat's now." He sighed, falling silent as the narrative brought him back around to the present reality.

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How realistic is this? Probably not much. Any sincere adoptive couple would not give up on a baby just because he was fussy. But it was the best way I could come up with to keep Jack at the orphanage. I mean, we all know he must have been an adorable baby! Right!? Check out RDA's website to see pictures of him as a child.

I will be away for the next ten days or so—a wedding this weekend and some business to attend to next week. But I will update again as soon as I return. Thanks for your patience!

TBC. Upcoming: Some background—Jack and the McNamara family.