Mad About You

woman smiled encouragingly. "As far as we know, yes. Neighbors say that Lois Green was a person who sometimes acted a little strange, but was very protective where Chad was concerned."
    Bailey bit the end of his tongue. It wasn't fair to Ginny that another woman had been allowed to be protective of their child. But considering all the alternatives their son could have been exposed to, it wasn't the worst scenario by far.
    "There was no father figure in the home, and I gather from my sessions with Chad that he grew up quickly, and assumed the role of caretaker when Lois became ill."
    "How did she die?" Bailey asked.
    "Cancer," Ms. Andrews replied.
    "Was she—" Ginny hesitated, and he saw her clench her hand into a fist. "Was she a decent sort of person?"
    The counselor nodded. "Lois Green held a secretarial position and rented a small apartment. It wasn't in the best part of town, but she made certain Chad went to school, and you'll be glad to know he's a good student."
    "What grade?" It sounded like a stupid question, but Bailey had no time for pretenses.
    "Fourth. I understand you have no other children, Mr. and Mrs. Kallihan?"
    Bailey squirmed, and Ginny's cheeks flushed dark pink before she said, "Actually, Ms. Andrews, we're no longer married. I go by the name of Catron."
    Mild surprise registered on the woman's face. "Oh? Which family will Chad be living with?"
    Bailey coughed. "Neither one of us have a family."
    "We're both single," Ginny clarified, "and Ch-Chad will be living with me."
    "I see," Ms. Andrews said slowly. "Well, for Chad's sake, I'm sorry you're not living together, but I guess this is the next most desirable situation, if you're both agreeable to the living arrangements." She glanced at Bailey.
    "We've reached a compromise." He met Ginny's gaze, and felt a stab of determination to breach the wall she'd erected.
    The counselor nodded, then explained they were forty minutes away from the home where they would meet Chad after they signed the necessary papers.
    He felt Ginny stir beside him before she asked, "What does he look like?" He glanced at her, but had to look away when he saw the tears gathered in her eyes.
    Ms. Andrews smiled. "He's a fine-looking boy. I'm sure you will be very pleased."
    The forty minutes crept by. No one spoke, as if conceding that words could not prepare them for what lay ahead. Bailey alternately concentrated on the traffic outside and the tightening and loosening of Ginny's iron grip on her purse. Unable to help himself, he reached over to close his hand over her white-knuckled one, but he didn't look at her for fear she'd pull away. She didn't, and he welcomed her warm skin against his to calm his own jumping nerves.
    At last they pulled into the shelter's crowded parking lot. Bailey squinted at the gathering of people and equipment just outside the entrance. "What's going on?"
    Mr. Maybry banged his fist on the steering wheel and Ms. Andrews shook her head angrily. "Reporters," she said. "Someone must have leaked the story to the press."
    He heard and felt Ginny's sharp inhale, and felt a surge of protectiveness. "Damn. Is there a back entrance?"
    "Too late," Mr. Maybry said as the crowd turned and ran toward their van, microphones held high and cameras rolling.
    Detective Lance and another police officer were on their feet before the van rolled to a stop. "Follow us," he instructed.
    Bailey clasped Ginny's hand and held on, even when she started to pull away. "Stay close to me," he murmured. The din of the crowd exploded around them when the van door opened. A dozen microphones were thrust into their faces and camera flashes blinded them.
    "Mr. and Mrs. Kallihan, what are your feelings as you prepare to meet your son for the first time in eight years?"
    "Do you know anything about him?"
    "What if he doesn't want to live with you?"
    "Will you give us a statement before you leave?"
    The police officers cleared a path, with Mr. Maybry and Ms. Andrews offering protection from behind. Bailey focused on the home's entrance, his strength growing each time Ginny leaned into him. Finally they reached the steps, the sounds and voices receding behind them as they ascended to safety.
    The door closed behind them. Bailey looked around, forcing his eyes to adjust to the dimness, expecting to see his son in any corner of the room. His heart pounded in anticipation.
    "I'm terribly sorry about that," Ms. Andrews said. "I guess it was bound to capture the media's attention. It's