Chapter 4 - THE FATHER WHO CAME WITH A CAMERA
Derek Shaw didn't call to ask whether Hannah would survive. He sent me a threat and followed it with a demand to meet.
I forwarded the message to Tessa and asked what she wanted me to do. She called within minutes.
"Nothing," she said. "Don't play tug-of-war with my best friend's child. Let the caseworker and Hannah's lawyer handle him."
"Does Hannah have a lawyer?"
"She does now."
Tessa had contacted an attorney after discovering Derek was speaking to reporters. He'd told one entertainment website that he was "racing home to reunite with his little girl," neglecting to mention that the little girl barely knew his name.
The next morning, I went to Riverside to deliver the coloring pencils Maisie had left in my car. Two photographers stood near the hospital entrance, their cameras ready. They recognized me immediately.
"Mr. Sterling! Are you adopting the girl?"
"Did you pay her mother to let you see her?"
"Is this a promotional campaign for your new children's department?"
I walked past them without speaking. It occurred to me that I had often benefited from precisely this kind of attention. Launching a business, I'd welcomed cameras when they made me look like the scrappy entrepreneur fighting against enormous corporations. It had never occurred to me that the same machinery could pursue a frightened five-year-old.
At the elevators, Derek intercepted me.
He wore an expensive coat over a shirt open one button too far. His smile was practiced, the sort people adopt when a stranger might be recording.
"Nathan Sterling," he said, extending his hand. "Derek Shaw. Maisie's father. You've made quite a splash."
I didn't take his hand. "I hope Hannah recovers. That's what matters."
"Of course. But apparently the whole internet thinks you're a father now. Funny how quickly people forget the actual one."
"You should discuss Maisie's care with her mother and the professionals involved."
His smile slipped. "You think your money puts you above her family?"
"No. That's exactly why I'm not making decisions for her."
An elevator opened behind him. I stepped inside before he could answer.
Tessa was furious when I told her. "He arranged an interview in the hospital lobby. Security stopped them before they reached Hannah's floor."
"What does he want?"
"Attention, maybe money, maybe the feeling of being important. I haven't decided which."
Mara Finch had already advised Tessa about the appropriate process if Derek requested contact. Biological parenthood mattered, but his past involvement, Maisie's welfare, and the existing legal circumstances mattered too. No one could settle those questions on a morning television segment.
Maisie was sitting beside Tessa when I entered the family lounge. She had arranged her crayons from shortest to tallest. When she saw me, she climbed down and ran halfway across the room before remembering she'd been told not to run near the hospital doors.
"You came!"
I crouched. "I said I would."
She showed me a drawing of a dog riding a bicycle. We worked on it together while Tessa spoke with Hannah's medical team. Fifteen minutes later, Maisie stopped coloring.
"Auntie Tessa said a man wants to meet me because he's my daddy."
I set down my crayon. "What do you think about that?"
"I don't know him." She looked at me with alarming directness. "He sent me a unicorn card when I liked dinosaurs."
I wanted to say something cruel about Derek. Instead, I said, "You can tell Auntie Tessa and Mara how you feel. You don't have to pretend."
"Will he be mad?"
"The adults will handle that."
She pressed the blue crayon so hard its point snapped. I quietly sharpened it, and we started another dinosaur.
By afternoon, my own company had become part of the problem. Vivian called me into an emergency board meeting. On the conference-room screen were headlines about the girl at our counter and Derek's televised appeal to "bring his daughter home from the millionaire's orbit."
"We have a family dispute unfolding around our brand," Vivian said. "If you keep appearing at that hospital, reporters will never leave us alone."
"The family didn't invite the reporters."
A board member, Charles Winthrop, leaned forward. "Our stores employ thousands of people. You're allowed a personal conscience, Nathan, but not at their expense."
"Then let's keep the business out of this. We've said what we need to say about privacy."
Vivian clicked to the next slide. It showed a grainy image of me kneeling beside Maisie at the counter. Someone had added a cartoon crown to my head and the words BUY A DADDY TODAY.
My stomach turned.
"Take that off the screen."
"It has three million views," Vivian said. "It won't disappear because you're offended."
I looked around the table. These people had trusted me with expansion budgets and employees' livelihoods for years. Yet I suddenly wondered how many would recognize the child in that image as a person rather than a liability.
"Hire outside privacy counsel," I said. "We'll protect our customers' information and our staff. But don't use that child for a campaign, and don't let anyone imply her mother consented to one."
When the meeting ended, Vivian remained behind.
"You're emotionally involved," she said.
"A child found help in one of my stores. Of course I'm involved."
"You know what I mean. Your brother. This is about Daniel, isn't it?"
I stood still. Only a handful of people knew about my brother's final call. Vivian had known him before the business grew large enough to need a board.
"Don't use him as an argument," I said.
She looked away. "I'm trying to stop you from making a promise you'll regret."
That evening, Tessa called from the hospital. A doctor had begun reducing Hannah's sedation. If she responded well, they hoped she might begin waking soon.
I was halfway to my car when another notification appeared. Derek had posted a photograph of Maisie taken years earlier, together with a link asking the public to support his effort to "reclaim fatherhood."
May you like
There was a donation button beneath her face.
And for the first time since she'd walked into my store, I was afraid the next person trying to buy something would be the man who'd already abandoned her.
