Father to Be by Marilyn Pappano

discounted the two dozen cartons of books stacked just inside. The combined fragrances of wood polish and fresh flowers perfumed the air, and the sound of a television was muted in the background.
    She shifted her attention back to the doctor. “I understand you have the Brown children here.”
    “Of course I do. Where else would I have them?”
    She ignored his testiness. “Can I see them?”
    He gestured down the hall, and she followed the television sounds into the living room, where four children sprawled together on the sofa. Four pairs of identical brown eyes subjected her to a scrutiny as thorough as she gave them, then dismissed her as unimportant—meaning not their parent—and turned back to the television.
    They looked as good as could be expected for four children who’d lived on their own for six weeks—a testament to the oldest boy’s determination. According to their records, they were relatively healthy, though undernourished, and they hadn’t suffered any apparent harm in their unauthorized time with the doctor. Still, he shouldn’t have taken them. Though his intentions had no doubt been good, it was still against the rules.
    When it came to protecting the children in her care, Kelsey was a stickler for following the rules.
    She shifted her attention back to J. D. Grayson. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
    “Down here.” He led the way to a room that had hastily been converted into sleeping space, with nothing on the walls and a small collection of toys and children’s books on the shelves. A dresser didn’t quite cover the deep indentations in the rug where a larger piece—a desk, perhaps—had recently stood, and a few unfaded patches on the wall showed where photographs had been removed.
    She turned in a slow circle between two sets of unmade bunk beds. The lower left bed was obviously the little girl’s—Gracie’s—with its pink sheets and lace-edged candy-striped spread. The bunk above hers sported a football theme, while race cars and cartoon characters roared across the other two. “This room is a bit small for four children.”
    “No one seemed to listen yesterday when I said I didn’t have room,” he said dryly as he leaned against the dresser. “What is it you want, Ms. Malone?”
    She gestured toward the door. “Can we close that?”
    “I’d rather not. Caleb has a habit of listening around corners. A closed door might be more temptation than he can resist.”
    And J.D. was standing where he could see if anyone so much as stepped into the hallway. She acknowledged the wisdom of his strategy. “I came to pick up the children.”
    “You what?”
    “I assume you meant well, Dr. Grayson, but you can’t just take them.”
    He was staring at her as if she’d begun speaking an alien language. “
I
meant well? Hey, lady, this was
not
my idea. You people came to me. You
asked
me to take them.”
    “There seems to be some misunderstanding here. This is my case, and I couldn’t possibly have asked you—”
    He waved one hand impatiently. “Not you. The other one.”
    “The other what?”
    “The other social worker. Jeez, don’t you people talk to each other?”
    Feeling off balance again, Kelsey took a deep, calming breath. “What other social worker?”
    “The one who came to me yesterday and asked me to take the kids—no, not asked, insisted. She said they needed me, said no one else would do. She even got Judge McKechnie to show up in court on a Sunday afternoon to sign an order for temporary custody. What’s her name … Noelle. That was it.”
    “Noelle who?”
    “I don’t remember. You should know. It’s your office.”
    “I admit I’m new here, Dr. Grayson, but I just met all the employees in the office this morning, and there’s no one by the name of Noelle.”
    For a long time he stared at her. Once he opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it again. Then, combing his fingers through his hair, he did argue. “You must be mistaken.”
    She