"Kate," she said warmly, "it's nice to hear from you. How's the baby?"

"Wonderful. She's getting so big, you wouldn't recognize her. She rolled over yesterday, and she was so proud. Just beaming, the little stinker."

"Bring her by, we'd love to see her." The social worker's tone changed, becoming all business. "I'm guessing you didn't call to talk about Emma's many accomplishments. Am I right?"

"Right." Kate cleared her throat, nervous about how to approach this. She didn't want the social worker to think she was paranoid or to start having doubts about the stability of the couple who were now Emma's parents. But she had to know if she thought Emma's birth mother could be having second thoughts about giving her baby up. If she couldn't have somehow found them.

"I was wondering…have you heard from Emma's birth mother?"

"No," Ellen responded, "not at all. Why do you ask?"

"I'd still like to meet her. We both would."

"I'm sorry, but she was adamant about keeping the adoption completely closed." "I see." "I know you're disappointed, but hang in there, she may change her mind yet."

She wouldn't, Kate knew. Maybe that was just her paranoia thinking for her, but she didn't think so. She had this awful feeling the woman didn't want to meet them because…what? She had plotted some diabolical scheme, one designed to ruin their lives?

Right. That kind of scenario didn't happen in real life- only in Hollywood screenplays.

Even as she told herself she was losing it, Kate asked, "This may sound crazy, but is there any way Emma's birth mother could have found us? Could any of our identifying information been inadvertently included in our profile packet?"

"Absolutely not." Ellen drew a cautious sounding breath. "Is something wrong?"

Kate sighed. "It's silly, but I…I have this terrible feeling that-"

"Emma's birth mother has changed her mind and wants to steal Emma away from you."

"Yes." Kate brought a hand to her chest, both relieved and horrified. "That's it. How did you know?"

The social worker laughed lightly. "Because it's such a common fear among adoptive parents, especially ones involved in a closed adoption. In a closed adoption, the birth parents remain big question marks. The adoptive parents don't understand why they gave their baby up. They wonder, how could they? After all, to them the baby is the most wonderful, perfect creation in all the world, and they love her so much, they can't image life without her."

She had wondered those things, Kate acknowledged. In just that way, too many times to count.

"Actually," Ellen continued, "your fear of losing Emma shows me how completely you've bonded with your daughter. You're a family now and the thought, even unfounded, that someone might have a claim to a piece of that family is, well, it's terrifying. As time passes, it'll get better." Kate heard the smile in the woman's voice. "I promise."

Kate laughed self-consciously, somewhat comforted, but she couldn't help thinking there had to be something about Emma's birth mother that even Ellen didn't know. "She never expressed any second thoughts? She hasn't called and asked about Emma? Nothing?"

"Nothing. Kate, I promise you, Emma's birth mother was totally committed to placing Emma. She was as at peace with her decision as any birth mom I've worked with. Trust me on this, you will not be hearing from her."

Moments later, Kate hung up the phone, the social worker's reassuring words ringing in her ears. But even so, Kate couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that it was too late-they had already heard from her.

It didn't take long for Kate to begin meeting The Bean's newbies. The first was Mr. Military, as Blake had dubbed him. Kate was dismayed to see that for once her melodramatic employees had not exaggerated-he was a very scary guy, cold as ice.

Kate approached him, introducing herself as The Bean's owner, intent on learning his name and what he was doing in Mandeville. She failed miserably. He made it clear that he had paid her exorbitant price for a cup of coffee and that he would like to enjoy it in peace.

She granted him his request, though not without a measure of dismay. Why, she wondered, had he decided to frequent her friendly little establishment?

The Jerry Garcia groupie strolled in next, her third morning back, reeking of incense and saying things like "cool" and "far-out." Marilyn got into a lively no-nukes discussion with him, and Tess took a break to hear about his days traveling with The Dead.

Kate wandered over after getting Emma fed then down for her nap. "Hi, Steve," she said and held out her hand. "I'm Kate."

He smiled and shook her hand. She noticed that his skin was unusually smooth for a man's. "Figured as much," he said. "Love your place. It has great vibes."

"Thank you."

"The stained glass is awesome, really. Tess tells me you're the artist."

"Thanks again, and yes, I am." She narrowed her eyes, studying him. Something about him seemed awfully familiar. "Have we met before?"

"Don't think so." He sipped his latté. "Haven't been in town that long. You ever see The Dead in concert?"

She shook her head. "No, though I have a few of their CDs."

They chatted some more, mostly about the Grateful Dead's music. After a few moments, she excused herself to return to the counter to help Blake with the group of college students that had just come in. When they had serviced the group, she leaned toward Blake. "Something's wrong about that guy," she murmured.

He followed her gaze, then frowned. "Are you talking about Steve?"

"Mmm-hmm. Ever heard the expression, crazy like a fox?"

"Him?" Blake made a face. "No way. The guy's a Jell-O-head."

"I don't think so." Steve looked up suddenly, and Kate quickly averted her gaze. "Check out his eyes. I'm telling you, that whole hippie thing's a put-on. That guy's sharp as a tack."

Blake shook his head. "Get real, Kate. First off, why would anyone actually want to pretend to be a seventies drug casualty? And second, the guy's a complete stoner. Pure and simple."

Kate let it drop, though she didn't buy it. And she still felt certain that she and Steve Byrd had met before. She resolved to keep a close eye on the man.

Later that day, The Bean's last newbie made an appearance. If she hadn't already guessed by the man's Cleveland State T-shirt, Tess's "Oh, my God, it's him," would have given it away. The young woman practically drooled in his double espresso.

"You must be Nick," Kate said, holding out her hand. "Welcome to The Uncommon Bean."

He seemed completely immune to Tess's reaction to him, and smiled at Kate, revealing the most beautiful, whitest teeth she had ever seen. He had a movie star's smile, she decided, disarmed. Tess was right-Nick Winters was quite an attractive man. She would bet the coeds at Cleveland State had lined up to take philosophy.

He took her hand. "And you must be Kate. Your employees have told me all about you."

"Really?" She laughed a bit self-consciously and eased her hand from his. "Good things, I hope?"

"Glowing. They sang your praises." He smiled again and shifted his gaze to Emma. "They told me all about your little miracle baby, too. May I?" He held out his hands. "I haven't held a baby in what seems like forever."

Kate hesitated only briefly, then handed her daughter over. Any concerns she had were immediately alleviated- he handled Emma like a pro.

He held her up, admiring her. "She's beautiful."

"Thank you." She smiled. "I think so, too."

He talked softly to her, making her grin and squeal. Kate watched them. "I see you've spent a lot of time around children."

"I was the oldest of a brood of six."

"Do you have children of your own?"