Free Baby Be Mine by Diane Fanning Page B

expanded in the 60s to include grants for parks and other recreational sites. At that time, money was provided to establish a basic park in the center of Melvern.
    It was a nice green space, but lacked any amenities. In the 90s, the townspeople wanted more. They presented a proposal to add a playground and restrooms to the park and received a $50,000 matching grant from the Jones Fund. After four months of donated labor and additional monetary contributions from the citizens of the town, they had a created a cheerful spot in the middle of town. Colorful jungle gyms, slides and swings for the children added a brightness and vivacity to the downtown area.
    Projects like these provided more than an aesthetic lift. They also revitalized the town spirit and defeated the dreariness found in many small rural towns. Instead of a glumgiving-up attitude, visitors were greeted with the upbeat energy of a small vital community.
    Kevin’s parents, Roger and Joy Montgomery, moved to Melvern in the early 70s. Roger, an electrician, was drawn to the area by the promise of work on the development of Melvem Lake.
    The lake in the Marais Des Cygnes River Basin was one of a network of Army Corps of Engineer projects authorized by the United States Congress in the 50s to reduce flood damage and enhance water resources. It was situated on over 23,000 acres of federally owned land—the footprint of the lake itself covered nearly 7,000 of those acres.
    Melvern felt like home to the Montgomerys after the completion of that project, and the family dug its roots deeper and stayed. Roger found a new job at the Wolf Creek Generating Station in neighboring Coffey County. The nuclear plant was a pressurized water reactor providing 1,200,000 kilowatts of energy daily.
    Roger and Joy were active in the community, helping to make the difference that was so clear to see on a drive through town. They were an instrumental force in the construction of the community building and in the improvements to Jones Park. Their son, Kevin, also donated his labor to the cause.
    Kevin and Lisa met when they worked together in Topeka. He was a family-oriented man who unlike Lisa, came from a functional, intact home. The attraction was mutual—the love of kids a shared value. They began dating soon after their first encounter.
    In 1999, the relationship was still quite new when Lisa pulled one of her old tricks out of the bag and informed Kevin that she was pregnant. If she had hoped to coerce a wedding proposal with this news, she was sorely mistaken—the wounds from a bitter divorce were still too fresh for Kevin. He gave her the money to get an abortion. Lisa pocketed the cash, but never got the procedure—there wasn’t any need.
    Then she concocted another pregnancy tale to stir up Kevin’s sympathy. She confessed that she’d gotten pregnant when she was a teenager. She carried the baby full term, she said, but after the delivery—no baby. Everyone told her that the infant was born dead—but that was just a horrible trick.
    Her baby had survived, she told Kevin. Behind her back, her own mother put the baby up for adoption. Years later, her suspicions that her family duped her became more certain in her mind. She investigated and tracked down the baby’s adoptive parents, discovering that her oldest biological child was named Sarah.
    There is no indication that any part of this story was true.
    Kevin, though, accepted everything Lisa told him without question. He took her at face value and believed her version of any event over that of everyone else. He was a quiet, clean-cut guy who accepted life the way it was—preferring to go along to get along, rather than challenge much of anything.
    Kevin married Lisa in March 2000. People who knew him were surprised that he was willing to jump into another commitment so soon after his messy separation from his first wife. But he took the leap and soon had not only a new wife but a bunch