Single Mom's Protector - Complete Series

by Nella Tyler

  She climbed aboard the bus and took a seat in the middle. There was a woman sitting nearby who, from all appearances, was having a pretty rough time of it. Her hair was dirty, she wore no makeup, and judging by the fact that the other passengers sat as far away as possible, Gilda assumed she had not had a bath recently.

  The woman held a crumpled brown paper bag. She opened it and looked inside from time to time, making sure whatever was supposed to be inside, was still there. At one point, she reached inside and pulled out a photograph. It was small and from all appearances old or often handled, because the edges were bent and the back of the photo stained. The woman’s face changed from a mask of misery to a look of utter enlightenment when she gazed at the photo. Gilda had no idea, obviously, what was in the picture, but she knew it was very important to the woman.

  When Gilda’s stop came up, the woman stayed behind and Gilda suspected that she was one of those who rode the bus throughout the night because it was a warm place to stay.

  When she arrived home, Carson was waiting for her at the head of the stairs outside Mrs. Crutcher’s apartment. “Mama!” he cried. “You’re home!”

  Gilda thought of the woman in the bus and wondered whether the picture was of her own child. Surely there was nothing in the world that could make your cares go further away than to look upon the face of your own child. She counted her blessings and at the same time, held her arms out for Carson to come and hug her.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Crutcher,” she called upstairs and Mrs. Crutcher answered her, wishing her good night.

  She and Carson went into their apartment and as he scampered off toward his bedroom, Gilda reached into her pocket and took the brass key that Cole had given her and added it to her key ring. He was right: it did give her a feeling of security. It wasn’t that she expected Mrs. Crutcher would ever make her leave, certainly not for lack of rent, but perhaps there would come a time when Mrs. Crutcher wouldn’t be able to live there any longer. She was getting on in years and there was always that very real possibility. Gilda knew that Mrs. Crutcher had no children and wondered what would happen to the apartment house when the older woman passed on. Shaking herself to lose the sad thoughts, she went in to kiss Carson.

  “Did you have a very good time tonight, Mama?” Carson asked her.

  “Yes, a very good time. My friend took me to a restaurant that you would’ve liked. It was very colorful and made to look like restaurants used to be when your granny was a girl. I had a burger and fries, and tomorrow, I will take you out to the ice cream shop and you may choose a milkshake of any flavor you like.” She smiled and tucked the blanket in beneath his armpits.

  His face was beaming. “Really? I can’t wait.” Carson closed his eyes and wriggled his body around so that he was facing the wall. She understood his actions. Somehow, if you put your back to the imaginary monsters, you wouldn’t see them and they wouldn’t see you. She would always stand between Carson and his imaginary monsters.

  And even more so those who were not so imaginary.

  She went to bed that night thinking of her five rules. She replayed each of them in her mind. What had caused her to make those rules in particular? she wondered. She knew the answer. It was all about her sense of independence. She wanted a normal life; she wanted a husband, to maybe have more children, and to live in a nice apartment or even a small house. She wanted the picket fence and all the things girls her age wanted. She just didn’t believe they were meant for her.

  So, she had to protect what she had. To dream about things she would never have would’ve meant only misery for now. She was a realist. Life did that to a person.

  * * *

  It was Saturday morning, and Mrs. Crutcher had asked her to help wash the windows inside the apartment building. Although it was still very cold outside, Mrs. Crutcher came from the old country where you kept things clean regardless of the weather. They went from room to room, positioning the short stepstool. As Gilda stood upon it, Mrs. Crutcher would hand her the bottle of window cleaner and a wad of paper towels. “Did you have a good evening last night?” she asked.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I really did,” Gilda admitted in all honesty.

  “And, your young man? Is he a good man?” Mrs. Crutcher came from a world where you married once for life.

  “Yes, I think it’s safe to say he is a very good man, as a matter of fact. He seems to care about me and wants to look after me.”

  “Why so sad? I hear something in your voice.” Mrs. Crutcher might have been getting on in years, but she had lost none of the acuity of her senses. She knew something was bothering Gilda, and the fact that Gilda had no one else to talk to prompted Mrs. Crutcher to be her adopted mother.

  “Sad? I don’t mean to be sad. Perhaps, I am a little bit worried.”

  “Ahhh. And, do you want to tell me why?” She was persistent, if nothing else.

  Gilda climbed off the stool, and they moved on to the next window. She could hear Carson watching television in Mrs. Crutcher’s living room. She decided, finally, that it was time to move on.

  “You’ve never asked me about my past, Mrs. Crutcher. I appreciate that. You showed me the respect of letting me have a past and not having to explain myself. That really meant a lot to me. In fact, you could say that you’ve been more of a mother to me than my own mother.”

  “Oh, sometimes mothers can’t be what they want to be,” she pointed out in her predictable wisdom.

  “Carson and I came to New York City to get away from someone. He was a bad someone, Mrs. Crutcher. He hurt me, and eventually, he would’ve hurt Carson. I don’t want to tell you more because it brings up unhappy memories for me. This house, where you live and where you let me live, it’s a happy place. Let’s not bring in bad thoughts, shall we?”

  Mrs. Crutcher nodded. “And this new young man, is he someone who would make you happy again?”

  Gilda considered this for a moment before she responded, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I think he could make me very happy. Very happy, indeed.”

  They finished the windows in the house and as a thank you, Mrs. Crutcher had made a huge pot of potato soup. She offered a big bowl to Gilda and Carson, sending them off to their apartment to enjoy the rest of Gilda’s day off.

  Gilda’s cell was ringing as she entered. She quickly turned to Carson and told him to go into his room to play. She hadn’t figured out yet how she would manage privacy with her young son around. Indeed, Cole’s number came up on the screen. Checking to make sure Carson was out of hearing range, she turned and walked into the kitchen, pressing the answer button. “Hello?”

  “Gilda? Is that you?”

  “Well, yes. Who else would it be when you called my number?” She knew her response was sassy, but it seemed to fit her mood.

  “I was wondering whether you might like to go ice-skating?”

  “Ice-skating? That sounds wonderful, but no, I can’t. I have other obligations.”

  “Darn. I don’t get much time off, and I sort of hoped to spend it with you.”

  “Sounds to me like you’re beginning to break a rule. What do you think?”

  “I get it. Two points. I will leave you in peace.”

  “Cole?” She slid it in before he disconnected.

  “Yes?”

  “I really would love to go with you, just so that you know. I just have other obligations today. Have I ever shared with you that I am going to nursing school?”

  “No, you never mentioned a word.”

  “Well, it’s only online at this point. There are lots of classes I can take without going to the school itself. When it comes time for lab work and so forth, I will need to go in.”

  “I’m very proud of you, Gilda. You’re not a woman to be held back from anything you want. I admire that in you.”

  “That’s a sweet thing to say, thank you. It may take me quite a while to get there, but I will.”

  “So, I’m guessing that part of your obligations for the afternoon i
nclude having to study?” She could hear the curiosity in his voice and it killed her not to tell him more, but she had to protect Carson.

  “That’s right. If you decide to go on your own, have a wonderful time and stay warm. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “I guess I’ll have to accept that, although I can think of a dozen different ways I could maybe change your mind,” he suggested playfully.

  “I’ll just bet you could. But not this time, Cole.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you play very hard to get?”

  “No, they never have. Not that there have been a lot of others.” She realized she was getting dangerously close to breaking her own rule. Talking about her past was not something she wanted to do.

  “Well, I’ll go by the rules. How about next Friday for dinner?”

  “Actually, that sounds great. Will you call me sometime during the week so we can go over the details?”

  “You know I will. Talk to you then, Gilda.”

  “Who was that, Mama?” Carson was in the doorway and had evidently heard the end of her conversation. He knew she was seldom on the telephone, not having many friends in the city.

  “Just a friend,” she told him and set about warming up the soup for their dinner.

  “Is that the same friend that you went to dinner with on Friday?”

  She thought for a moment before answering. She wanted to keep her private life away from Carson, but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t shield him forever. He would have to know some of the realities. He would never be able to trust her otherwise.

  “Yes, it was; now run down the hall and wash your hands for dinner.” Carson obliged, and Gilda turned to warming up the soup, all the while thinking that she wished she could have invited Cole to join them. She surprised herself with those thoughts. She hadn’t realized she had begun to think of Cole in terms of being part of their family unit. She decided she would have to be more careful about that.

  * * *

  Gilda arrived at the office the next morning to find a pile of manila folders on her desk. She briefly looked them over to find something they might have in common, but was somewhat puzzled. Dr. Keeler showed up shortly thereafter and pointed to the pile. “Contact all those men and women. Their immunizations are not up-to-date. Set them up for appointments and get them in here.” He walked back to his office and the door slammed.

  Gilda shrugged, wondering what he was upset about, though it wasn’t unusual for Dr. Keeler to fall into a bad temper. He was nearing retirement, and she liked the old fellow. He looked after her, and she tolerated his outbursts without being offended. They made for a good working partnership.

  Technically, the unit did not require a doctor on staff. They needed a minimum of a registered nurse. In the back of her mind, Gilda hoped that when he retired, the department might opt for the nurse and by that time, she might have her diploma and be eligible to take the spot. It was a part of her dreams, but she was a determined woman and dreams were what sustained her.

  She went through the individual files, separating them into piles depending on which shift each individual worked. It was always a better idea not to interrupt a shift as that would leave a partner alone or a police assignment unmanned.

  She was surprised when she came across Cole’s name. Since he had just left the military, she would’ve expected that his immunizations would have been up-to-date. She decided to start with him first and telephoned the training center to leave a message for him to call. She didn’t have long to wait; he called within an hour.

  “What’s wrong?” his voice barked, anxious.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m calling you on department business.” She was startled by the concern in his voice.

  “Oh. When they said you were trying to reach me, I thought something had gone wrong.”

  “Well, I think it’s awfully sweet that you were worried about me, but you forget I’m working in a building filled with policemen. There’s very little that you can do for me from where you are that they can’t do for me here.”

  “Okay, smarty-pants.” She could hear the humor in his voice. “So, what’s the department business?”

  “Your name came up as not having your immunizations up-to-date. Dr. Keeler asked that I contact you and have you stop in outside your normal training hours. When would you like to make an appointment to come see him?”

  “Ahh. Well, that’s going to be a bit tough. They don’t give us regular hours here, and I don’t think they want me to miss anything. When is Dr. Keeler available?”

  “How about if you stop by Friday after you’re done with training?” Gilda suggested. “I’ll ask Dr. Keeler to hang around and then we can leave from here to go to dinner together. How would that be?”

  “I think that would be just about perfect,” he agreed. “Oh, by the way, Gilda, you might want to wear jeans on Friday.”

  “Really? Jeans?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. I have your curiosity piqued, don’t I?

  She laughed, “You certainly do. I can’t wait to see what you have in store.”

  “See you on Friday.”

  It turned out to be a very busy week. Not only did Gilda and Dr. Keeler have to take care of the normal mishaps and illnesses that came through their unit, but there were all the additional immunizations to be administered.

  Gilda set them up in an assembly line fashion, minimizing the interruption of the officers’ work day, as well as Dr. Keeler’s workload. She looked after him the best she could, knowing that he tended to slow down later in the day. She had already asked if he would be willing to see Cole Friday afternoon, and he agreed, although reluctantly.

  “Can’t he come in another time?” He was saltier than usual, which worried Gilda.

  “He’s in training, Dr. Keeler. They don’t let him go easily. As a matter of fact, he and I have a date afterwards, so I thought we could leave here together.”

  “I warned you to be careful about that, Gilda,” he told her. “Being married to a cop is a rough life. I sort of hoped for something better than that for you.”

  “Why, Dr. Keeler, I’m surprised that you are being so softhearted. When did this start?” she teased him.

  “Ahhhh…to heck with you then,” he grumbled and headed back to his office.

  Friday came and Cole showed up at the end of the day. When he walked through the door, Gilda was surprised to feel her heartrate increase and a fluttery feeling in her womanhood. Ever since she had left Scott, she made a point of being as immune as she could to male attention.

  “Hey, there. How are you today?” Cole asked her.

  “Looking forward to poking you — with a needle, that is,” she said jokingly. “Why don’t you go into this first room on the right, and I’ll get Dr. Keeler?”

  Cole nodded and headed as directed into the first exam room. Gilda walked down the hallway and tapped on Dr. Keeler’s door. He didn’t answer, so she tapped again. “Dr. Keeler? Your last appointment is here. It’s Cole Stephens, here for his immunization. I’ve got everything set up. Can you step out for a moment and supervise?”

  The door open slowly and Dr. Keeler stood there, very pale and looking terribly ill.

  “Doctor! Are you okay? You look awful. Here, sit down and let me get you a glass of water.”

  “Gilda,” he said, “when was a last time you saw me give a patient a glass of water as a remedy? I’ll take a whiskey, though, if you have one handy.”

  “I’m sorry, I just never expected you to be ill. It throws me off. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine. Just had a little upset stomach is all. Where did you put Stephens? Let’s get this over with.”

  “Exam room one.” She preceded him down the hall and into room one where Cole was sitting on the exam table, waiting, his shirt sleeves rolled up.

  “No, you don’t, young man. This one goes in the hip. Drop your drawers,” Dr. Keeler told him.

  Gilda’s back was turned tow
ard Cole, and she was smiling as she loaded the syringe. She turned and found a very masculine buttocks presented toward her. She fought to keep her face expressionless and professional as she advanced upon him and rubbed his bottom with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol.

  “This won’t hurt a bit,” she told him.

  “I’ll bet,” he responded wryly.

  Gilda administered the injection and turned to deposit the syringe into the safety hazard box. “You can pull up your pants now,” she told Cole and turned to smile at Dr. Keeler, but he had already disappeared down the hall.

  She followed him, calling to him. “Dr. Keeler? Will you be okay? I’m going to be leaving now, but I don’t want to leave you if you’re not feeling well.”

  “Get outta here!” Keeler shouted from within his office.

  Gilda cringed at the tone of his voice. She had never heard him be quite that brusque before and it worried her. There was nothing she could say and no one she could confide in, though, so she had to keep it to herself.

  She met Cole in the waiting room and said, “I’m ready to go when you are.”

  “After you, sweetheart,” he said as she passed to the doorway next to him. He patted her bottom lightly with his hand, making her blush.

  “So, where we going?”

  “It’s a surprise,” he told her. “You may or may not have ever been to one, but I thought this might be something a little more our style.”

  There was a limousine parked out in front of the precinct and as they approached, a uniformed driver emerged and opened the rear door for the both of them.

  Gilda’s eyebrows rose. “For us?”

  “First of all, I don’t want to worry about traffic. I want to be able to concentrate fully on my date: you. Secondly, just because I agreed never to give you gifts, doesn’t mean that you can’t take part in my lifestyle when you’re with me, right?”