Accept Me

by Marion Ueckermann

  Probably just as well they weren’t in her bag; she really shouldn’t use them again. Not so soon. It hadn’t even been half an hour since the rescue pump had touched her lips. But why wasn’t the medication working? The tightness in her chest increased, and warnings of overdosing dissipated like fog with the rising sun. She should return to her car and find those inhalers.

  She turned to stand up but a blur of purple blocked her path.

  “Here you go, dearie.” Violet slid a paperback onto the table. Nicholas Sparks’s latest release, Every Breath.

  The irony of that title.

  Violet smiled. “I thought you might like to page through that while you’re sitting here waiting for your order. I would’ve brought it sooner, but I had a customer to attend to first.”

  “T–thank you,” Haddie managed despite her depleted oxygen reserves.

  “Oh, it’s so nice to find a customer who enjoys a good love story.” Violet’s smile stretched across her face, and she slid into the empty chair opposite Haddie, just as Cas returned with Haddie’s order.

  “One chamomile tea and a grilled cheese sandwich.” Cas set a white, porcelain teapot, cup, and saucer down on the table, followed by the grilled sandwich on a matching plate. “Anything else I can get you? Something sweet for after your meal? We have an extreme chocolate cake today, or a slightly healthier, carrot cake. Would you like a slice of one?”

  Much as the extreme chocolate cake sounded delicious, she’d probably better not. Another day maybe when she felt better and could enjoy it fully.

  “Another time, perhaps.” Ignoring her low oxygen levels, or the wheeze as she breathed in and out, Haddie lifted the toasted sandwich and took a bite. She was famished.

  The bite stuck in her throat, and Haddie began to choke.

  She hurried to reach for her tea and took a mouthful. The hot liquid seemed to bounce against the stuck bread, almost instantly spraying out of her mouth. Drops of liquid dotted the table.

  Angst filled Haddie. It felt as if a sumo wrestler sat on her chest.

  Violet’s chair scraped against the wooden floor as she shoved back. “Are you all right, dear?” Concern creased her features.

  Haddie shook her head. She wasn’t okay. Any second, she was going to pass out for sure.

  Violet’s eyes widened as she looked up at Cas. “Her lips are turning blue. Call 911.”

  Chapter Seven

  “FASTER!” Riley urged Pete as his friend steered the ambulance away from the fire station. Ivy’s on Spruce was only a few blocks away, but every second counted when someone couldn’t breathe, particularly when they were already cyanotic.

  Please, Jesus, help us to reach this young woman—Haddie—in time to help her. Keep her breathing enough to buy her time.

  Thanks to the 911 call, Riley knew her name and age. But that’s all.

  What had caused this young woman to apparently suddenly struggle for breath? Had something stuck in her throat? Or did she have some kind of allergy? Maybe a bee stung her. Hardly likely, though. According to Pete’s brother, Dino—Chapel Cove’s resident apiarist—bees are tucked in during autumn and spend their wintery days and nights clustering inside the hive to keep warm, feeding on honey.

  Asthma?

  The options whirled in his mind during the short journey.

  As the ambulance screeched to a stop outside Ivy’s, Riley jumped out, his medical bag over his shoulder. He tore up the steps, leaving Pete to follow with the gurney.

  “Over here. Hurry!” Ivy shouted from the coffee shop.

  Riley sprinted through the bookshop to where the entire staff—Violet, Cas, and Fern—huddled together beside a table near a window, concern etched on their faces. Ivy knelt next to Haddie who lay on her side on the coffee shop floor, struggling to breathe. Her long brown hair swirled on the beige tiles like the artwork on one of Cas’s specialty coffees. Riley wasn’t exactly a bookworm, but he did know exactly where to come for some quiet and a tasty cup of brew.

  Squatting next to Haddie, Riley spoke to her as he opened his medical bag. “Haddie, my name is Riley. I’m here to help you.” He’d already noted her pallor and the blue tinge to her lips. His gaze fell to her slender fingers. Light blue tainted the clear nail polish on her neatly manicured fingernails.

  Riley lifted Haddie’s hand and attached a pulse oximeter to her fingertip. He checked the small portable machine’s readings. Her oxygen saturation was low—only 80%—her pulse rate rapid. She was tachycardic!

  Haddie wheezed, and as her eyes slowly rolled open, they pleaded with him to give her breath.

  Hang in there, Haddie. I won’t let you die.

  “Did you eat something you’re allergic to?” he asked. “Just nod if you can.”

  “I–I don’t think so,” Violet said. “She’d barely taken a bite of her grilled cheese sandwich when she just…s–stopped breathing. A–at least it seemed as if she had. It was so scary.” Violet wiped a tear from her wrinkled cheek. Then the other.

  Another wheeze and a slight shake of the head from Haddie.

  “Asthma?” Riley asked trying to get to the source of her ailment.

  Her eyes dipped closed as if to acknowledge his question. She didn’t open them. He needed to get adrenaline into her now.

  Riley twisted to his bag as Pete wheeled the gurney to a stop close by. He grabbed the EpiPen then injected it through her jeans into the middle of her outer thigh. Checking her pulse oximetry, he held his breath as he waited for a response from Haddie.

  Seeing the course of action Riley was taking, Pete fell to his knees beside him, readying the nebulizer mask and connecting it to an oxygen cylinder. Haddie took a loud gasp of life-giving air, and Riley could finally breathe too.

  Good, she’d needed that.

  She took in more gasps of air as if trying to make up for the time she’d been without breath.

  Pete lifted Haddie’s head and attached a mask over her mouth and nose. Those beautiful brown swirls that Riley had admired earlier disappeared like the foam on a cappuccino. Pete turned on the nebulizer and opened the oxygen.

  Once Haddie’s saturation levels had improved, Riley set about asking some routine questions.

  “Haddie, when did your symptoms begin?”

  Haddie shimmied upright and leaned back against a table leg. She pulled the mask down to speak. “I–I’ve been struggling all day.”

  Riley shifted the mask back into place. He waited a moment before asking Haddie the next question. “Can you remember how many times you’ve used your inhaler and rescue pump today?”

  Again, Haddie slid the mask out of the way so she could speak. “P–probably way too many.” Another wheeze as she struggled for her breath. At least she was breathing and it would improve as the medication and oxygen began to work.

  “I–I was up really early to catch my flight from Kentucky. I g–guess the stress of the journey—I haven’t flown before—the cold, and other s–s–stresses just made my asthma worse. My m–mom… S–she p–passed away r–recently.” Haddie returned the mask to her face then pressed her fingers against her eyes. She lowered her head and began to weep.

  “Oh, sweetheart…” Ivy sank to her knees again at Haddie’s feet. She gently rubbed her hand over Haddie’s jeans. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Riley had the overwhelming urge to engulf Haddie in his arms until her pain had healed. But it would be unprofessional, and from the look in her eyes as she turned her gaze from Ivy to him, that could take a very long time.

  Not that he’d mind holding her for that long.

  Focus, Riley.

  “I’m sorry too.” That feeble apology probably seemed like empty words to her. He couldn’t offer her only that. Riley took her hand and squeezed it. “Really, I am.”

  Her weak smile behind the mask never reached her eyes.

  “Haddie, was this attack worse than you’ve had in the past, or have you had something like this before?” Riley continued.

 
She shook her head and coughed. “N–never like this.” This time she spoke through the mask, her words muffled.

  “How long have you suffered with asthma?” The question was more to satisfy his curiosity to get to know her better than a professional one, although the question was necessary to gather information on her condition.

  Haddie whipped the mask off her head. “As long as I can remember.” She tried to get up.

  Riley stopped her. “Woah. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I–I have things I must do,” Haddie said, still struggling a little for breath between her words.

  “You’re not going anywhere but to the medical center.” Riley resisted the urge to add young lady to the end of that sentence. He couldn’t be that much older than her. Not that he was old by a long shot at thirty-six. Okay, thirty-seven in just over two weeks.

  “You’ll need to breathe through the mask for a while longer, plus be under observation by one of our competent doctors for a few hours to make sure you don’t suffer another attack like this. Either Dr. Johnson, Dr. Stewart, or Dr. Brock would be happy to take care of you.” He chose to spare her the details of the asthma management plan and peak flow tests any of those doctors were likely to insist upon should she be staying in Chapel Cove.

  Riley reattached the mask to Haddie’s face. They needed to get her into the ambulance.

  Just as quickly, she lowered it again. “I–I can’t lie in a—” deep breath, “clinic all afternoon. I have things I must do,” she protested.

  “Honey, get some rest,” Ivy soothed with a gentle smile. “I’m sure you need it—at least your body seems to be telling you that. I can take care of your pressing needs, just tell me how I can help you?”

  “Thank you.” Haddie’s mouth thinned as she seemed to attempt a smile of gratitude in return. She paused for a moment. Was she hesitant to entrust her requirements to a handful of strangers? “I… I need to find a B&B to stay at. D–do you think you could find something—preferably a longer rental than just tonight, although if that’s all I can get, I’ll take it. Tomorrow’s another day to worry about a roof over my head. Today has had e–enough of its own challenges.”

  Was she a believer? Jesus taught that we should only concentrate on today’s problems, not tomorrow’s.

  He should make her feel welcome in Chapel Cove, invite her to church. Once she was feeling better, that is. This Sunday would be far too soon for her fragile body. She’d need a good couple of days’ bedrest after this attack and he had no doubt that was exactly what the doctor would order. Jeff, Mark, or Hudson.

  Ivy patted Haddie’s leg. “Don’t you worry about a thing. In Chapel Cove we take care of our own. And strangers who roll into town on a Friday afternoon. Just be thankful that this young man didn’t cut this pretty blouse of yours from your body.” Ivy gave a soft chuckle as she shot Riley a wink.

  Haddie turned a questioning gaze to him.

  Riley shook his head. “It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

  “I’d like that,” Haddie said. “I love a long story.”

  Ivy rose as Riley helped Haddie up and onto the gurney. Once she was sitting upright, he reattached the mask for a second time.

  Ivy clung to the end of the gurney as they wheeled Haddie out of the bookshop. “I’ll follow the ambulance to the medical center. Haddie will need a ride back here to fetch her car once the doctors are satisfied with her condition.”

  Riley knew Ivy. Beneath that explanation lay the thought that this poor girl just needed someone’s hand to hold.

  Darkness had engulfed Chapel Cove by the time Dr. Johnson wheeled Haddie out of the medical center to Ivy’s car. EMT Riley had been right. Dr. Johnson was wonderful. She really liked him. He’d taken such good care of her the past few hours. And he promised to oversee her ongoing asthma treatment while she was in Chapel Cove. A short course of oral steroids to begin with for the next week combined with bed rest. Plus, she had to regularly record her peak flows during that time by blowing into a small hand-held device he’d given her to use. He said he’d work out a full asthma management plan when he saw her in a few days with the results from the asthma monitor.

  Ivy had seemed to enjoy being in the company of the good-looking, elderly doctor, broad smiles lighting her face every time he walked into the treatment room where Haddie had lain attached to a steady supply of oxygen through a nasal cannula. Ivy had insisted that her staying with Haddie was the same as if Haddie’s own mother were there, and as she couldn’t be, Ivy was standing in for her.

  A thought crossed Haddie’s mind. What if Ivy had taken such an interest in her because she used to be Kayleigh Scott, Haddie’s biological mother? Ivy’s age could fit with what Dad had told her. And people changed their names all the time.

  When the right opportunity arose, she’d flat out ask this kind and gentle lady.

  “Thank you, Dr. Johnson, for everything.” Haddie eased out of the wheelchair and flopped onto the passenger seat.

  “It’s my pleasure, Haddie. Now, you need to take it easy and rest more than usual for a few days. I’ll be checking up on you. I have been known to make house calls.” He glanced at Ivy and shot her a wink before turning back to Haddie. “And I’ll see you back in my rooms on Wednesday afternoon.”

  What was that about? And what was their story? Was there something between Ivy and Dr. Johnson? Could he be her real father?

  Stop it, Haddie! You’re really clutching at straws and coming up with ridiculous, unfounded theories. Just now you’ll be thinking that the cute EMT who saved your life is your brother.

  And she didn’t want to think that.

  Definitely not.

  As Ivy drove away from the medical center, Haddie asked, “D–did you manage to find accommodation for me for tonight?”

  Ivy offered Haddie a broad smile. “Yes.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you so much. Where?” Not that she would know where the place was if Ivy gave her the name. She’d have to punch the address into her car’s navigation system and be surprised when she arrived. Hopefully it would be somewhere with a sea view. She’d never seen the ocean in person, and she couldn’t wait to do so.

  “You’ll be staying at Ivy’s on Spruce.”

  Haddie widened her eyes. “What? No, I couldn’t impose on you. You’ve already been so kind to me.”

  “Nonsense. It’s no imposition at all. I have a small mother-in-law’s apartment attached to the back of the bookshop that’s just standing vacant. Not that I’ve ever had a mother-in-law. I’ve never been married.” A sad look clouded Ivy’s face.

  “Children?” Haddie ventured, putting her theory to the test.

  Ivy’s lip quivered, and she shook her head. She took in a deep breath. “And now, that ship has sailed.”

  Somehow, Haddie believed that Ivy had never birthed a child, much less been capable of giving one away. Ivy couldn’t be her mother.

  “Anyway, you are welcome to stay in the apartment for as long as you need to. It’s small, one-roomed, but it does have its own kitchenette and half bath with a shower.”

  Haddie shot Ivy a grin. “It sounds perfect. Thank you.” She leaned over and gave Ivy an impulsive kiss on the cheek. Her throat constricted, but not from her oft-times debilitating condition. She missed her mom so much. And her dad. Being in the company of these two kind, elderly souls this afternoon had reminded Haddie of that.

  “On one condition,” Haddie continued. “You have to let me pay rent. Otherwise I won’t take it.”

  Ivy pulled to a stop outside the bookshop and cut the motor. She turned to Haddie. “Violet mentioned to me on the phone this afternoon that you’re looking for work. Ivy’s on Spruce could certainly benefit from your expertise. I believe you have some fancy degrees—a BA in English and a Master’s in Library Science. You must be a very intelligent young woman, Haddie.”

  Haddie’s cheeks warmed. She’d always found it difficult to accept praise. “I do my b
est. And I love to read, so that helps. Wait… A–are you offering me a job?”

  Ivy chuckled. “I am. I can’t pay much, but I certainly can make the apartment part of your package. What do you say, Haddie Hayes? Will you become Ivy’s on Spruce’s newest employee?”

  “I would love to.” Haddie threw her arms around Ivy’s neck and tightened her hold “Thank you. So much.”

  Dare she soften her heart and say a prayer of thanks? Accommodation, a job…and one at Chapel Cove’s center of knowledge—books—with women who’d been around the town for decades. And bonus, at a place where people loved to meet and talk…in the coffee shop that is. Books were something else, a place of silence.

  Someone is bound to know something about her birth mother, and Haddie just had a feeling that Ivy’s on Spruce would lead her in finding the woman she knew by only three syllables—Kayleigh Scott.

  Her severe asthma attack this afternoon had certainly paid dividends. Maybe God did work all things for good.

  Haddie raised her gaze to the soft gray fabric of the car’s roof. Thank You, Lord. Just in case He was responsible.

  Maybe, just maybe there’d be something positive to be gained from her mother’s untimely death too. Haddie certainly would never have found out the truth of her adoption had her mom still been alive.

  But God, what good can You possibly bring from that?

  Ivy’s soft voice drew Haddie from her thoughts. “Haddie, I’ve no idea what brings you to a small town like Chapel Cove, but I want you to know that if you ever need any help whatsoever, you can come to me.”

  Dare she tell so soon?

  She drew in a long breath, one guaranteed to give her courage. “I… I’m here to find my birth mother, Kayleigh Scott.”

  Chapter Eight

  HADDIE THREW back the bedsheets in her tiny apartment, an unusual sensation engulfing her. But a good one. Had the week’s rest done her that much good? Or was it the sea air wafting all the way to Ivy’s?