“The day before the big storm last winter. You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t get to the day care, and Albie was snowed in with the kids.”
“The father brought her in just before it snowed. Winters are so brutal for these people. I gave all the info to Jesse.”
Leefe scowled. “Jesse never said a word.”
“As to abuse…” Dr. Bergs looked at the computer again. “Yes, it was that December storm. I’m not sure, nor was the other doctor that I called in to look at her. She definitely had some bad bruises on her back plus a raging bladder infection. With a child this young, who knows where she sleeps, if she drinks clean water, or if they have bathroom facilities. There were no contusions or vaginal tears, but she was sore, believe me.”
“So what do you think?” Leefe turned to the doctor, waiting.
“I can’t be positive is what I’m saying. I’ve treated the older brother, and the father seems responsible, but you never know. Check with me if anything catches your eye.”
“I know about the mother’s drugs and prostitution. Who knows what she drags into their lives.”
Clary leaned against the wall, watching them. Obviously, the doctor liked Leefe, from the genuine smiles and respect in her voice. They were open with each other, and they’d probably known each other quite a while. As a teacher, Clary’d been involved in conversations like this. It was never comfortable talking about abuse.
“All right,” Leefe sighed. “And you spoke to Jesse about this?”
“I did and told her to give you the information. I’ll see you upstairs.” She started to leave but turned back to Leefe. “How are you feeling? I was here when they brought you in.”
“It slowed me down, but today’s been a good day. Or it was.” Leefe looked back at the bed. “Devi, they’re going to take you upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute. Be a good girl for me, okay?” She leaned over and kissed Devi’s forehead. Devi nodded. The tears had stopped.
“Do you have my backpack?” Leefe said to Clary.
“It’s in the car,” Clary said. “Let’s get it and I’ll go upstairs with you.”
Leefe held up her phone. “I have to call Albie.” She talked a few minutes as they walked into the dark night. “Damn.” Leefe spat the word out into the parking lot after she’d hung up. “Jesse never said a word about Devi last December. Worse, I don’t remember bruises on her back, or the bladder infection. That’s on me.” She began to dial again. “Now I have to call Beverly.”
“With a storm that size, Jesse probably forgot, and you did too,” Clary said, but Leefe was already talking on the phone. Clary scanned the stars above them, remembering last winter.
That same violent storm had blown though Iowa and Minnesota first, past the hospital where she’d admitted herself to rest. She’d watched hours of it, blowing and howling around the brick buildings. Something hopeful had happened to her there, clearing a part of her mind as if the storm had carried some of the bad things away.
Chapter Twelve
Visiting hours were over, and the Pediatric unit was quiet. Leefe handed her ID to the nurse behind the desk, still thinking about last December. All she could remember was the dead silence of almost two feet of snow and how she’d missed sunlight. The city had come for her on a snow mobile.
“Did you get something to eat tonight?” Clary said and eased into a chair beside a big Raggedy Ann doll in Devi’s room.
Leefe bent over the bed, touching Devi’s small shoulder. Satisfied that she was asleep, Leefe settled onto the cot between two huge teddy bears. “We had thirty-four kids for dinner, and I fixed the always popular macaroni-hamburger-cheese casserole. Don’t tell them, but I love it as much as they do. You should have heard Devi name all the colors in that dish. How about you?”
“After Piper’s meeting, my neighbor ordered pizza, and we went through his fishing equipment. We’re going down to the harbor and fish tomorrow. Want a little company for a while, or would you rather grumble around here alone?”
Leefe kicked off her shoes and shoved the backpack under the cot. “I’m only upset about Devi, and ticked at Jesse as usual.”
“As usual? Are you mad at her a lot?”
“Not so much mad as I hate the way she orders me around.” Leefe saw Clary take a breath. “Admit it, Clary. She’s a lot like Al-Qaeda sometimes.”
Clary gave a short laugh. “Jesse’s under a lot of pressure, and I’m not making excuses. You don’t have to put up with her crap. I don’t, well, not much anyway.”
“She’s a terrorist, I guarantee you.” Leefe rubbed her face. “Forget her. All I care about is Devi. This whole day was off for her. She was late and needed a bath and clean clothes.”
“I saw her downtown this morning, alone and running. She looked scared.”
“She said her mother wouldn’t wake up, so she probably was scared. We work with the kids about those moments and how to get to the day care. We use things like the chimes and walk the kids through the neighborhood so they recognize the houses, the little convenience store, even street signs for the few that can read.”
“Are injuries like this common?”
Leefe nodded. “More than you know, and it’s usually the parents or someone in the family that hurt them.” They were both silent as Leefe studied Clary. “Was this what you wanted to talk about tonight, at Maureen’s? The kids?”
“I have a lot of data and statistics, but they’re just numbers.” Clary moved to the cot and sat next to her. “I’d rather talk with you.”
“You want something personal?”
“We all know the words, but few of us know the experience,” Clary said. “As I told you, my parents were activists and teachers, and that means I know a lot about this country’s social issues. For example, I’ve never had to worry about food, but I’m aware of the problem, and you’re probably the first adult I’ve ever talked to that’s experienced homelessness. I’m not even sure I’ve ever taught a truly homeless child, but the teachers here have. They’re concerned, Leefe. They care.”
“I don’t know what I would have done without teachers when I was growing up, or Beverly. And I always worried about food. Always.” She studied Clary, thinking of the information she’d found online this morning. “What about you?”
Clary gave her a puzzled look.
“Jesse said you’d gone through something…problems…but didn’t explain.” Leefe could have sworn the shine around Clary dimmed. “I cheated and Googled you this morning.”
“There’s nothing, is there?”
“There’s quite a bit, mostly from the newspaper. I read about your education and family. Also, there was an article about your award. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” Clary took a deep breath. “The ‘problems’ Jesse mentioned took place in Iowa. I lived with a woman and her little girl from the time Hannah was three months old. The woman met a man when Hannah started second grade, and then, on the last day of school, I came home to an empty house. Robin had taken Hannah and left. I never knew about the man.” Clary shook her head. “It’s a common story, but it sure wrecked me. She married the guy, and I ended up with a therapist.” Clary’s voice shook a little, but her gaze never flinched.
“I know about therapists, and I’m sorry.” Leefe swallowed hard. Who would treat Clary like that?
“Me too, but the therapist helped me realize it’s not the end of the world.” She looked at Devi. “Hannah’s safe. By comparison, Devi’s at risk, physically as well as emotionally.”
“Is that why you were crying at Maureen’s last weekend, over the woman and the little girl?”
“No,” Clary said, concentrating on photos on her phone.
Leefe waited for more, but Clary silently continued to look at her phone. Clary was thinner, more sculpted than the online photos she’d seen this morning, but age had only made her more attractive. She had the most beautiful mouth she’d ever seen and—
“Here.” Clary handed the ph
one to Leefe. “Meet Hannah.”
“Look at that smile and those blue eyes. She’s adorable.” Leefe grinned at the photo.
“She has the best laugh and a really quirky mind. Robin could disappear forever, but I miss my little girl.”
“Are you able to talk to Hannah?”
“I called so often that Robin’s husband threatened me, but they finally let me talk to her on her ninth birthday last month. We miss each other.”
Devi gave a small cry, and they both got up and leaned over the bed railing.
Leefe laid her hand on Devi’s forehead. “Clary, she feels hot.”
“I’ll get the nurse.”
Leefe rubbed Devi’s arm and leaned close to her face. “I’m here. Clary’s gone for help.”
*
When Clary turned away from the nurses’ station, Jesse stepped off the elevator.
“Did you find the parents?”
“No,” Jesse said and put a hand on Clary’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I was cranky earlier.”
“That’s just another word for rude isn’t it?” Clary stepped aside as the nurse came out of the room and told them they could go in.
Devi was sitting up, telling Leefe about what happened in the square. “Mama and the man talked, and Papa came over. The man pulled my arm and Papa hitted him and the man fell on me.” Big tears leaked down Devi’s cheeks, and she gripped Leefe’s hand. “Papa was mad.”
“It’s okay, honey. We’ve got you now.” Leefe cupped Devi’s face with her hand. “You have a fever and Dr. Bergs will make you better.”
At that moment, Dr. Bergs came into the room and smiled down at Devi. “Hi, sweetie,” she said, pushing the damp black hair back from Devi’s little face. “I’m going to give you a shot and take the fever away.” A nurse came in with a tray. “When you wake up in the morning, you’ll feel a lot better.” She held up the needle.
Devi looked at Leefe with fearful eyes. “Will you tell me the bear story if I don’t cry?”
Everyone in the room smiled at that.
“You can do this because you’re brave,” Leefe said.
Devi didn’t make a noise, but her lip trembled. “I’m okay,” she said after the shot.
“I knew you could do it,” Leefe said. “Now I’ll tell you about the bear.”
In the hallway, Dr. Bergs leaned against the wall, talking to Clary and Jesse. “I’m still waiting for test results. She had a low-grade fever when she came in, and it might be the same as the last time. I normally don’t give children a shot. We usually give them liquid antibiotic, but time is limited with Devi. What about the parents, Jesse?”
“Gone,” Jesse said. “We’ll need Leefe’s expertise on this. She might know where they are. We interviewed everyone we could but found nothing. I’d bet the father saw the mother with that man, and followed them, but it isn’t like him or the brother to leave Devi.”
“We’ll keep her until tomorrow and then hide her at the day care with Leefe for a while. After that, I don’t know. I’ll call Beverly in the morning. Darn, I wish Maureen was here.” Her pager went off, and Dr. Bergs began to move. “You look tired, Jesse. Get some rest.”
“How is Aunt Mo involved?” Clary said.
Jesse settled down in a big chair in the lounge and rubbed her eyes. “Maureen, Beverly, and others take these kids when needed. They’re mostly older women with husbands that don’t mind, but even Howie and his wife help out. It’s only to get the children back on their feet and keep them safe for a few days. Sometimes the parents don’t even know they’re gone.”
“Who came up with that?”
“The dynamic duo, Beverly and Maureen.”
“If my mother was here, it’d be the Three Musketeers,” Clary said with a little laugh.
Jesse grinned. “True. Did you know your parents were part of the original group that came up with a day care idea with Joe before they got into the big fight with the town over Breakers School? It wasn’t focused on the homeless originally. Our unemployment was steady then.”
“When Mom and Dad moved, and I was here with Robin and Hannah, we talked about a day care, but I wasn’t aware it was for homeless children. They didn’t make a point of it,” Clary said.
“By the way, I bought the books for the day care at Sharon’s old store. It hasn’t changed a bit, has it?” Without waiting for an answer, and without thinking, she went on. “We didn’t finish our conversation at Maureen’s the other day when you said ‘unfinished business’ about Sharon. What happened to you the two years I was in England? You were about done in Milwaukee and I went to Chicago right after the funeral.”
Jesse stood abruptly. “I’m only trying to find out why she left. I swear Leefe knows but she won’t talk.” She moved closer and lowered her voice. “Let’s not talk about Sharon, but let’s do talk about you and Felice last weekend.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It is when Kaye makes everything in South Port her business and involves you.”
“Why does anyone care about Kaye?” Clary turned away, but Jesse grabbed her arm hard and she jerked away. “Hey,” she said, and suddenly, Leefe was beside her, hand protectively on her hip.
“Jesse,” Leefe said, low and intense, moving between them.
Jesse pushed into Leefe, forcing her backward. “Don’t do that.” Jesse paused to make her point and then went through the door to the stairs to the main floor.
“Al Qaida,” Leefe muttered, watching the door close. “You’re shaking.”
“We argued.” Clary sighed and moved to the elevator. “We’re all tired, and I should go. Get some rest and call me when you get up. I’d like to help.”
Upset, Clary collapsed against the elevator wall when the doors closed. It appeared Devi was going to be all right, and that was the most important thing. The elevator creaked, and she closed her eyes. She shouldn’t have mentioned Sharon. All it did was agitate Jesse, and to hell with Kaye. She’d find something else to talk about.
Robin had been like Kaye and Felice, thriving on gossip, clothing, money, and sex. Truthfully, Sharon had been somewhat like that too. Clary had grown up with all of that swirling around her and become kind of numb to it. Well, except for Kaye, but she was determined to put a stop to that now.
The light blue neon angel above the hospital sign cast a dim light over the parking lot, turning her yellow car to a light green. She’d be here tomorrow and help with Devi.
Her mind caught on a thought as she dug for her car keys. Jesse had never grabbed her like that, and she’d pushed Leefe backward. She hit the car remote and remembered Leefe standing between her and Jesse. That had been unexpected.
Chapter Thirteen
Leefe leaned over Devi’s bed the next morning, blinking against the sunlight on the bright colors in the room. Devi slept soundly, knotted in the pink blanket. The flush had left her face, but her eye looked sore.
Leefe gripped the bed railing, thinking about the months ahead. Devi would be in school next fall, and the day care was a regular stop for the school bus. She wondered how far she could go to keep an eye on her. The person to talk to was Beverly. She sat on the cot, beginning to dress.
Something beside her fell, hitting the floor with a sharp noise, and Leefe saw Clary’s phone. She’d probably left it when they discovered Devi’s fever last night. Leefe turned it over in her hands to make sure it wasn’t broken and turned it on. Clary’s little girl was cute, and she glanced at Devi. It would be awful to lose her like that, but it happened, and in far worse ways. Leefe swiped to the next photo. A truly beautiful woman with shining blond hair held a much younger Hannah and smiled at the camera. Leefe studied the photo. She reminded her of Kaye’s cousin on the boat last weekend, the one that had been so possessive of Clary.
At least she knew what had happened to Clary. Her own one little relationship hardly qualified her to understand what happened between two people. She read a lot of fiction but had no idea how close that came t
o real life.The door opened. Dr. Bergs leaned in and motioned for her to come outside. They talked in the hall.
“The tests showed nothing other than a low-grade bladder infection, and we’re home free on the concussion,” Dr. Bergs said. “I’m on my way home but wanted you to have this liquid antibiotic. Shake it before you give it to her. It’ll last three days. Call me when you’ve finished and I’ll look at her again. Keep her quiet as possible, and give her plenty of fluids. She won’t have much of an appetite, but she’s going to have a black eye.”
“I called Beverly when we came in last night. Did you talk with her?”
“I did and then notified Howard McCardle’s group, to make it official.”
“Will the hospital feed Devi when she wakes, or should I fix her something at the day care?” Leefe tried to think of what she should ask. “Where did this infection come from? She was fine yesterday.”
“I never know with these kids because it’s rare to get more than just a look in ER. These families don’t come back for follow-ups. Come with me.” She handed her a child’s toothbrush, wrapped in plastic with a tiny tube of toothpaste. “I know you want to brush your teeth and wash your face.”
Leefe followed her down the hall to a private bathroom and splashed water on her face, finger-combed her hair, and brushed her teeth. By the time she got back, Devi was sitting up in bed, eating oatmeal, with a blue Cookie Monster doll sitting beside her on the pillow. Her face had been washed and her hair combed.
“Ms. Ellis,” she crowed. “Look. Oatmeal.” Devi slurped another bite. “See the eyes and nose? I ate the mouth.”
Leefe saw the smily face was melting butter with lots of brown sugar. There was a table by the cot with another bowl of oatmeal, toast, coffee, and a carton of milk.
“How do you feel?” Leefe said after several bites of her own food. Like Devi, she was a product of the system and never turned down food.
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