Fifteen
Colin Thomas sat in the back corner of the Starbucks attached to the Barnes & Noble book store fourteen blocks from his hotel. He'd quickly dropped $150.00 on books about parenting, and he slowly flipped through the first one as he sipped his espresso. It was well into the evening and the bookstore was quiet, as was the coffee shop.
The concierge had given him directions to the store, as Colin had stood patiently waiting.
“A book lover,” the older gentleman had said, as he quickly jotted the directions on a small slip of paper.
“I'm adopting a child. I need to read everything I can about it,” Colin had responded, surprised to hear himself make the admission.
Caitlin would have called it “telling the universe”, and wherever she was, he imagined she still did.
“Tell the universe,” she'd say. “Tell it what you want. I want to write a bestseller,” she'd once said, standing in the front window of her apartment, staring out at a Brooklyn morning.
Not with the shit in that first book, he thought, and then chastised himself for thinking it.
Sitting in the coffee shop, Colin could hear her words in his head, and they were so loud, and so clear, that he wouldn't have been surprised to turn around and see her standing behind him.
Instinctively, he turned. There was no one behind him. He took his laptop from his briefcase, and opened it on the table in front of him. Quickly he checked his email, but found no response from his lawyer friend.
“Shit,” he whispered.
Colin knew he faced a lot of legalese in the process of adopting Mia, or at least assuming guardianship, and he doubted any of the books in the bag on the chair beside him would clearly explain the process. What the hell am I doing? He was nearing forty and was a workaholic who didn't have time for a gold fish. He couldn't sustain a relationship for more than a few months, with the exception of Caitlin, and he'd blown that one all to hell. He had no parenting skills, and was about to become a father to a child he barely knew. What the hell was he doing? He checked the laptop again. Still no email. He doubted the email would tell him much about being a father, and suddenly he wasn't sure he could learn how from any book. He supposed he'd have to take it one day at a time. He wanted to call Caitlin, and before he could stop himself, he reached for his phone and flipped it open. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't just call Cate and ask her for advice about becoming a father. She'd probably hang up on him, with good reason. Even if he were brave enough to call her, which he wasn't, he certainly couldn't open with a line like that. She'd probably reach through the phone and punch him, if such a thing was possible, and for that level of stupidity, it just might be. Who could he call? He punched in the numbers for his answering service, and as he hoped, Caren answered on the first ring. He wondered for a moment if she ever went home. Hadn't she been there at the crack of dawn?
“Caren, it's Colin, how are you?” he asked, and he heard her sigh. He knew how she was.
“I'm here, Colin. Nothing to report,” she replied.
“That's good to know. Caren, do you ever go home?” he asked, although it was none of his business.
“I covered for someone this morning. This is my regular shift. Besides, I don't have anything to go home to,” she added, sadly.
“I'm sorry, Caren.”
“Yeah, Doc. Me, too. Anyway, what can I do for you? Did you call her?” she asked, and he chuckled.
“No, and that's not why I'm calling.”
“Well, then why don't you tell me why you are, before an emergency springs up on my other line.”
“I'm not sure how to ask this.”
“Just ask.”
“How much do you dislike your job?” he asked, and he could almost picture her expression.
“What's the scale?” she asked, with a slight laugh.
“Say, one to ten.”
“One hundred fifty seven,” she said, and he returned the laugh. “Is this off the record?”
“Off anyone's but mine. Can we keep it off the record?” he asked.
“Your secret's safe with me,” she said.
“Good to know. My secrets aren't usually safe with anyone,” he said. “Caren, I have a patient. Her mother is dying of AIDS. It's happening fast. Her father has also passed from AIDS. The mother has no one, Caren, no one.”
“How sad,” Caren said sympathetically.
“I know. This woman's dying wish is to find a home for her daughter. I've offered to adopt her,” Colin said softly. Caren said nothing, and he sat for a moment, listening to the silence. “Caren?”
“I don't know what to say,” she said in a soft voice.
“Say what you're thinking.”
“I'm not sure it's my place.”
“I just made it your place by telling you my decision and asking for your opinion.”
“Have you thought this through?” Caren asked.
“Would it sound crazy if I said I always knew I had some connection to this child?”
“No. But that being said, are you sure about this?”
“More sure than I've ever been about anything.” Except my love for Caitlin.
“I trust you,” she said, and he smiled. “So, I have to ask why you called me. There must be someone closer to you that you could confide in.”
Not anymore. “I'm calling because I..., I wondered if you've considered becoming a nanny again?” Colin stammered, anticipating her answer.
“Every minute of my life,” she replied, and he felt himself relax.
“Would you consider working for me?” he asked.
“Yes. When would you need me, Colin? I don't love this job, but I'd need to give them a reasonable amount of notice.”
“I understand, Caren. Well.........,” he said, uncertain of how to respond.
“I asked that, didn't I?” Caren said, through a slight groan.
“It's okay. I would have asked the same thing,” Colin said. “I would think you'd need to start fairly soon. I can work around your schedule, and I have a lot of time coming if I need to take it. Doctor Burns is the mother's physician. He told her just this past Friday that she'd have to be hospitalized soon. There isn't anyplace else for her daughter to go when that happens.”
“I'm still not sure what to say. Are you sure about this? I don't mean to sound cavalier about this woman's situation, or her little girl, but I can't just quit this job.”
“I understand, Caren. I'm sure. I've made my decision.”
“Okay. I'll talk to the service. Why don't you call me when you get back.”
“I will. You think I'm nuts, don't you?”
“I think it's unusual.”
“It's an unusual situation.”
“Aren't you crossing the line?” Caren asked, choosing her words carefully.
“I've already crossed it with this one. I don't quite get it myself, Caren, but something is telling me I have to do this, as if everything in my life has led me to this place so I can be here for this little girl,” he said.
He was surprised by his own words, and more than anything he wanted to call Caitlin and tell her what he was doing. Colin heard a distinct ringing, the sudden noise interrupting his thoughts.
“Colin, I'm so sorry. I have to go. My other line is ringing.”
“Okay, Caren, and thank you. I'll call you as soon as I know more. Remember, this is all off the record,” he reminded her, although this time he suspected he didn't have to ask.
“Off the record. Have a good night, Colin. I'll talk to you soon. I'm proud of you,” she added, and Colin heard her disconnect the call.
He set the phone aside, and picked up his espresso. He was proud of himself. Although he hated the reason why it was all happening, he couldn't help but smile. He felt confident he was a good doctor, but he suddenly felt as though he was more than that. For the first time in a long time, he felt like a good man. He felt at peace with his decision, although he was terrified. He thought of Rosario, imagined her fea
r, and felt the familiar pain of heartbreak. He would be a good father, for Mia, and for her mother, whose only concern as she faced death was for the child she'd leave behind.
He sat quietly, pondering his life as he rarely did. He'd always felt his life had purpose, but suddenly he felt as though his life had meaning. Meaning was more important.
Sixteen
Caitlin Goodrich stood at the window looking out at the clear morning. Liz Parker had slept in the ICU waiting room. Rita, who had been back and forth to the ICU a dozen times, finally dozed in a chair beside Caitlin's bed. The nurses had brought the babies thirty minutes before, and Rita had not stirred. The room was filled with the soft sound of the television, Rita's rhythmic breathing, and an occasional coo from the twins who slept peacefully in their tiny beds. Miraculously Ella Simons had survived the night, and Caitlin paused for a moment and closed her eyes, silently thanking God for the small miracle that had been bestowed upon them.
“Cate, what time is it?” Rita asked, and Caitlin turned with a start.
“It's just before 8:00,” Caitlin whispered.
“I can't remember what time I came back.”
“Just past 6:00.”
“Were you up?”
“No, but I heard you come in.”
“Have you heard anything from Liz?” Rita asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
“Yes. Ella is still hanging on.”
“Oh, thank God,” Rita said, standing and stretching. She massaged her left shoulder with her right hand, and winced against the tension that had settled there. It had not been an easy few days.
“I just did,” Caitlin said softly, as Hannah awoke with a sharp cry.
“May I?” Rita asked, crossing the room to stand beside the tiny crib.
“Of course, Grandma,” Caitlin said, smiling at Rita. “Mom?” Caitlin said, and Rita felt her pulse quicken. She knew what was coming.
“Hmm?” Rita said, sitting down with the baby.
“What's going on?”
“With what, Cate?”
“Don't be coy.”
“Sorry,” Rita said, showering the baby's tiny face with kisses.
“Mom, come on,” Caitlin began. “Is something going on with you and Liz, or with Ella?”
“Well, obviously,” Rita said, sounding slightly annoyed. She hoped the annoyance in her voice would quiet the fear she was certain her daughter could hear there.
“Something other than the obvious,” Caitlin said, sitting on the bed, her eyes never leaving Rita's face.
“Something happened a long time ago, Cate.”
“And this has something to do with me?” Caitlin asked.
“In a roundabout way,” Rita said, sounding more casual than she felt.
“Mom, jeez. Could you be more vague?” Caitlin asked with a scowl.
“Probably, now that you mention it.”
“Oh, you infuriate me!” Caitlin barked, as her doctor walked into the room.
“How's everyone?” he asked, and Caitlin smiled.
“We're good,” she said, and he returned the smile.
“And the breastfeeding, how is that going?” he asked.
“Not that well. I'm not sure who's not getting it, me or them,” Caitlin responded.
“Well, let me send the nurse in later on, and we can talk about some formula alternatives, if you're more comfortable with that. I think these guys are ready to go home,” he added, and Caitlin gasped.
“Go home?” she said, sounding frightened.
“Well, you did realize you'd eventually go home, right?” the doctor asked, sounding amused.
“Yes, of course,” Caitlin said with a weak smile, although she sounded tense.
“I can't go home with you,” Rita mumbled, and Caitlin just stared at her.
“Mom, you promised!” Caitlin said, sounding frightened again.
“Cate, everything has changed,” Rita said defensively.
“Oh God, you're right. What do we do?”
“I'm going to leave you two young ladies to figure this out,” the doctor said, before disappearing into the hall.
“Mom.....,” Caitlin groaned. “I counted on your help,” she whined, feeling guilty about the words the moment she'd spoken them.
“You can come home with me,” Rita said, bracing herself for the fallout.
“To New Hope? Jeez, Mom, are you trying to kill me?” Caitlin said with a sigh.
“I have to be in the shop, Cate. Everything's changed. There's plenty of room. You can stay in your old room, and the babies can stay right there with you. You might find it would be nice to get away. Besides, it's not like it's another world. It's Pennsylvania, Caitlin, less than two hours away.”
“It feels like another world. What about Georgie, and all the stuff?”
“Georgie is welcome in my home, and as for the stuff, maybe Noonie can get it. He's a good boy, Cate. I'm sure he would help.”
“He's a man now, Mom, and he wants to be called Nathan,” Caitlin said, rolling her eyes. It actually sounded like a good idea, but she was hesitant to say so. Finally, she did. “I guess it would work,” Caitlin said in little more than a whisper.
“I'm sorry, did you say something?” Rita asked, looking smug.
“Yeah, I said I guess it would work,” Caitlin admitted with resignation.
“Okay then. I'm going to leave you to be a mother, and go downstairs for a minute, and then up to see Liz. If Nathan isn't here yet, I'll give him a call.”
“Are you walking out the door in that?” Caitlin asked in horror, staring at her mother's choice of garments.
“What's wrong with it?” Rita asked. Her misshapen smock was even more wrinkled than it had been the night before, and her patchwork jeans were splattered with what appeared to be paint.
“What exactly is it?” Caitlin asked, and Rita laughed.
“I picked it up in a thrift store. I'm not sure what it is. I suppose it's a dress, but I like it with the pants. Don't you?”
“Yeah, Mom. It's terrific. Look, if the fashion police stop you and you only get one call, you know the phone number, right?”
“Yes, Caitlin.”
Caitlin watched as Rita plopped a knit cap on her head, only adding to the already outrageous fashion faux pas. Rita winked at her daughter, and Caitlin laughed.
“Your grandma's crazy,” Caitlin whispered to her daughter, after Rita had disappeared into the hallway. Caitlin pulled the baby to her shoulder, and rocked her gently, as she returned her attention to the world outside her window. She was going back to New Hope, back to where she'd grown up, and left most of her hopes and dreams, at least the early ones. The later ones she'd lost when Colin left, and the future ones were left to be discovered. Caitlin felt surrounded by secrets, and she longed for answers to the questions haunting her. The questions seemed to stem from something that happened in New Hope. And so, Caitlin would search for the answers there.
Seventeen
By 6:00 A.M., Colin Thomas was up and dressed, and sitting at the table near the window in his hotel room. He'd opened the drapes, but the world beyond his window was dark. He looked at the laptop in front of him, and carefully read the words he'd written the previous day. He wasn't sure of the speech. It looked more like a series of unfinished thoughts, and as he imagined sharing them with his esteemed colleagues, he felt like a frightened kid. Despite his discomfort, he felt confidence in what he'd written, in the emotion of his words, and he knew he was on to something. He didn't want to talk about AIDS, not the way he normally did. He didn't want to speak of the science of the disease, or what it had done to Rosario Mariposa, physically. He wanted to speak about the emotion of it, the duress of it, and how it impacted not only the patient, but their families as well.
He wanted to call Caitlin. He felt a desperation to hear her voice that despite his heartbreak, he'd rarely felt. He needed her, and it was hard for him to admit. He closed his eyes and pictured her face, surrounded by the blond hair he could
still feel in his fingers. He imagined her in the apartment they'd once shared, sipping coffee, as the sun rose in all its magnificence over Brooklyn. God, how he missed her. She was the voice in his head, the voice he couldn't quiet no matter how hard he tried.
He pictured Mia, the beautiful child he would soon share his life with, and for once, he didn't feel the pain when he thought of her mother. He couldn't change what was happening to Rosario, no matter how much he'd be willing to, if only things were different. But, they weren't. Mia deserved a family, and not just him, although he knew he'd be a good father to the little girl. He would give her what she needed in life, and she'd bring a meaning to his life he'd never known, and while that might be enough, she deserved more. She deserved a mother, and he knew Caitlin would be wonderful with her. He checked the time, and then bravely, he opened the phone and scrolled through the list of saved numbers. Before he could change his mind, he chose one he'd dialed hundreds of times. The phone rang twice, and he heard the call connect. He had no idea what he'd say. Before he could decide, his call went to voice mail.
“Shit,” he said, as he listened to her voice.
You've reached Caitlin Goodrich. I'm going to be away for a few days, and Georgie can't come to the phone. Please leave a message at the tone, or call my cell phone. Thanks for calling us, and make it a day to remember.
Colin listened to her even, melodic voice, and suddenly he realized he'd heard the tone, and he fumbled as he began to speak.
“Cate, it's Doctor Thomas.” He exhaled sharply through a weak chuckle. “It's Colin. I'm in California, and I was thinking about you. Honestly, I've been thinking about you a lot lately, and I just wanted you to know that. I really miss you, and I hope you're okay...........” Colin paused for just a moment before adding three more words. “I love you.”
***
Four hours later, Colin Thomas stood at the doorway of the conference room after addressing his colleagues. They were beginning to file out, and he anxiously awaited their reactions. They'd applauded, for he was a leader in his field. Despite that, Colin still felt uneasy as he watched them approach. Had they applauded because it was respectful, or because they'd actually found some credibility in the words he had spoken? He was about to find out. The first to approach him was a doctor from Seattle he had known for years. The older gentleman extended his hand, and the smile he flashed Colin reached his eyes. Immediately, Colin relaxed. It seemed he had done it. He had taken a more human approach to treating disease and it had been well received.
The House of Roses Page 9