by Holly Jacobs
“Today was surgery, tomorrow’s office hours. I’ll have my partners juggle the patients that have to be seen, and I’ll have the receptionist reschedule the rest.”
In all the years since he’d started practicing medicine, he’d never missed a day. He’d hardly ever taken vacations. He loved his work to the point of excluding most everything else. Andy and Ralph were great partners. He’d stepped in when Ralph’s wife had their kids, and he never complained when Andy took time off to compete in marathons. The two of them kept assuring him that they understood this spring was hard, and they’d filled in without complaint. Now they’d hired Erik, it was even easier to manage.
Ralph had said that they all needed to remember to have a life, not only a career.
Finn had laughed off the notion until Bridget got sick.
Now, looking at Mattie and his niece, even if it had cost him his job, he’d be here. His family mattered most. “My partners will step up.”
“You’re doing this for me, not because you’re worried about Abbey. You’re worried that I’m going to have a small nervous breakdown.”
“Did Bridget ever tell you about the emergency call she made to me at 3:00 a.m. right after Mickey was born?”
Mattie shook her head. “No.”
“I drove like a maniac to Valley Ridge. Her louse of a husband was out....” He shrugged. Bridget’s ex played in a band and had frequently stayed out all night, or near to it, using the gigs as an excuse. “Mickey was crying miserably and she couldn’t figure out why. She was in tears. She said she’d managed Zoe, but obviously didn’t learn enough because something was wrong with Mickey. She insisted I do a full physical there and then.”
“Was something wrong?”
“Yes. I made an official diagnosis of exhausted new mother. Bridget was up all day with Zoe, and up all night with Mick.”
“And Alton wasn’t any help,” Mattie stated more than asked.
They’d never talked about Bridget’s ex, but it was obvious that Mattie shared his opinion of the man. And he used the term man in only the broadest, biological sense. “No, Alton wasn’t a bit of help. So I stayed the night, rocking Mickey while she got some sleep. I got Zoe breakfast the next morning. Cake.”
“Cake?” She sounded as outraged as Bridget had been.
He laughed. “Hey, if you think about it, it has a lot of very healthy ingredients.”
Her laughter joined with his. Oh, it was a tired, barely there sort of laugh, but it sounded sweet to him.
“Well, maybe...”
“I knew it would make your little health-conscious heart cringe,” he teased. Then, more serious, he took her hand in his and added, “Mattie, my sister had spent three years mothering Zoe, and she still worried. You’ve only been the kids’ caregiver for a few months. You’re doing a great job.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re suing me,” she snapped, then sighed again. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that. That’s only my fear making me snarky. Why don’t you find the doctor and we’ll get Abbey home.”
“Okay.” He brushed her hair back out of her eyes. His hand lingering on her brow. “It’s all going to be okay.” He was responsible for some of the anxiety he saw in her face. And not for the first time, he felt as lost as Mattie looked.
“Okay?” she repeated. “I don’t think so. Today has shown me that maybe you’re right. Maybe you should have custody. I didn’t know what to do. The ambulance driver wouldn’t let the other kids come, and Abbey needed me, so I left them, Finn. I left Zoe babysitting Mickey until my mom came over and got them.”
“Zoe’s eleven and perfectly capable of watching Mickey for the ten minutes it would take your mom, or someone else, to get there.”
Mattie shook her head. “No, it wasn’t okay. Bridget never let Zoe babysit. I never had a chance to outline what to do in an emergency, who to call. I left her. When I agreed to let her walk the kids home from school, we spent time playing what-if. I tried to give her tools for the responsibility. But this? I left her. I didn’t prepare her at all. And then there’s Abbey. I should have seen her temperature was spiking. Maybe if I’d given her a cool bath, or...” She shrugged. “You’d have known what was going on.”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have been there. I’d have been in surgery.” He realized as he said the words, they were honest. If he had custody of the kids and the school had called him to come get Abbey, he wouldn’t have left work. “I’d have been at the hospital or the office, and Abbey would have been with a sitter. The sitter would have got the call and collected her. I’d have waited to call home until I was out of surgery or whatever, just like I did with you. You were there, Mattie. You were there and I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have been around if she’d needed me.”
“So what you’re saying is we both suck at this?” Again, there was the smallest hint of a laugh.
“What I’m saying is, my sister made it look easy, but parenting is anything but. I think, given the circumstances, we’re doing the best that we can. I’ll go make arrangements.”
Finn talked to the doctor, had the prescriptions filled and had his niece checked out of the hospital.
Mattie was as quiet as the sleeping Abbey as he drove them both home. He wasn’t exactly loquacious, either. He couldn’t get around the fact that he was in surgery when Abbey needed him. If he took the kids home with him to Buffalo, there were very good odds he’d be at work during a lot of moments when they needed or wanted him around.
School activities.
Illnesses.
Heartbreaks.
The new partner had certainly lightened his load a bit, but no matter what, he’d miss things.
He glanced at Mattie, whose eyes were red-rimmed. She knew where her priority was. She’d simply shut down the coffee shop and gone to Abbey.
What the hell was he doing suing her for custody?
Was there some merit to her accusation that he sued for custody because he didn’t like to lose?
He’d like to say no. He’d like to think that of course he only had his nieces’ and nephew’s best interests at heart, but...
He pulled into the driveway. Mattie sprang out of the car. “Let me get her,” he said.
“I’ve got her.” Mattie woke up Abbey and somehow was able to carry her to the door.
He went ahead and unlocked it.
Rather than go upstairs, Mattie carried Abbey into the living room and gently placed her on the couch, which was already made up as a bed.
“Can I have a drink?” Abbey asked.
Mattie fussed with the pillows and blanket, then kissed Abbey’s forehead. “You can have anything you want.”
“Juice?” the little girl asked.
“I’ll get it.”
“Can I watch TV?”
Finn knew that Mattie didn’t normally allow television on school nights and he could tell from the glint in Abbey’s eyes she knew that as well and was pushing to see how far she could go.
Mattie handed his niece the remote control. “Just this once.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “Mattie, about what you said, about custody—”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I can’t talk about it now. I need to call and check on the other kids, and...”
He nodded. “Soon, but not tonight. Things have changed and... Soon. We’ll talk soon. Why don’t you call your mom.”
“Thanks. It’s so much easier, having you here,” she admitted.
He took Abbey her juice and realized that it was so much easier on him being here. Lately, he admitted, he’d been living for the weekends.
He’d never had trouble making work a priority, but as he sat next to Abbey, who seemed perfectly fine now, he knew that work was no longer his priority. It was important. He still loved it, but Abbey and her siblings were more important.
Mattie was more important.
He wasn’t sure how to deal with that. And for someone who’
d always known exactly what he wanted, this feeling of confusion was foreign to him. He didn’t like not knowing how to reconcile his wants and needs with the kids’...and with Mattie’s.
Finn Wallace didn’t have a clue what to do...and no, he didn’t like that at all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MATTIE TRIED TO sleep. She’d talked to Rich and he agreed to work her shift in the morning, so she didn’t need to think about that. Zoe and Mickey were having a sleepover at her mom and dad’s. Excitement didn’t even begin to describe Mickey’s state.
Abbey was sleeping. Mattie knew the little girl was sleeping because she was sitting in the rocking chair in her room watching her.
She needed to know Abbey was safe. Needed to be sure she didn’t wake up and need her. Even worse, needed to be sure she didn’t have another convulsion.
Finn took her temperature and proclaimed the medicine was working. Abbey still had a low-grade fever, but that was actually a good thing. Then he proceeded to lecture her about how fevers serve a purpose and help the body fight infections.
Mattie didn’t care if they had a purpose, she didn’t want Abbey to have one. She wanted her running around the house, chasing Bear and screaming at her siblings. She wanted her to crawl up on her lap and ask for a story.
Every time she looked at Abbey, she was reminded of Bridget and all the sleepless nights she’d watched over her friend.
She’d done her best, but Bridget had died anyway.
Her head knew that Bridget’s cancer was terminal, but her heart seemed to believe if she could love her enough and attended to her enough that somehow she would will her well.
Mattie got out of the chair and walked to the window. The street was dark. No one was moving.
These were the times when she missed Bridget the most. As Mattie looked at the slumbering world outside the window, she was struck that she couldn’t pick up a phone and call her friend Bridget...her sister of the heart.
She loved Lily and Sophie, and she was pretty sure that Bridget had engineered their friendship so that Mattie wouldn’t feel so alone, but it didn’t help. She loved them, but no one would ever replace Bridget.
She walked over to the bed and peered down at the girl. Abbey was still breathing.
Mattie returned to her chair and willed herself to doze at least.
But her mind turned to Finn and his cryptic comments on custody.
No matter what he’d said, he probably felt he had all the ammunition he needed now. Not only had she not shown the appropriate concern about Abbey’s sniffles, which she’d assumed was simply a cold or some similar bug, but she’d left Zoe babysitting Mickey.
Granted, he said it was the right decision. It was for less than a half hour, and it was either trust Zoe or abandon Abbey. But she should have called her mother right away. The moment the school called to say Abbey was sick, she should have asked her mom to come over. Her mom would have noticed that Abbey had not one, but two ear infections.
Or hell, she should have had Lily check on Abbey when she’d offered. Lily would have taken one look and known there was a problem. She would have told Mattie to get Abbey to the doctor’s right away.
Abbey hadn’t complained about her ears hurting, but her mother or Lily might have asked more questions—better questions. One of them could have headed this whole thing off, and if Abbey had still convulsed, then her mom would have been here to stay with the kids.
Mattie couldn’t sit, much less sleep. She got up to check on Abbey again.
Still breathing.
Gently she placed her hand on Abbey’s forehead. It felt a bit warm, but not hot like before.
Abbey didn’t need any more Tylenol or antibiotics.
She paced back to the window and stared at the dark street that so complemented her dark thoughts about what-ifs.
“Mattie?”
Finn stood behind her.
She’d been so lost in the what-ifs she hadn’t heard the door open or him enter the room.
Which meant that Abbey could need her and maybe she hadn’t heard. She turned to look at the little girl, and, as if sensing her thoughts, Finn said, “Shh. She’s all right. Right now it’s you that I’m worried about.”
“I’m fine. Just ducky.” Her voice broke and she felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked hard. She would not cry in front of Finn Wallace.
“You did everything right,” he whispered.
“No. I’m lost at this stuff. What if—”
“No.” He’d been louder, and switched back to a whisper. “You’re not going to play what-if. We’re going to deal with what-is. And what-is is that Abbey’s fine. What-is is Zoe and Mickey are fine and probably having the time of their lives. I’ll bet your mom let them have a sugary bedtime snack and stay up late for a school night.”
Mattie sniffed. She might not cry in front of Finn, but she couldn’t help the sniffling. “Probably.”
“What-is is that the kids are all okay. The way I see it, everyone’s fine. Everyone but you.” He held her close. “I know you consider everything I say suspect. I don’t blame you. Let’s face it—I’ve said a lot of stupid things recently. But this once would you trust me? Get some sleep. Abbey’s fine. You set up the old baby monitor, right?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“So, come on, let’s get you tucked in. She’s going to feel well enough tomorrow to keep you running. You need some sleep.”
He left Abbey’s door open and crossed the hall with Mattie. “In bed.”
“I can get myself in bed on my own,” she whispered.
“I’m going to tuck you in. Doctor’s orders.”
She laughed. “You think you can get your way by throwing around your medical degree?”
“Not most of the time, but tonight, yes.”
She crawled in between the covers. “You wanted to talk to me earlier?”
He shook his head. “Not now. Later. Now, I want you to go to sleep.”
“I don’t think I can. I can’t help but think about—”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “When I was little my mother would give me a dream.”
“Pardon?” she asked.
“I had horrible nightmares, and if I woke up after one, or couldn’t sleep because I was worried about the possibility of having one, she’d give me one of hers. So tonight, I’m going to give you a dream, too.” He lay down on top of the blankets, his head next to hers. “Now, close your eyes.”
“Finn, this is dumb.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just what the doctor ordered. Close them.” He carefully trailed a finger from her eyebrow down over her eyelids, forcing them to close.
Mattie thought about arguing, but decided it might be faster to simply humor him. She closed her eyes and snuggled under the blanket.
“Tell me your happiest place,” he said softly, his breath brushing against her cheek. She felt unexpected shivers climb her spine. “Someplace that makes you feel safe,” he continued.
Mattie almost said her parents’ home, but realized that while that was once true, it wasn’t anymore. The place that she felt the safest, the happiest, was right here in this house with the kids. But she didn’t want to tell him that. She didn’t want Finn to think she was saying it as some kind of volley in their legal battle. And maybe, saying it would say more than she was comfortable with, so she went with, “Valley Ridge.”
It was the truth, but not too much of the truth.
“Fine. The dream I’m going to give you is here in Valley Ridge. You and the kids. You head to Colton’s farm. The grapes are in and you can smell them, sweet and tangy at the same time. The corn is drying on the stalks and it rustles in the autumn breeze. Bear is running amok, and the kids are chasing him, laughing at his barks. You...”
He continued rattling off a dream, as if she were a child needing that kind of comfort. She snuggled closer, and lulled by his voice, the sound of Abbey breathing through the
baby monitor and the warmth of his body, she finally felt that ball of tension she’d carried since this afternoon unwind.
And she realized with even more clarity, that her happiest place was here.
To her consternation she knew it wasn’t only the town, the house or the kids...it was all of them, and Finn Wallace, too.
An image of Finn, driving the John Deere with Colton’s hat perched on his head flitted through her mind and she pushed the image aside.
This was not her cowboy hat moment.
* * *
FINN WISHED ADULTS WERE as resilient as children. Abbey sat at the kitchen counter looking almost completely well.
“Waffles,” she proclaimed, her breakfast choice clearly. “Aunt Mattie buys some for treats. And juice.”
He wasn’t sure where waffles stood on Mattie’s healthy food list, but he decided that after yesterday’s scare, she’d indulge Abbey in exactly the same way he planned to.
He opened the freezer and couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw the box of frozen waffles. The waffles were whole grain.
“They’re browner than the ones Mommy used to get, but they still taste good,” Abbey informed him. “Aunt Mattie, she don’t like white stuff...she likes brown. Brown bread. Brown rice. Brown waffles. She says you should eat lots of colors....”
He listened as Abbey regurgitated Mattie’s healthy food rules and he popped the frozen waffles in the toaster.
“I got brown waffles and orange juice. Maybe there’s some pink yogurt?” Abbey asked.
He opened the fridge and found strawberry yogurt and held it out for his niece to see and approve.
“Yeah, that’s it, Uncle Finn. That’s three colors. Three colors is good for a breakfast, right?” she checked.
“I’ll confess, I never thought about how many colors I could fit into a meal, but I think three might be a perfect number for breakfast.” Leave it to Mattie to take something like nutrition and turn it into a game. He’d have never thought of it.
Abbey looked pointedly at his cup. “You got coffee, and that’s brown. You need two more colors.”
He reopened the fridge and grabbed another yogurt. He held it aloft for her approval.