by Tina Beckett
Wasn’t it?
He swallowed, the words replaying in his head again and again. Evidently that “bath” had permanently messed something up in his skull. Was he actually thinking about taking on somebody else’s kids?
He forced his mind back to the mosquito-net conversation between Tracy and Daniel, which was still going strong.
Interrupting her, he said, “We haven’t been using nets either, Trace. It’s not dengue season anyway.”
“I know.”
He sensed she wanted to say something further, maybe even about their current situation, but Daniel’s presence made sharing any kind of confidences more complicated, if not impossible. And that went for any other kind of intimacies they might have shared in this room. Because with Daniel officially sprung from the infirmary, there was no possibility of that. But he would have liked to have talked to Tracy about…stuff.
Maybe even apologize for his actions four years ago.
“Will they still let me see Cleo?”
Surprisingly, Daniel had recovered faster than his sister, who would be in the infirmary for another day or so. And if he knew Tracy, she’d be sleeping in a chair next to the girl’s bed, in case Daniel’s absence made her jittery.
Tracy glanced at her watch. “I don’t see why not. It’s only seven o’clock. Curfew isn’t for another three hours.”
That was another thing. Yesterday, the military had suddenly instituted a curfew without warning. They’d said it was to prevent looting now that more people were recovering, but Ben had a feeling it had more to do with news being passed from person to person than anything else. Why prevent looting in a place they were planning to burn down?
No, it made no sense, other than the fact it was easier to keep an eye on folks during the daytime. If they imposed a curfew, they had more control over what went on after dark.
“Okay,” Daniel said, then hesitated. “Do you need me to help with anything else?”
Tracy shook her head and smiled at him. “No, just be back by ten—tell Cleo I’ll be there in a little while. And we’ll try to rustle up a snack before bedtime, okay? We need to build up your strength.”
The concern in her voice made Ben’s heart ache. Tracy would have been a good mother had her job not consumed her every waking moment.
Job or no job, though, his own behavior back then wasn’t something he was proud of.
It made him even more determined to set the record straight and see if they could make peace about the past. With Daniel sharing their room, he wasn’t sure when he’d get the chance. But he intended to try. The sooner the better.
* * *
Tracy glanced at the door as it closed behind Daniel. She was still having trouble processing what Ben had told her. They were going to burn the town down? Without letting anyone have a say?
What would happen to Daniel and Cleo if that happened? She’d hoped maybe someone here would be willing to take on the kids since places like Sao Joao dos Rios tended to be close-knit communities. But if they all were forced to scatter in different directions, the kids might end up in a slum or an orphanage…or worse.
“What are those kids going to do now, Ben?” She pulled her hair up into a loose ponytail and used the elastic she wore around her wrist to secure it in place. Her neck felt moist and sticky, despite the gusts of warm air the fan pushed their way from time to time.
“I don’t know.” He leaned down to the tiny refrigerator he’d brought from his lab and opened the door. Tossing her a cold bottle of water, he took one out for himself, twisting the top and taking a long pull.
Tracy paused to press her bottle against her overheated face, welcoming the shock of cold as it hit her skin. Closing her eyes, she rolled the plastic container along her cheek until she reached her hairline, before repeating the action on the other side. Then she uncapped the bottle and sipped at it. “There’s something to be said about cold water. Thanks.”
“No problem. How long do you think he’ll be?”
“Daniel?” She turned to look at him, suspicion flaring within her. “He’ll probably be a while. He and Cleo are close.”
“They certainly seem to be.”
Surely he wasn’t thinking about trying something in the boy’s absence. “Why did you ask?”
“What Daniel said made me think about their future, and I thought we could try to figure something out, especially if the military’s plans become a reality.”
“What can we do?”
“I’m not sure.” He scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Maybe one of the villagers could take the kids with them when they leave.”
“I thought about that as well, but I don’t see how. The whole town will be uprooted and scattered. Most of them will have to live with other people for a while, until they get back on their feet. Adding two more mouths to the equation…?” She took a quick drink.
“You know how these things work, Ben. The people here are barely scraping by. To lose their homes, their livelihood? The last thing they’ll be thinking about is two orphaned kids—no matter how well liked they are.”
And how was she going to walk away from them when the time came? How could she bear to look those children in the eye with an apologetic shrug and then climb into Ben’s car?
There was a long pause. Then Ben said in a low voice, “Ever since Daniel misunderstood what you meant, something’s been rattling around in my head.”
“Really? What?”
Before he could say anything, Daniel came skidding down the hallway, his face as white as the wall behind him. “Please, come. Cleo is sick. Really sick.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TRACY STROKED CLEO’S head, while Ben glanced at the readout. “Almost three hundred. No wonder she’s not feeling well.”
Her blood-sugar levels were sky-high.
“She’s mentioned having a headache on and off, but I thought it was because of the plague. I had no idea. Is she diabetic?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced at Pedro, who was standing near the head of the bed and had been the one to send Daniel to find them. “Did anyone notice her breath smelling off?”
A fruity smell was one sign of diabetes, and something one of them should have noticed.
Tracy bristled at his tone, however. “We’ve been fighting the plague for the last week and a half, Ben. We weren’t looking for anything else.”
“It wasn’t a criticism. Just a question. Would you mind calling Daniel back into the room?”
Poor Daniel. He’d been banished as they’d tried to assess a thrashing Cleo, who not only had a headache but stomach cramps as well. It had seemed to take ages for Ben to get the finger-prick. They’d need to get a urine sample as well to make sure the child’s body wasn’t flooded with ketones. Without enough insulin to break down sugar, the body would begin converting fat into energy. That process resulted in ketones, which could quickly grow to toxic levels.
Cleo had quieted somewhat, but she was still restless on her cot, her head twisting back and forth on the pillow.
The second the boy came into the room, Ben asked him, “Does your sister have diabetes?”
“Diabetes?” A blank stare was all he received. “Is it from this sickness we had?”
Of course he wouldn’t know anything about glucose levels or what too much sugar circulating in the bloodstream could lead to. Many of these people didn’t get regular medical care. And what they did get was confined to emergencies or critical illnesses. Surely if the girl had type-one diabetes, though, someone would have figured it out. “Could her glucose levels have been affected by the plague?” Tracy asked.
“Possibly. Serious illnesses can wreak havoc on some of those balances. Or maybe her pancreas was affected. The plague isn’t always confined the lungs. We’ll pray the change is temporary, but in the meantime we need to get some insulin into her and monitor her blood-sugar levels.”
“And if it’s not temporary?”
“Let’s take one thing at a
time.” Ben stripped off his gloves and tossed them, along with the test strip, into the wastebasket. “If the glucose doesn’t stabilize on its own, we’ll have to transport her somewhere so she can be diagnosed and treated.”
“The hospital in Teresina is good.”
Jotting something in a spiralbound notebook, he didn’t even look up. “But she doesn’t live in Teresina.”
“She doesn’t live anywhere. Not any more.”
Unfortunately, she’d forgotten that Daniel was in the room. He immediately jumped on her statement. “But I thought we were going to live with you.”
She threw Ben a panicked glance and was grateful when he stopped writing and came to the rescue.
“We’re still hammering out the details.”
Oh, Lord, how were they going to fix this? Hoping that one of the villagers would take the kids had already been a long shot. But if Cleo did have diabetes, it was doubtful if anyone from Sao Joao dos Rios would have the resources to take on her medical expenses.
She could offer to take the kids herself, but things in her life could change at any moment. Just that morning she’d faced that fact while staring in the mirror. She was going to have to do something about those test results—like sit down with a doctor and discuss her options. The more she thought about it, though, the more she was leaning toward a radical solution, a permanent one that would give her peace of mind once and for all. For the most part, anyway.
Maybe she could talk to Ben. Tell him what she was facing. And ask him if he would take the kids instead, at least on a temporary basis. Just until they figured out what was going on with Cleo.
And if he said no?
Then she had no idea what she was going to do. But one thing was for sure. She was not going to abandon Cleo. Not without doing everything in her power to make sure the girl was in good hands.
After they got a dose of insulin into her, they monitored her for the next two hours, until her blood-sugar levels began to decrease. An hour before curfew and knowing there would be little sleep to be had, Tracy asked Ben to walk with her to get a cup of coffee from the cafeteria, leaving Pedro and Daniel to stand watch. Several carafes were still on the buffet table, left over from the evening meal. Two of the pitchers even had some warm dregs left in them. Ben handed her a cup of the thick, black liquid and she spooned some sugar into hers to cut the bitter edge, while Ben drank his plain.
He made a face. “Not quite like I make at home.”
Tracy smiled. “You always did make great coffee.”
They wandered over to one of the tables at the back of the room. Ben waited for her to sit then joined her.
She nursed her cup for a moment before saying anything. “Do you think Cleo’s blood sugar is going to drop back to normal once she’s better?”
“I hope so.”
“Ben…about what Daniel said…” She drew a deep breath and then blurted it out. “Maybe you could take them.”
“Take them where? They don’t have family that we know of.”
Oh, boy. Something was about to hit that wheezy fan in the window behind her. But she had to ask. Had to try. “No, I mean maybe you could take them in for a while. Make sure Cleo gets the treatment she needs. It wouldn’t have to be permanent.”
Ben’s brows drew together, and he stared at her for several long seconds. “What?”
Once the words were out, there was no retracting them, and they just seemed to keep tumbling from her mouth. “You always said you wanted kids. Well, this is the perfect solution—you won’t even need a wife to birth them for you.”
“I won’t need a wife to…birth them?” His frown grew even stormier. “Is that how you felt about your pregnancy? That I was dooming you to be some type of brood mare? And our baby was just an inconvenience to be endured?”
“Oh, Ben, of course not. I wanted that baby as much as you did.” She set her coffee down and wrapped her hands around the cup. “There were just circumstances that… Well, it doesn’t matter now.”
“What circumstances?”
“I don’t want to talk about that. I want to figure out how to help these kids.”
“And your way of doing that is by asking someone else to take them on?” He blew out an exasperated breath. “What are they supposed to do while I’m at work? Cleo can’t monitor her own blood sugar.”
“Daniel is practically a teen. And he’s already displayed an enormous amount of responsibility. If she is diabetic, he could help.” She plowed ahead. “You’ve seen how well behaved they are. They could—”
“I can’t believe you’re putting this all on me, Tracy.” His fingers made angry tracks through his hair. “If you feel so strongly about it, why don’t you take them?”
She knew it was an illogical thought, but if she ended up having surgery, who would watch the kids while she was recovering? It wasn’t simply a matter of removing her breasts and being done with it. She wanted reconstruction afterwards. Each step of the process took time. Hospital time. Recovery time.
Both physical and emotional.
She decided to be honest as much as she could. “I can’t take them, Ben. If I thought there was any way, believe me, I’d be the first to step up to the plate. They beat the odds and survived the outbreak—when none of us thought they could—so it just doesn’t seem fair to abandon them to the system.”
“Said as if it’s a jail sentence.”
“Teresina is poor. I’ve seen the orphanages, remember? I was one of the physicians who helped care for those children when I lived there.”
“Let’s go for a walk.” He stood, collecting both of their half-empty cups. “I don’t want Daniel to come in and find us arguing over his fate.”
Fate. What a funny word to use. But it was true. What Ben decided right here, right now, would determine those kids’ futures. He could make sure Cleo got the treatment she needed. Even if this was a temporary setback, getting her glucose levels under control could take time.
Ben tossed the cups in the wastebasket and headed out the door, leaving Tracy to hurry to catch up with him.
“Won’t you at least consider it?” she asked, turning sideways as she walked next to one of several abandoned houses.
He blew out a rough breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say here, Tracy. I’ll have to think about it. It would help to know why you’re so dead set against taking them yourself.”
“I travel a lot. My career—”
“Don’t.” The angry throbbing of a vein in his temple showed how touchy a subject this was. “Don’t even play the travel card—you already know how I feel about that. Besides, I have a career too. So do millions of parents everywhere. But most of them at least want to spend a little time with their husbands and kids.”
Shock roiled through her. Was that how he’d seen her? She’d known he hadn’t like her traveling. Known it was because of how his parents had treated him and his brother, but hearing him say it outright hurt on a level it never had before.
“I did want to spend time with you.” Her voice was quiet when it came out.
She should have told him the truth, long ago. But when he’d sent the military after her as she’d been trying to figure out how to tell him about the test results, she’d felt hurt and betrayed. And terribly, terribly angry. Angry at him, angry about her mother’s death and angry that her future might not be the one she’d envisioned.
Maybe she’d turned a large part of that anger on Ben, somehow rationalizing that he didn’t deserve to know the truth after what he’d done to her. Convinced herself that she didn’t care what he thought—or that he might view her behavior through the lens of his childhood.
Abandoned by his parents. Abandoned by his wife.
What did that make her?
She closed her eyes, trying to block out the thought of Ben sitting alone at home night after night, while she’d tried to outrun her demons. “It’s okay. If you can’t take them, I’ll find someone else.”
“Who?”<
br />
“Pedro, maybe.”
The frown was back. “You’d really ask your assistant to take two kids that you’re not willing to take yourself?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s not that I’m not willing to. There are times I think about what our child might have looked like and I… Maybe I can take them for a while and then figure something else out.” She bit her lip, unable to control the wobble of her chin.
Ben took a step forward so she was forced to look up at him then brushed wisps of hair from her temples. His hands slid around to cradle the back of her head. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t take them. I just said I needed to think about it. So give me a day or two, okay?”
She nodded, her heart thumping in her chest as his touch chased away the regret and did strange things to her equilibrium. “Okay.”
“How do you do it?” He leaned down and slid his cheek across hers, the familiar coarseness of his stubble wrenching at her heart.
“Do what?”
“Talk me into doing crazy stuff.”
“I—I don’t.”
“No?” His breath swept across her ear, sending a shiver over her. “How about talking me into getting in that tub?”
Oh. He was right. She had been the one who’d invited him in. “Maybe it’s not me. Maybe it’s this climate. The heat messes with your brain.”
“Oh, no. This is all you. You mess with my brain.”
She didn’t know if he thought she messed with it in a bad way or a good way. She suddenly hoped it was good. That he remembered their life together with some fondness, despite the heartache she’d caused him.
His lips touched her cheek then grazed along it as he continued to murmur softly to her. “Tell you what. The kids can come live at the house—temporarily, until Cleo is better and we can find something else.”
She wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. She pulled away to look at him, although the last thing she wanted was for his mouth to stop what it was doing. “You’ll take them?”
“I think you missed the pronoun. I said ‘we.’”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not going to do this by myself. If Cleo’s condition doesn’t stabilize and this turns into full-blown diabetes, she’ll need to be transported back and forth to a specialist. Her insulin levels will need to be monitored closely at first.”