Take the Lead

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “Yep,” Gwen answered, sounding and looking better than she had just the day before. “It’s almost eleven. That’s late for you.”

  “I had surgery first thing,” he said as he approached Gwen’s bed. He knew either Marissa or Dee would be joining them to go over Gwen’s vitals, but he wanted to get a sense of how she was doing before diving into the specifics of her health. “How are you feeling today, Gwen?”

  She shrugged. “Okay.” After giving Traci a sideways glance, she said, “Better, I guess.”

  “Better is good. Marissa told me a bit about your bloodwork when I passed by the station. You’re improving, Miss. I’m glad about that.”

  Gwen shifted, used the remote on the bed to help her get into a sitting position. “Officer Lucky says that I should be grateful to be stuck here.”

  “What do you think?”

  She paused. “I don’t know.” As if she could tell that Traci wasn’t happy with her honesty, Gwen added, “I mean, I’m grateful for the shower and the three meals and all, but I kind of feel like I just got a lucky break.” She winced. “No pun intended, Officer.”

  “None taken,” Traci murmured.

  Fighting off a smile, Matt said, “But . . .?”

  “But, I don’t know what to do about it.” She shifted uncomfortably. “This isn’t my home, you know? Not that I really have a home or anything.”

  “Of course the hospital isn’t your home, but no one has expected it to be. Just take things one step at a time,” Traci said in a brisk tone. “I’ve told you that.”

  Gwen looked at the police officer for the first time. “But I’m still gonna have to leave, right?”

  Sensing that their conversation wasn’t anything new, or anything productive, Matt said, “Let’s start with the easy stuff then. What’s been going on with the baby? Have you felt him move?” They’d done a sonogram the previous night and discovered that she was twenty-three weeks along and, though too small, the baby was otherwise surprisingly healthy. They had also learned that she was having a boy.

  She placed a hand on her stomach. “I did. I mean, I do.” Looking almost happy, Gwen said, “He seems like he’s doing okay.”

  “You’re having a boy?” Traci’s look of wonder was adorable.

  “Yeah. Go figure, huh?”

  Dee popped in with Gwen’s chart. “You ready, Dr. Rossi?”

  Feeling a little bit like Traci had looked when he’d first stepped in, Matt said, “I’m ready. Will you excuse us, Traci?”

  She was already on her feet. “Sure.” After darting another look at Gwen, the corners of her mouth turned down. “You know what? I might just go—”

  “Stay if you don’t mind, okay?” Matt interrupted. “I’ll be out in ten.”

  “All right.” Pausing at the door, she said, “Gwen, you keep getting better. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  After Traci left, Gwen relaxed a bit. “She kind of scares me sometimes.”

  It was all Matt could do not to burst out laughing. He knew what Gwen met. Traci was a pint-sized fireball, for sure. “I don’t think she means to be scary.”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged like she wasn’t sure what to think about that.

  Matt studied the charts and watched as Dee took Gwen’s pulse and blood pressure. “It looks like your body needed some rest, young lady. It’s responding really well to the hydration and meals.”

  Gwen looked away. “I’ve had the shakes but it hasn’t been that bad.”

  “That should get better as you get healthier.”

  “I hope so.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better. I haven’t slept so much in months.”

  He skimmed the nurses’ notes. Noticed that Gwen had eaten every bit of all of her meals and had indeed, been spending most of her time sleeping. Not only was that good for her and the baby, but he took it as a positive sign that she hadn’t been as hooked on drugs as he’d first thought. If her addiction had gotten really bad, she would have been going through withdrawal instead of being able to eat, drink, and sleep.

  He needed to get a social worker involved, but in the meantime, he intended to keep her safe and healing.

  “Gwen, I’m going to recommend that we keep you here until at least Wednesday.”

  “Two more days.” Her voice was flat.

  “I don’t know if we’ll have much luck keeping you longer than that. Do you have anywhere to go when you’re released?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Anywhere you want to go? Are you in touch with the baby’s father?”

  “No.”

  “And the place where you were staying?”

  “I just kind of ended up there. I . . . Well, I don’t know how to describe things. I wasn’t exactly staying there because I was happy, Doc.”

  “I contacted Melanie Pendry this morning, Doctor,” Dee said.

  “Who’s Melanie?” Gwen asked.

  “She’s the social worker assigned to the hospital.”

  “I don’t need a social worker.”

  “You certainly do. You need as many people as possible on your side.”

  When Gwen merely frowned, he turned back to Dee and gave her instructions to continue the IV drip and to monitor Gwen’s blood pressure.

  “Yes, doctor,” Dee said as she walked out.

  Sensing that Gwen was feeling even more confused, Matt walked to Gwen’s side again. “I’ve never had a baby, but I’ve delivered dozens and I can tell you this. The world’s a tough place.”

  “I know that.”

  “In that case, I’m sure you know that he’s going to need you, Gwen. You owe it to him and to yourself to get into a better situation. I need you to be with me on this.”

  Gwen bit her lip and nodded.

  Realizing that he wasn’t going to get more of a promise than that, Matt nodded back and walked out to the hall. To his relief, Traci was still there, looking uneasy but determined.

  Yes, they needed to talk about Gwen Camp, but that wasn’t the only reason he wanted to see her.

  Not by a mile.

  CHAPTER 3

  “When a body moves, it’s the most

  revealing thing. Dance for me a minute,

  and I’ll tell you who you are.”

  —Mikhail Baryshnikov

  Monday

  Traci stood up the minute she spied Matt walking toward her in the hall. “How is Gwen doing?”

  “Hanging in there. I’m going to keep her until Wednesday. I don’t know if I’ll be able to swing any longer than that.” He looked frustrated about it.

  She thought he should be pleased, though. Because of his concern, Gwen and her baby had received great care—badly needed medicine, food, and rest. They were doing much better than when Traci had first brought her into the emergency room. “Hey, that’s huge. Wonderful.”

  “It’s . . . good.” His voice sounded as cautious as his words.

  “No, by Wednesday, she’ll have been here almost a full week.” She smiled. “You must be a miracle worker.”

  His cheeks turned a little ruddy. “Hardly that. You know how it is. At least we’re moving in the right direction. After our last conversation, I went ahead and got a meeting scheduled with Melanie Pendry. She’s one of our best social workers on site. Have you met her?”

  “Not personally, but the name sounds familiar. I’ll ask Dylan if he knows her.”

  “Good. I like her. She doesn’t give up.”

  Traci’s eyes lit up again. “Neither do you. A lot of people, um, they don’t always go above and beyond like you do. Thanks.”

  “I could say the same for you. You not only coaxed Gwen to come to the hospital, you escorted her, and then continued to visit every day. If not for you, that girl could’ve easily be
en forgotten.”

  “You’re making it sound harder than it was. She wasn’t actually kicking and screaming. I think she wanted to get help.”

  “She might have wanted help, but she was also complaining loudly and pulling at your arm.” He laughed at her look of dismay. “Yeah, more than one person was talking about the way you shuttled that girl through the waiting room last Thursday.”

  Yep, no doubt she had created a bit of a scene. Feeling even more uncomfortable, she looked away. “Bossing her around wasn’t exactly my proudest moment.”

  He grinned. “It was awesome. I promise.”

  “If I can get her someplace safe when she gets out of here, that would be awesome. I hope the social worker can help.” She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she was fairly sure that Gwen was keeping something from her. Traci hoped that she wasn’t actually thinking about going back to the loser she’d been with. As much as it didn’t make sense, some women couldn’t seem to stay away from what they knew. It was safer than the unknown.

  “Hey, I’ve got about thirty minutes before I need to get to the office. Want to catch a cup of coffee?”

  “Really? You have time for that?”

  He glanced at his phone as if he needed to make sure. “I’ve got a little more than hour before I begin office visits. I always have time for coffee.”

  “Funny you should say that, because I kind of feel the same way.”

  “So, what do you say?”

  “Sure.” She smiled before getting her bearings again. It wasn’t like it was a date. They were talking about his patient, her albatross.

  “Have you ever been down to the Mill?”

  “Yep. It’s my favorite.”

  “Mine, too. Come on.”

  * * *

  Matt led Traci down the labyrinth of halls toward the east entrance. She kept up his pace but didn’t talk as they walked. Instead, she seemed content to take in her surroundings. It didn’t seem like anything went unnoticed. He wondered if that was a cop thing or a Traci thing.

  “What?” she asked him, disrupting his thoughts.

  “Hmm?”

  She shrugged. “You’re looking at me.”

  “I was just thinking that you’re really observant. And it’s obviously true, since you noticed me looking at you.” Deciding he might as well tell her everything, he added, “Actually, I was wondering if you learned that as a cop or if it was something in your DNA.”

  She thought about it before answering. “Probably a little bit of both. I’ve always needed to have a pretty good feeling for my surroundings. It’s come in handy with my line of work.”

  “I guess so.” He held the door open for her as they walked outside and got belted with a burst of hot air. “Ah, Cincinnati in spring,” he joked.

  Their town of Bridgeport lay just to the north of Cincinnati. Traci had slowly been coming to learn that the climate in the southern part of the state was far different than the northern. “It’s taking me some getting used to.”

  “How come?”

  “I was up in Cleveland. We had heat, but nothing like this. I might as well be in the South now, you know?”

  “Nah. We might be just over the river from Kentucky, but our summers have nothing on the folks further south. That’s like living in a sauna.”

  “Are you from the South and I didn’t catch the accent?”

  Matt knew she was joking since he was sure didn’t have the slightest hint of a drawl. “Ha-ha. No, just went to medical school in Nashville and did my residency in Kentucky. I’m from the west side of Cincinnati.”

  “And here you are in a little place like Bridgeport.”

  “Yep.” Thinking about all the factors that had weighed in his decision, Matt said, “I wanted to start a practice where I could get to know my patients. Someplace where I would get to help women start their families, and then check in with them over the next twenty years.”

  “You really care about your patients, don’t you?”

  “Yep. I’m not jaded yet.” Hoping to lighten the conversation, he said, “Plus, my mom would probably box my ears if I said anything less. I grew up with three sisters, you know.”

  “Wait a minute, there are four of you?”

  “It’s worse than that. I’m one of six. I have two older brothers, too.”

  “Your mother had six kids? Wow.”

  “It’s not so impressive. The Rossi’s are a big Italian, Catholic family. Just like practically every other family on our street,” he said as they walked into the Mill. They placed their orders, and after refusing to take Traci’s money, Matt paid and then guided them to a table in the corner. The barista promised to deliver their coffees in a few minutes.

  “Do any of your siblings still live nearby?” Traci asked, picking up their conversation just as if they hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes getting settled.

  “Every one of them does.” As much as he grumbled about their interfering habits, Matt knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. “We all get together on Sunday nights for supper.”

  “All of you?”

  “Yep. My mom makes a big pot of spaghetti, and we catch up. It’s pretty terrific.”

  “I bet.” She smiled, but there was something else in her tone too. It sounded almost like wistfulness.

  Their drinks were delivered, plain lattes for each of them. As he watched Traci take a tentative sip, smile, then take a longer one, Matt knew he wanted to know her even better. Anyone who took so much pleasure in something so simple was someone he wanted to learn about. In addition, he liked seeing her out of uniform. Today she had on a pair of faded jeans and a dark-green button down. She’d probably say it wasn’t anything special, but he had noticed that both pieces fit her well. “What about you?”

  “Me? Well, I don’t have anything like that. When I was a toddler, my mom gave me and my sisters up for adoption. The social workers and the agency separated us, so I grew up without siblings.”

  He still couldn’t believe things like that used to happen. “I bet that was hard.” The moment he said that, he wished he could take it back. He had a feeling ‘hard’ was putting it mildly.

  “For her? I have no idea.” She shrugged. “I guess it was,” she allowed after a slight hesitation. “I don’t remember it though. I was little more than a baby. My sister Kimber wasn’t even a month old. Even our sister Shannon, who was over a year, doesn’t have any memories of that time.”

  Anxious to find a silver lining in a heartbreaking story, he said, “Did you see them much when you were growing up?”

  “I didn’t see them at all. I had no idea that I even had sisters until Shannon discovered it through one of those DNA tests you can take at home and search for relatives online. She contacted me out of the blue.”

  “And then?”

  “And then, after almost a year of corresponding and talking on the phone, we decided to live together for a year, so we could all get to actually know one another. Kimber and I decided to move to Bridgeport because Shannon was opening up her dance studio here.”

  Gaping at her, he leaned back in his chair. “That’s quite a story.”

  “Well, it’s a story.” Staring intently at the paper cup, she continued. “Shannon, Kimber, and I all grew up really differently. But, we each became people to be proud of.”

  “You should be proud. You’re a great person.”

  Traci laughed. “You hardly know me. But thank you. I did all right, considering how I started out in life.”

  It was obvious now that she’d faced some challenges. Matt was curious about what they could be, but he wasn’t sure whether he should ask for more details.

  He didn’t want her to feel like she was being interrogated when all he wanted to do was get to know her better. But, Traci didn’t seem especially guarded, so he pushed forward. “You said you
all grew up differently. How was it different?”

  She smiled. “Shannon was in a small town in West Virginia and has a sweet country accent. Kimber grew up in New York, just outside the city.” She paused. “I grew up in a group home in Cleveland.”

  “You were never adopted?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m sorry.” This was about to go down in history as the worst “first date” conversation ever. Why hadn’t he stuck to something safer—like movies or her job?

  Her eyes widened. “Don’t be. It made me what I am. And it wasn’t horrible. But, it did make me more aware of how critical the consequences can be for someone like Gwen, though.”

  “How so?”

  “My mother took drugs when she was pregnant with me. I was born an addict.”

  He’d delivered babies who were born addicted to drugs. They were usually criers; some had trouble nursing, and others never slept. Some went their whole lives with the effects. Traci didn’t seem to be one of them, though.

  “That’s why you’re so concerned about Gwen.”

  “Yeah. Well, I was more concerned about her baby,” she corrected. She winced. “Sorry. I know how that sounds.”

  It did sound harsh, but it also made her seem human. It took a strong person to admit their true feelings.

  Now that he’d heard part of her story, Matt knew his interest in her was only going to grow from here. Traci Lucky was a maze of fascinating contradictions, and he was intrigued by each one of them.

  All he had to do was find a way to see her again.

  CHAPTER 4

  “The Waltz is all about protection.

  It’s a dance that says I have you in my arms

  my dear. Everything is right in the world.”

  —Fred, Call the Midwife

  Monday

  She had until Wednesday. Roughly forty-eight hours until she was put in some home or room by a social worker, and then she’d be on her own again.

  No, she’d be at Hunter’s mercy.

  And that would be exactly what it was, too—her at her crazy ex-boyfriend’s mercy. Not that he actually possessed any.