Jack still doubted his decision but he knew he had to be with Susan now. He would never forgive himself if he wasn’t with her when the end came. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Brooks. I’ll call you as soon as I can,” he called out to her as he climbed hurriedly into the back of the ambulance.
Ida watched the ambulance speed away before turning to go back to her own house to get her keys. She shifted the baby to her other hip and locked her front door. The baby pulled at Ida’s gray curls and cooed. “Oh, yes,” Ida smiled and kissed the baby’s nose. “We’re going to be just fine, aren’t we, precious?”
Ida began the short walk toward the Peterson’s yard. She watched as several neighbors slowly made their way back to their own homes. One of them waved to Ida and yelled out, “Do you need any help?”
Ida shook her head and waved back, “We’re fine…” She felt another tug on her gray curls. She looked down at the beautiful baby she held against her. “Are you trying to tell me something, little one? Are you hungry? I bet you are, yes I do… let’s go get you a bottle.”
The baby looked back at Ida with the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She smiled and cooed in response to Ida’s gentle voice.
Ida took that as an affirmation to her question. She patted the baby’s bottom and laughed when the baby reached and tweaked Ida’s nose. “Oh, and I dare say we need to check that diaper, too, little one!” she laughed as she slowly made her way between the two yards to her neighbor’s front door.
Max stood in front of his grill, turning the bacon and sausages with one hand, and stirring the huge pot of cheese grits with his other hand. Suddenly, he stopped. A slow smile began to spread across his face. He leaned his head back and looked upward at the same moment that Ida Brooks sat down on the couch to feed Kelly Peterson her morning bottle. “Well… finally… the time has come,” he sighed. His smile broadened and he began whistling - out of tune, as usual - one of his favorite hymns, “Just a Closer Walk With Thee.”
Amanda poked her head into the kitchen and grinned. “Hey, I know that one!” She began singing the words along with Max’s whistling tune.
It only took a few verses before the customers in the dining area joined in. “Just a closer walk with Thee, grant it, Jesus, is my plea. Daily walking close to Thee, let it be, dear Lord, let it be…”
CHAPTER 35
Death Rush to Hospital
Jack hated hospitals. He appreciated the often thankless job the doctors and nurses performed on a daily basis, and he had the utmost respect for the work they did; however, he often wished that they could have performed their duties in his home instead of the sterile surrounding of the private room his wife now occupied.
Dr. Matheson was Susan’s oncologist and primary physician. He had discussed Susan’s disease, prognosis, and her eventual need for Hospice care with them both. He noted in his chart that the husband had been receptive to the idea, but that Susan had been adamant that she was not ready for that kind of care. The husband had told him, repeatedly, that Susan was not ready to give up.
Yes, Jack hated hospitals. He hated everything about hospitals. He hated the antiseptic smells that valiantly attempted to cover up the even more unpleasant smells of sickness and death. He hated listening to the wailing of people in pain and agony. He hated the matter-of-fact way some of the nurses attended to their patients. However, more than anything, he hated knowing in his heart that today might be the last time he would bring Susan here.
Jack sat beside his wife’s hospital bed, holding her cold and lifeless hand between his own. He listened, reluctantly, to the awful gurgling sound, commonly referred to as the death rattle, coming from deep within her lungs. He watched and listened to all the machines that were keeping Susan alive; the constant beeping of the machines was enough to shatter his last illusion of reality. He wished he could turn an OFF knob and vanquish the intrusive sounds. Instead, Jack continued to sit beside his wife, and tried to rub warmth back into her cold, mottled, and clammy hands.
“Mr. Peterson?” Dr. Matheson spoke from the doorway. He motioned for Jack to follow him outside the room.
Jack released Susan’s hand and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be right back, love…” he whispered in her ear.
Dr. Matheson waited patiently outside Susan’s room. It was his own personal belief that, even while asleep or in a coma, the patient might still be able to hear sounds and voices around them. Therefore, he made it a practice to never discuss a comatose patient’s condition in front of the patient.
Jack took one look at the doctor’s face and buried his own face in his hands. He rubbed at his eyes and looked at the doctor again. In his heart, he knew it, but he still didn’t want to admit that it might be true. “Is this it? Is this the end?”
Dr. Matheson touched his shoulder. “I can’t confirm that with any certainty, Mr. Peterson; every patient is different. Some may experience pain and shortness of breath, while others will feel no pain at all and are able to breathe comfortably on their own. Some people will decline rapidly while others will fight it to the bitter end, despite all odds.”
Jack took a deep breath and asked, “But you do think it’s the end for Susan, don’t you?” He needed to hear the actual words before he would allow himself to finally believe the truth of what was happening.
Dr. Matheson paused for just a moment before replying. “Yes, I do.”
Jack nodded his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Will she wake up?” He quickly released another deep breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in.
Dr. Matheson rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s hard to say. She might, but if she does, she may not be able to talk, even if we removed the breathing tube. There is the possibility that she may not even realize who you are or where she’s at. We have her on a very high dose of morphine to help with the pain. I’m afraid the cancer has spread even quicker than we anticipated. It has moved to the bones in her chest and spine. Quite frankly, Mr. Peterson, it’s a testimony to her strength and determination that she’s lasted as long as she has.”
Jack leaned back against the wall for support. “She’s always been very determined about everything she does. You don’t know this, but, we, uh… we adopted my brother and sister-in-law’s baby girl a few months ago. They were killed in a car accident, and the baby… the baby has been a Godsend for Susan. I think she really believed that she could beat this disease long enough to…” Jack couldn’t finish his sentence. He bent his head and his shoulders shook with unreleased sorrow.
Dr. Matheson touched Jack’s shoulder again. “I wish I had better news, Mr. Peterson. I’m sure you and Susan have both been under tremendous stress and pressure, and, I’m sure the baby has been very… therapeutic for your wife. I have to admit, though, that I am very surprised that Susan has had the strength and energy to care for an infant.”
“She’s done what she could, but I suppose most of the care has fallen on me,” Jack answered back. “It’s been a huge help that I’ve been able to work from home, so I’m there with them most of the time.”
Dr. Matheson nodded. “We’ll do what we can to keep her comfortable, but… if you have family, well… you may want to notify them.”
Jack stared vacantly into the doctor’s eyes and shrugged. “No… there’s no one else. It’s just the three of us.” He took another deep breath. “That reminds me… I need to call our neighbor. She’s looking after the baby for me.”
Dr. Matheson touched Jack’s shoulder a last time and said, “I’ll be checking back in a couple of hours. Have the nurse notify me if you need me before then.”
Jack shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you, Dr. Matheson… for making her comfortable. I don’t want her to suffer any more than she already has.”
Back at the Peterson home, Ida Brooks bustled about the kitchen, wiping counters, and rinsing the breakfast dishes that had been left on the table and in the sink. It felt good to be needed again. She saw the morning paper on the table and, once again, loo
ked at the image of the missing baby from Monticello. She was about to sit down and re-read the article when she heard cooing coming from the nursery. “Oh, the little one is awake from her nap…”
The house phone rang as Ida turned to go to the nursery. She debated whether or not she should answer it, until she remembered that it might be Mr. Peterson calling. She had left her home number with Susan a few weeks ago, but she wasn’t at home to answer her phone, now was she?
“Hello? Peterson residence…” Ida answered hesitantly.
“Mrs. Brooks? How is the baby?” Jack croaked out the questions.
Ida picked up on the hoarseness in his voice. “Oh, it’s you! Hello, Mr. Peterson. Don’t you worry about the little one; she is just fine. She’s such a good baby. How is Mrs. Peterson? Is she going to be all right?”
Jack couldn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure if he could say the actual words and he surprised himself when he blurted out, “No… she’s not all right… she’s dying, Mrs. Brooks… my wife is dying.”
“Oh, dear, Lord…” Ida gasped. “I am so very sorry. I… what can I do to help?”
Jack waited a moment before continuing, trying to compose himself. “You’re already doing it, Mrs. Brooks, by taking care of Kelly for us. If it’s not too much of an imposition, would it be possible… would you mind staying for a couple of more hours? I want to talk to the doctor when he makes his rounds, and then I’ll come home to relieve you.”
“Don’t you worry about us, Mr. Peterson. The baby and I are just fine. Now, you just take all the time you need and don’t you worry about us now, you hear? There’s no need for you to rush back. Take all the time you need, really…”
“Thank you, Mrs. Brooks. You have no idea how much you are helping us right now.”
Ida hung up the phone. “Oh, you poor man…” Her thoughts stopped as the sound of Kelly’s cooing changed from happy to demanding. “I’m coming, little one, I’m coming.”
Ida played with Kelley for the next hour before looking at the time. “Well, your Daddy should be coming home soon.” She gave the baby a playful tickle and said, “What do you say we get you fed and give you a nice warm bath before he comes home? That way, all he’ll have to do is hug you and hold you tight. What do you say?”
The baby appeared to look deeply into the old woman’s eyes before a wide grin spread across her tiny face.
“I thought you’d like that idea,” Ida cooed back at her. “Yes, indeedy, a nice warm bath is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe we’ll do that before we feed you.” Ida looked around the nursery and spotted the portable baby bath in a corner. “Oh, poo, we don’t need that clumsy thing, now do we. I’ll just fill some water in the kitchen sink and we’ll get you all nice and clean. We’ll even wash those pretty curls of yours… yes we will!”
The baby cooed and seemed to follow Ida’s every move.
Ida filled the deep kitchen sink with warm water and lined up the baby shampoo, soap, and towels within easy reach. She removed the baby’s clothes and tested the water’s temperature before easing Kelly slowly into the water. She received a mini splash and laughter as thanks.
While the baby splashed happily in the sink, Ida used a baby wash cloth to drizzle warm water over Kelly and used baby talk to entertain her. “Now, what do you say, little one... let’s wash that pretty hair…” Ida used the wash cloth again to drizzle water over the baby’s head, being careful not to get any into the infant’s eyes. She flipped open the shampoo bottle and squirted a small amount onto Kelly’s small head. She rubbed the shampoo in and gently massaged the baby’s head, working up a rich lather of suds. In a matter of seconds, the foamy suds on Ida’s hands turned from white to grey. “Oh, my…” Ida laughed, “You really did need a bath, didn’t you, little one?”
She reached for a small cup she had sat on the counter and used it to rinse the suds off the baby’s head. Ida Brooks gasped in shock and disbelief when the color of the baby’s beautiful black hair began a slow but steady transformation to a coppery shade of red. “Oh, my goodness…”
Mrs. Brooks was stunned and dumbfounded. She stared at the baby with the red curls and, at first, didn’t know what to make of the situation. “Who would want to dye a little baby’s hair?” she mumbled, half-way hoping the baby would magically offer up a logical explanation of her own.
Ida Brooks may have been seventy-seven years old, but her mind was as sharp as it was when she was twenty-seven. She may have been trusting and naïve, but it only took her a few moments to make the connection between the squirming baby in the sink to the one whose picture filled the morning’s paper. “Oh, my goodness…”
CHAPTER 36
Charlotte Grace is Found
Kris had been at work for about an hour and was behind the counter, putting on more coffee and chatting with a customer when the front door opened. “Just have a seat anywhere…” she yelled out, stopping in mid-sentence when she recognized the two police officers standing at the door, apparently searching the coffee shop. They were the same officers who had met Dean at her house the day she received the letter and picture from the kidnappers.
Kris put the coffee pot back on the warmer and wiped her hands on the short apron tied around her waist. The customer was saying something to her, but his voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Her attention zeroed in on the officers as she watched them remove their hats. It was obvious they had spotted her when they made their way through the crowd to the counter. She had not realized she had been holding her breath, while trying to read their faces, until one large gasp escaped from her throat.
The customer was still babbling about God knows what when the front door opened again.
Her knees buckled slightly when she spotted Dean, looking handsome and professional in his crisp uniform. She watched as he, too, removed his hat. His face was easier to read.
The minute he spotted her behind the counter, Dean began grinning from ear to ear. As much as he tried to control his emotions, he felt the tears begin to well up in his eyes. He just looked at Kris, continued grinning, and nodded his head.
Kris grabbed the counter and held on tightly with both hands. She bent her head forwards and her shoulders shook with barely suppressed sobbing.
The customer had finally quit talking when Dean and the two officers approached the counter.
Kris lifted her head and stared into Dean’s smiling face. He was still nodding. The two officers were also smiling now. Kris slapped one hand against her mouth and dropped to her knees. “Thank you, God… thank you so very much…” Her own tears came flowing in a torrential downpour as she repeated, “Thank you…”
The customer threw some money on the counter and left.
Mumbling began among the other customers in the coffee shop.
Kris’ boss had been in the kitchen when he, too, saw the officers enter the shop. He and Dean reached Kris at the same moment, and they both helped her to a nearby booth.
The customers’ mumbling had turned to light chatter as they continued to watch the scene unfolding before them. It had not taken them long to figure out what was happening. The majority of them had been strong supporters of Kris’ since the kidnapping.
Dean knelt before the booth she sat in and wrapped her hands inside his own.
Kris searched his face again to make sure he was still smiling; a smile usually meant good news, but she desperately needed to hear the actual words.
Dean dropped her hands and slipped into the booth beside her. He held her face between his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. He did not make any attempt to control his own flow of tears. He was still grinning when he touched his forehead to hers. “We found her, Kris… we found her, and she’s fine.”
Kris stared back at him and begged, “Say it again… I need you to say it again…”
Dean kissed her lightly upon her trembling lips. “She’s just fine,” he smiled, “She really is.”
Kris’ boss slapped the top of the table
and shouted, “Hot damn!” He turned to the crowd of customers and grinned, “They found Kris’ baby!”
Kris wrapped her arms around Dean and buried her face into the crook of his neck. Sobs of extreme joy shook every fiber of her body. She looked up at him and returned his gentle kiss with a more fervent one of her own. “It’s true what you said, Dean… it works. Prayer really, really works… I never really believed it was possible, but it works…”
Dean nodded and hugged her against him. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Yes, baby… it most certainly does…”
Loud cheering, clapping, and whistling erupted behind them from customers, employees, and Dean’s fellow officers.
There was not a dry eye in the building.
Amanda was finishing up her shift at work, wiping down tables, when Bertie breezed through the front door. Amanda waved and grinned, “Hi, Bertie!”
“Well, hey there yourself, Princess,” Bertie waved back to her. “Are you about ready to call it a day?”
Amanda walked over to help Bertie with the box of supplies and groceries she carried. “Here, let me help you with that. Where’s Doug? He should be carrying this for you!”
Bertie grinned. “Oh, he’s right behind me with his own boxes. We had to make a quick run to Sam’s before the night shift got going. Max said he was expecting to do a lot more cooking than usual tonight and tomorrow.”
“Really?” Amanda asked. “He didn’t mention anything to me about it. Is there a special party or something?”
“Well…” Bertie whispered as she moved into the kitchen where Max was grilling hamburgers and hot dogs. She nodded and smiled at Max. “I think he wanted it to be a surprise.”
Amanda was right behind her but she turned when she heard the angelic chimes and saw Doug entering with three more huge boxes of supplies. She watched as he used his foot to close the door behind him and joined them in the kitchen. “Okay, you three… what’s going on? And don’t say it’s nothing because you’re all grinning like Cheshire cats who found a bounty of wild mice to eat.”
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