by Kim Watters
Noah stiffened. “I don’t remember.”
“I think you should get one as a precaution.” She put a little pressure on the spot with a clean, fresh towel she’d pulled from under the sink to stop any residual bleeding.
Taking care of Noah reminded her of what she’d always wanted in a relationship. Companionship, conversation, with some friendship on the side. Something that probably only existed in the fairy tales she didn’t believe in yet desperately wanted to today.
“I’ll think about it.” Noah shifted away from her.
Striving to maintain a more businesslike atmosphere, Ruth focused on her task. “It’s not something you should just think about. I’ve seen what happens when a person gets blood poisoning. It isn’t pretty.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen a lot.” Noah took the towel from her and dabbed the remaining moisture from his palm. “See? Not bad at all.”
“No. Mostly superficial. We’re lucky.” Ruth gave him a ghost of a smile and opened the cabinet door. She rummaged through various boxes and pulled out a piece of gauze and some tape. “Since your cut is long, I’m going to cover it with this. Try to keep it dry, okay?”
As she softly wrapped the bandaging around his hand, she eyed Noah from beneath her lashes. Even with a slightly crooked nose, the man was too good-looking for her comfort. His cropped hair suited him, his crow’s feet made him distinguished and the blueness of his eyes made her want to dive right in. “So, how did you break your nose?”
A slow blush crept across his features. “Brad did it.”
“What? Why?” Ruth stopped wrapping his hand.
“He wasn’t too happy I decided to date his cousin even though he’d been the one to introduce us. He didn’t think I was good enough for Michelle.”
“Brad said that?” An incredulous Ruth stared at the man in front her.
Noah took a moment to respond. “Not in those words exactly, but he came around after I married Michelle. We’d been friends too long to let something like that come between us.”
Michelle. His late wife. More regret slid across her shoulders as she suddenly imagined all the lonely, bleak years stretching out ahead of her.
Even though she knew she should concentrate on wrapping his hand, her gaze remained on him. He fit into her home, on her porch and anywhere else she could imagine. Against her better judgment, she’d begun to let him into her heart.
Noah rested against the countertop as Ruth placed the tape on the gauze. Noah didn’t know which hurt worse: the sting of the peroxide or the expression on Ruth’s face when he’d mentioned Michelle. Letting go wasn’t as easy as thinking about it, and he’d unwillingly hurt the woman he considered a friend. If only he could cram those words back into his mouth and start the whole conversation over.
Or better yet, ask the question that had brought him here in the first place.
Almost instinctively, Noah bowed his head. Ruth was wearing off on him, but he caught himself before he uttered a useless prayer. God wouldn’t listen anyway, would He?
Not to someone who abandoned Him.
No. He abandoned Noah, too, so Noah would face this alone. Sweat trickled down Noah’s forehead and gathered under his arms. Would understanding the process of the organ donation that Hannah faced allow him to finally accept his son’s death so he could have peace? Would it allow him to move on? To love again? Or would it only allow the black shadow surrounding him to triumph over his last bit of sanity?
A glimmer of light and hope burst through his thoughts. Anything would be better than this limbo. His question wasn’t going to get any easier the longer he stalled. He spoke quickly, finally able to wrap his tongue around the words he’d never been able to vocalize. “Can you explain the process of organ donation?”
The weight he’d carried around on his shoulders decreased.
Noah had been too distraught when Jeremy had been declared brain-dead to ask the questions then, and afterward, bitterness, guilt and pride kept him from researching the answers. Until he met Ruth and started flying the medical personnel around, he’d obliterated the whole concept from his mind, but not anymore.
“I want to understand. I need to understand. What happens?”
Ruth quit wrapping the first aid tape around his hand. She took so long to answer that he wondered if she’d heard him at all. Noah squeezed his eyes shut to clamp down on the emotions swirling around him.
“What would you like to know?” Ruth cut the tape and set down the supplies before she placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
“Everything,” Noah ground out.
“Okay then. Please stop me if this gets to be too much, okay?”
Noah nodded and opened his eyes. He was ready.
“I get called in after a family services coordinator gets family consent to donate.” Ruth’s soft voice cocooned him in warmth. Her hand remained on his arm, reminding him everyone needed human contact.
“To coordinate the actual donation.” Comprehension seeped into his pores and chased away some guilt. Noah finally recognized the difference between the garish woman who’d handed him the clipboard to sign for Jeremy’s organs and the woman who stood next to him. A chunk of anger fell away though he still questioned why He had taken his wife and son.
“That other day for instance. The coordination in Rio Salado City. When I arrived at the hospital, I took over the care of the patient. I went through his chart, filled out paperwork and then offered his organs via DonorNet, which matches donors with recipients. That’s why I always carry a laptop with me.”
“That makes sense.” More guilt dissipated, and he wanted to know more. “So what happens then?”
“Well, in that particular case I had three offers from different hospitals with waiting recipients and coordinated the arrival of the teams coming to retrieve them.”
“What would happen in Hannah’s instance?” Noah placed his hand on top of hers, which still rested on his arm, and squeezed.
“Hannah’s on a waiting list. Her information is listed and when an organ becomes available, they’ll check for blood type and other factors. Then calls will go out to people on the list that match the criteria. If Hannah isn’t healthy enough to do the transplant, or can’t get to the hospital in time, the organ will go to someone who can.”
Silence lingered between them.
“What do you suppose are Hannah’s odds?”
He watched Ruth’s expression freeze as she pulled her hand away and turned to put the tape and scissors away. “I honestly can’t tell you. I don’t know what her stats are or what the condition of her health is. Only her doctor can decide.”
More silence inhabited the bathroom, and Noah suspected Ruth hadn’t quite told him everything. At least he now had a starting place though. As he stared at Ruth, his thoughts flew back to that afternoon in the hospital. The woman, the clipboard. His sister’s words.
He finally got it. He understood. Michelle would have done the same thing had she lived. And she would have wanted her organs donated had she been eligible. He should be so selfless. He had no doubt Ruth had “organ donor” on the back of her driver’s license.
“Thanks.” Noah twisted his hand around and stared at Ruth’s handiwork. “You do good work. No wonder you were such a good nurse. Now that I’m almost as good as new, we’ve got lights to put in.” Noah strode from the bathroom.
Thirty minutes later, he stared at his handiwork above the garage. At least when Ruth came home late at night, she would have enough light to get inside the house safely from either the garage or the front door. He gazed at the woman who now walked out that same front door carrying two glasses of iced tea. Her smile made his heart beat a little faster, his breath come in short gasps, his mind begin to think about wanting to get to know her even more.
Because against his better judgment, the friends thing wasn’t working. He cared for Ruth, and his heart wasn’t safe anymore.
“Here you go. Thanks for doing this for me. I really apprec
iate it.” As Ruth handed Noah his glass, their fingers touched and created a tiny spark of hope. Noah was ready to conquer whatever else might be on Ruth’s to do list of projects so that he could stay near her vibrancy instead of facing the four walls of his condo with his newly found out information.
“No problem. Glad to help. Anything—” The trill of the cell phone cut off his sentence. The look of puzzlement crossed her face when she glanced at the number.
“Ruth Fontaine.” Relief filled her expression at the caller’s identity. “Oh, hi Samantha. I didn’t recognize the phone number. Well, no, I wasn’t planning on it. Not today, why?”
Noah tested the lights to give Ruth her privacy for the phone call, but he could still hear the one-sided conversation. What hadn’t she been planning to do? Had he intruded on her again with his questions and delayed her from going somewhere important?
Turning to face Noah with a look of uncertainty, Ruth ran a hand through her hair. He could see the indecision hover on her lips. “Oh, I can’t. I’ve got company right now. Please give him a hug and kiss for me and tell him I don’t want to see him back there any time soon. Thanks for letting me know.”
“Problem? Another job?”
Ruth shook her head. “No. That was one of the nurses at the Children’s Center. Carlos is being sent home today, and he wanted to say goodbye to me. She asked if I could come in and visit with the children for a bit.”
“And you’re not going?” Ruth’s answer surprised him.
“No.”
Yet written in her eyes Noah saw the anguish and despair. The fact she’d decided to stay with Noah didn’t go unnoticed, and it gladdened and troubled him. He understood Ruth’s compassion for her kids. He’d begun to feel it yesterday, too.
No longer willing to just exist in the self-imposed exile since Jeremy’s death, Noah wanted to reach out and return to the living. Those kids needed her, and Noah was more than willing to share. “But you have to. You can’t disappoint Carlos. Tell you what. We’re done here except for the cleanup. After I pack my tools, Houston and I will come with you.”
Happiness filled Ruth as she stepped back in beside him. She suspected she was seeing a glimpse of the former Noah, and her heart rejoiced. Thank you, Lord. “Of course. Just let me freshen up a bit and lock the house.”
“You look beautiful, Ruth.” Noah’s expression softened the longer he stared at her.
The pads of his fingers traced the contours of her cheek. What if there could be more and she’d finally found the one? The thought scared her into questioning his statement. “Really?”
“Really. Makeup would only hide the inner beauty that shines through. Michelle was like that too, but she insisted on the camouflage anyway.”
Disappointment and a tiny bit of jealousy singed every cell in her body. Ruth closed her eyes and turned into the palm of his hand, wanting to savor the moment before the fairy tale ended. She’d fallen for the wrong type of man again.
“I’ll drive since you’ve still got the rental. Any word on your car yet?”
“Nope. Though I don’t really think I’ll hear any good news. My insurance company said it would take ten days for them to determine it unrecoverable. Let me lock up the house then meet you in the truck.”
Silence accompanied them the entire ride to the hospital.
Twenty minutes later, Ruth waved to her friend manning the nurses’ station before they walked down the fourth floor hall. Ruth reached over and took Noah’s hand in hers, wanting to connect with him. Stupidity on her part, but the damage was already done. The moment passed as soon as they entered the playroom and the children engulfed them, pulling Ruth, Noah and Houston in separate directions.
“Who’s the new boy?” When she finally had a moment, Ruth asked one of the other nurses who stopped by to deliver medication. She pointed to the little four-or five-year-old towheaded child sitting by himself in the corner.
“His name’s Tommy White.” The petite redhead lowered her voice. “His foster family dropped him off when they discovered his medical needs were more than they could handle. He hasn’t spoken a word since.”
“What type of medical issues does he have?”
“He needs a heart transplant like Marissa.” The young nurse tsked as she wrote some notes on various charts. “I just don’t understand how the Lord can allow such terrible things to happen to innocent children.”
“It’s not up to us to understand His intentions. I just pray for everyone and do His will on Earth.”
“Well, I’m not sure how long I can continue to work in this area. It’s killing me to see them in such pain. I need to find another job that’s filled with more hope.”
“If I hear of anything, I’ll let you know. I’m Ruth Fontaine.”
“Maggie Carr. Pleased to meet you.” She shook Ruth’s hand. “I’ve got to run to the nurses’ station for a moment. I’ll see you later.”
“It was nice meeting you, too.”
Ruth’s attention strayed back to Noah, surprised to see him sitting against the wall next to Tommy. With his legs stretched out in front of him and Houston perched on his lap, they were both down on the boy’s level as if it were the most natural thing. But then again, Noah had experience with children. Firsthand experience. She remembered how uncomfortable Noah had been only yesterday, and her heart went out to him, hoping this wasn’t too much for his emotions again. Tears prickled the back of her eyes. She prayed Noah or Houston would be able to reach out and connect with little Tommy and bring him out of his shell.
She wandered back to the group of children playing Twister in the center of the room; yet she was fully aware of the man talking with the new boy on the floor.
“Hi, buddy. What’s your name?” Noah continue to sit on the dark green carpet and rest his back against the wall next to the little blond boy off in the corner by himself.
No reply.
Noah’s gaze skimmed the short, chopped hair, past his skinny arms that wrapped around his legs, down to the scratches on his feet that stuck out from underneath the blue and white hospital gown. Unease settled in Noah’s gut. Why was the boy here? He didn’t look sick.
And why, with all the children in the room, had he felt the need to come talk with this one? Though no longer on the outside looking in, Noah understood the isolation and loneliness. It couldn’t be that the boy reminded him of Jeremy. The resemblance stopped at the blond hair.
“I’m Noah, and this is Houston.” Noah tried again. He settled his dog more comfortably on his lap and ran his fingers through Houston’s curly hair, his gaze skimming the huge bookshelves filled with books and all the toys. The room reminded him of the day care center they’d used occasionally for Jeremy, not a room inside a hospital.
Still no reply from the boy.
Houston whined softly and stared up at Noah as if understanding what Noah was trying to do better than Noah knew himself. Anticipation surged through his dog as Houston stood on hind legs and licked Noah’s chin. “Down, dog. I know you want to make a new friend. Let’s give it a few more minutes.”
Houston whined again.
“Houston likes little boys. Would you like to pet him?”
This time Noah’s words got a small reaction from the boy. He turned his head and stared up at Noah and Houston, with big blue eyes, so much like Jeremy’s. His faced crumpled into tears.
Instinctively, Noah reached out and placed his arm around the boy’s bony frame and gathered him close. Houston jumped from his lap and paced around them as Noah rested his chin on top of the boy’s head and closed his eyes. Just feeling the small body against his brought out the father in him, and he longed to wrestle away the demons that caused the boy’s pain. He understood the look, the hopelessness in the boy’s expression. He’d worn a similar one.
A drop of water landed on the back of his hand. A tear. But was it his own or did it belong to the boy? He cared. Too much. He felt himself shying away from the contact. He couldn’t deal with th
is. What had this innocent child done that God had seemed to turn his back on him? Why didn’t God care?
Or maybe He did.
The boy had been brought here to find refuge and care from whatever messed up placed he’d been living in.
Houston pawed at them before his warm, pink tongue licked the moisture from their faces. A tiny sound of laughter emerged. Then the boy reached out to pet Noah’s dog. “Nice doggie.” The child snuggled further into Noah’s arms and wrapped his own around Noah’s waist. Stunned, Noah remained motionless. Especially when he noticed both Ruth and the nurse staring at them. They quickly approached from opposite ends of the room with genuine smiles creasing their lips.
“Hi, Tommy. I’m Ms. Maggie. I’m one of the nurses who takes care of you.”
“And I’m Ms. Ruth.” Ruth sat on the opposite side of the little boy. She placed a hand on Tommy’s arm and rubbed it gently. “I come in and read to all the children and play games with them. What’s your favorite book?”
Tommy turned his head and hid his face against Noah’s chest. Tommy. The name suited the small child. Noah tried to pull his emotions back, but it was too late. He squeezed his arm around Tommy’s shoulders and let his joy at being able to express himself run down his cheeks. Thanks to Ruth, he’d come back to life.
“That’s okay, Tommy.” Ruth continued to rub his arm. “No hurry. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll be here for you. One of us will always be here for you. Either myself, or Ms. Maggie or any one of the nurses or doctors on the floor.”
“Me, too.” Over Tommy’s head, Noah looked at Ruth. He willed her to look at him, but her gaze fluttered to the little boy in his arms. He missed feeling the connection with her and the way her green eyes softened to the color of shamrocks when she looked at him.
“Plus, I’ll be one of the coordinators keeping a look out for a new heart for you. Then you’ll be good as new. Marissa’s waiting for a heart, too. Would you like me to introduce you?”