A Baby for the Doctor

by Stephanie Dees

  She just couldn’t help it. She had to interfere. “I’m sorry, Claire. I have a drug rep bringing lunch in for the staff.”

  He watched her leave and then told his nurse, Marissa, he needed a quick break. He went into the private bathroom next to his office and leaned over the sink, his stomach churning. Splashing cold water on his face didn’t help much. He stared at himself in the mirror, but what he saw wasn’t the healthy image of himself that he usually saw. It was the image of himself as a sick little boy. Thin face, pallid skin, dark circles under his eyes.

  He and Victoria met when they were both little kids in the hospital. With IV poles in hands and masks covering their faces, together they’d terrorized the hospital staff. Two little monkeys wearing masks, his mother used to say.

  They were soul mates, able to understand what the other one was thinking without saying a word. They had stayed in contact over the years, their mothers making sure they got to see each other often. When Ash spent two weeks in the hospital in ninth grade, Victoria only left his side to go to school. In eleventh grade, her Hodgkin’s recurred. There was chemo, radiation, surgery, a failed bone marrow transplant.

  And Victoria died.

  Twelve years later it still took his breath away to think about it.

  Maybe Claire was right. Maybe his resistance to settling down with anyone and only dating people who were unlikely to mean anything to him had to do with losing Victoria. But the fact was, he’d had cancer, too. It was horrible and painful and he remembered it so clearly, even though he’d been a little boy. But all he’d gone through with cancer was nothing compared to the pain of losing Victoria.

  Maybe it was selfish or maybe he was being selfless, he didn’t know. He only knew he didn’t want to do to anyone else, ever, what happened to him when Victoria died. A part of him had died, too.

  In the mirror, his eyes were dark. In these moments he saw himself too clearly. He wasn’t the pediatrician that the kids loved and the moms had a crush on. He wasn’t the singer of silly songs. He was the lone survivor of a relationship that had been the world to him.

  And to this day, he hadn’t figured out how to live with that.

  Chapter Six

  Chores on a farm never ended. Jordan had the tack laid out on the fence line and a couple of sawhorses she’d found in the barn. Normally, cleaning and oiling the saddles and other riding equipment wasn’t something they had to do often, but with so many riders and so many horses, it was important they keep their tack in good condition.

  Levi was on a quilt in the grass under the oak tree. She could easily see and hear him, but at the moment he was lying on his back, looking at the dappled light in the canopy of the big tree.

  She was cleaning some pieces today, and some that she washed yesterday, she was oiling today. Dirty, stiff leather became shiny, supple leather through a very simple process. The task was remarkably enjoyable, probably because there was immediate gratification, something that didn’t happen often when therapy was your deal.

  Claire and Joe’s kids were trickling out of the house as they finished their homework, the older kids to weed and water the soon-to-be garden and the younger ones to the playground equipment. Claire was probably in the kitchen feeding the little ones. Her enormous seventeen-passenger van was parked in the driveway.

  Amelia came running out of the house, jumped the steps, landed on the grass and did a forward roll. “Aunt Jordan, can I help? I have thirty minutes before I have to start feeding.”

  “Of course.” She handed Amelia a rag. Each of the kids had at least one job—the garden, the animals, the dishes, folding clothes. Some of it depended on their strengths, and some of it depended on how heavy their academic load was, or their own responsibilities. Kiera, the only teenager they had right now besides Amelia, had her own baby.

  Jordan checked on Levi, who had rolled onto his tummy and was watching the baby goats playing nearby. One of the kids must have left the door to the barn open again. The goats had their own pasture with much better fencing than the pasture the horses roamed in, but they were escape artists, often aided by the children.

  “I have a test tomorrow. I hate algebra.” Amelia scowled at the bridle as she rubbed oil into it.

  Jordan buffed the saddle to a shine and stepped back to look at it. “I always hated it in school, too, but I use it all the time. How do you think I figure out what ratios go in the feed for the animals?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t know it. I just said I hate it. There’s a difference.” Amelia flipped her long dark hair over one shoulder.

  “Point taken.” Jordan laughed. “I’m glad to hear it. You can help me next time.”

  From the yard, she heard a hoarse sound, almost like someone clearing his throat. She looked up to see Wendy, one of the baby goats, had ventured onto the quilt with Levi.

  The little goat nibbled at Levi’s hair and he swatted at it with hands that were just beginning to fill out. Wendy bounded away and then slowly crept back to nibble at his hair again. Again, Levi waved his hands in the air and Wendy bounded away before coming back to nibble at Levi with her soft goat lips.

  Jordan started over to shoo Wendy away but she heard the hoarse noise again. She stopped to watch the game. Levi reached for the goat, Wendy bounded away and Levi laughed.

  She cried.

  It was the first sign, the very first real sign, that Levi was beginning to heal. Slowly, Jordan joined them, so as not to scare the baby or the goat. She lay down on the quilt beside Levi and he turned his face to hers. Those beautiful big brown eyes were smiling at her. He giggled and pointed at Wendy. “Goat.”

  She had to swallow hard to talk past the lump in her throat but she nodded. “Yes, goat. Wendy is a silly little goat.”

  Thank You, God. Thank You that this sweet baby is learning to trust again. Learning to heal.

  The feed bucket clanged in the barn and Wendy heard it, too. She trotted toward the barn and her dinner, the game with Levi forgotten.

  Jordan sat up and held her hands out to Levi. “Come on, buddy, let’s go see Aunt Claire. I can’t wait to tell her you said a word! Smart boy!”

  As she lifted him up, she wondered how many other words were locked away in that little brain of his, waiting to be released. He was growing, too, a good three or four pounds heavier and two inches taller than he’d been when he first came a couple of weeks ago.

  The speech therapist told her that as Levi started to trust the new world he was living in, his speech would develop because some of the brain space he’d been using for survival would be freed up for actual learning and development.

  She ran for the house and he giggled some more as he bounced along. What a sweet breakthrough! There were many more hurdles to come for Levi, she knew, but wow, she would take the victories when they came.

  Jordan took the stairs, dodging Penny, who was playing with a My Little Pony toy and one of the twins, who had Spiderman. Penny looked up. “Aunt J, Spiderman wants to ride My Little Pony to the police headquarters. Do you think she should give him a ride?”

  After a few seconds of serious thought, Jordan nodded. “Yes, I think My Little Pony would like to help Spiderman catch the bad guys.”

  A grin spread across Penny’s face. “I think so, too!”

  Jordan pushed open the door to Claire’s kitchen. Mrs. Matthews was at the stove. Claire, wearing a mint-green tunic and leggings, was at the island feeding puffs to Sweetness. Sitting across from her, a coffee mug in front of him and a serious expression on his face, was Ash.

  She stopped short. Levi caught sight of Mrs. Matthews and bounced in Jordan’s arms. “Cookie!”

  Everyone stared. Claire grinned. “Did he just say a word?”

  “Yes!” Jordan handed Levi to Mrs. Matthews, who was only too happy to oblige him with a cookie. “And he said goat
a minute ago!”

  She poured herself a glass of lemonade from the pitcher on the island and scooched onto a stool. “What’s going on? I don’t like that expression, Ash.”

  He didn’t say anything. Claire didn’t, either, actually. She was staring out the window over the sink, her hand curved protectively around her rapidly expanding waistline.

  A knot settled in the pit of Jordan’s stomach. “Guys. Seriously. What’s going on?”

  Ash cleared his throat. “This morning a child came into the clinic with fever and a rash. These are common in childhood diseases and, at first, I wasn’t worried about it at all, but her fever was very high and her eyes were red and sensitive to the light.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “She has measles, Jordan.” He reached for her hand and slid his fingers through hers. “She’s in the hospital in isolation now.”

  “Well, that’s no big deal, right? Aren’t most people vaccinated?”

  “Most people are. Unless they are immune compromised, or, in some cases, neglected.”

  She searched out Claire’s eyes. “Like our kids.”

  “Yes, mine are vaccinated now, but Sweetness isn’t old enough yet.”

  The implication of what Ash was saying was sinking in. It was as if her heart didn’t want to accept what her brain already knew. Her fingers tightened around his. “Levi isn’t vaccinated yet, either, that we know of. We were waiting until he was stronger. And because he wasn’t going to day care, it wasn’t a big deal.”

  Ash’s blue eyes were rarely without a twinkle. He had laugh lines for a reason, his easygoing nature perfect for pediatrics. But he wasn’t laughing now. “Jordan...”

  “Have people in town been exposed?” Was that what this was about? She was going to have to keep Levi isolated for a while? She reached for her baby, and Mrs. Matthews transferred him back to her, crumbs and all.

  Ash drew in a quiet breath, but his free hand was fisted against his khaki-clad thigh. “They were all over town. The mom thought her toddler had a cold until her fever shot up. They ate lunch at the Hilltop on Tuesday.”

  He waited and watched her face. She wondered why until what he’d said sank in.

  “Tuesday?” She was off the stool and at Claire’s side in point-two seconds. “We were at the Hilltop for lunch on Tuesday.”

  Claire nodded. “I know.”

  Jordan turned to Ash, the toddler on her hip. “Isn’t there a shot or something you can give us?”

  He shook his head. “You have to give the vaccine in the first 72 hours after exposure and we passed that some hours ago. I think we’re going to have to wait it out. The incubation period is seven to twenty-one days. You and Claire will have to be vigilant.”

  “Wait. Claire, what about the baby? Isn’t measles supposed to be really dangerous for unborn babies?”

  Claire put her hand on Jordan’s arm. “It’s okay. I should be covered. I had a booster before I started working as a caseworker.”

  “Ash?” Jordan needed confirmation that her twin sister would be safe, and put her own hand on her sister’s belly bump.

  “She’s going to be fine and our little niece or nephew will be protected by her antibodies.” He stood. “I have to go. I have other patients who were exposed. They’ll need to be monitored and I want to let them know myself. I’ll be in the office tomorrow if you need me or I’ll be by after work to check on y’all.”

  “Ash?” He turned back, his hand on the doorknob. She wanted him to stay. She didn’t want to think about why, but she wanted him by her side, his fingers linked with hers as they faced this threat. She shook her head. “Nothing. Just, be careful.”

  As the door closed behind him, Jordan wrapped her arms around Levi. She knew without a doubt that she would protect him with a fierceness that she had only imagined up to this point. He rubbed his eyes with a small fist. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’m going to have to take him home and feed him before he falls asleep. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “We’ll be here.” Claire smiled, but her lips trembled. She was tired. The life she’d chosen was one she wouldn’t trade, but Jordan knew that Claire was stretched thin. With Levi in her arms, Jordan walked out the door she had come in, just minutes earlier. Joy and laughter had given way to anxiety.

  She nearly bumped into Amelia at the bottom of the steps.

  “Okay, Aunt Jordan, the horses are in the pasture with the donkey. Goats are in the barn.”

  “Goat?” Levi looked hopeful and Jordan laughed.

  Amelia grinned. “He said a word!”

  “He said cookie, too.”

  Jordan’s niece held out her hand for a high five. “Priorities, dude. Welcome to the family. You coming back for dinner?”

  “No, I’m headed to the cabin. It’s going to be an early night for us.”

  “Okay, see ya.” Amelia bounced up the stairs and slammed open the back door as Jordan circled the pond on the path back to her cottage.

  The little trill of nerves was still there in her stomach as she rocked Levi and put him to bed. He was so vulnerable. But it was the warm concern on Ash’s face that stuck with her, the undercurrent of anger that simmered under the surface.

  She didn’t want to need him. Didn’t want to need anyone. So why couldn’t she get him out of her mind?

  * * *

  Ash dribbled the soccer ball down the field, keeping his eye on the tiny space in the top corner of the goal. He passed forward to his friend Ben Collins just as Joe tackled him, hard. He landed on his butt and bounded back to his feet.

  Oh, Joe was asking for it now. Doctors and teachers might be skinnier than Joe and his law enforcement crowd, but muscle didn’t mean as much in soccer. He signaled to Ben and put on a burst of speed toward the goal. Ben, always the one to come through in a clutch, sent the ball in a perfect arc to land just in front of Ash’s feet.

  No hesitation. Bam.

  He pumped his fist into the air. Game winner. Ben ran forward, shouting, “Goal!” like they did on TV.

  Ash’s buddy Latham was pointing with both hands at Joe. “Brains before brawn, gentlemen.”

  Joe laughed. “Next time we’re not holding back.”

  “You do that.” Ash snagged a towel and a small bottle of orange juice from the bag he’d left on the hood of his car. They’d been meeting for pickup soccer games since Joe had moved back into town, looking for some exercise that didn’t involve weights and a gym. Sometimes the players might change a little bit but for the most part Saturday afternoons meant soccer at the local park.

  He pulled his test kit out of the bag, unzipped it, pricking his finger and testing his blood sugar before drinking the juice in one long gulp.

  Joe sprawled out on a bench and downed a Gatorade, waving a hand at some of the guys who were leaving. “Your blood sugar okay?”

  “Fine. It gets a little low when I exercise but it’s not a big deal if I watch it. The monitor will catch it and alert me if it gets into the danger zone.”

  “It’s been a long week,” Joe noted.

  Latham slung his bag over his shoulder as he walked toward them. “Losers buying dinner?”

  “Rain check,” Joe said. “I promised Claire I’d get home in time to help get the kids fed and put to bed. It’s Mrs. Matthews’s day off.”

  “Lucky you.” Ash scrubbed the towel across his sweaty face. “Sorry, Latham, but I’ve got to go check on a patient after I clean up.”

  Joe frowned. “Any more kids show up with signs of measles? Claire and Jordan have been driving our kids crazy checking their temperatures.”

  “Not yet, but it’s only been a week. We probably have two more weeks before we’re clear. The little girl who came down with it first is out of the hospital, but now her baby brother is in the PICU.”

&n
bsp; “That’s awful. I can’t imagine anything worse than one of my kids being sick.” Joe stopped, and apparently remembered who he was talking to. “Man, I’m sorry. It does give me perspective on how Mom must have felt when you were sick, though. It was before I came around, but I remember you going every year for your checkup and how happy and relieved Mom was when it was over. She always cooked your favorite foods for dinner that night, remember?”

  “I remember.” He checked his insulin pump one more time, but it was still firmly in place. He would clean up at home before going to the hospital.

  He pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder and started for his car, Joe falling into step beside him.

  “Is there really a chance that any of the kids will get measles? It’s not that common, right?”

  Ash stopped walking. “Virtually everyone who is exposed to measles and hasn’t been vaccinated gets it. The chances are extremely high that other people in town will come down with it, either because they weren’t vaccinated or because they needed a booster and didn’t get it.”

  “Well, that’s not very reassuring.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” Ash knew that, in their family, he was the sibling who kept things light. He had health stuff he dealt with on a daily basis. If he couldn’t be positive, he couldn’t survive.

  But this? There wasn’t a way to spin a possible measles epidemic. An infectious disease outbreak was one of the things he had nightmares about and he was living it.

  * * *

  Ash intended to leave the hospital and drive straight home. His body was crying out for some ibuprofen after the brutal soccer game with his brother and their friends. Instead, he drove to Red Hill Farm to check on Levi. He sat in the driveway, the engine of his car ticking quietly.

  It was probably too late to go to the door, but the house wasn’t dark. He had his hand on the gear shift to put it in Reverse when the door to the cottage opened and light spilled out onto the porch. Gus bolted out the door, stopping to sniff the cool night air before bounding down the trail toward Ash’s car.