by Robyn Carr
“This was supposed to be a break from your mother until you two could learn to get along better, not a chance to get involved in something even more complicated.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “And thank you—it’s been much more fulfilling than I dared hope.” He groaned and dropped his head in his hands again. “Stop reading into everything,” she said, laughing. “I’m working on getting Megan Thickson some help—surgery on that scar. And I’m actually making progress. Just a little, but I have some good people trying to help me. My old neurosurgeon for one. I really love that guy.”
“Angie, I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Jack, where were you when I was sixteen, sitting in the living room in my prom dress with Grandpa and his camera waiting, with my sisters giggling, with Mom and Dad and Aunt Mary and Aunt Brie all set to snap pictures for a date who didn’t show, who not only stood me up but took someone else instead?” She shook her head. “You know what my first choice would be? That I lived in the same general area where Paddy lives, or is stationed, and that we could date for months or years, like my mom and dad did. And my second choice? For you to let me make my own decisions for three more weeks.”
“Have you told your mother?”
“I haven’t told anyone, but around here there aren’t any secrets, I guess.”
“What will your mother say?” he asked.
“I don’t care what she says, if she even finds out. I’m not a baby or an invalid and the bunch of you better get that straight or I might do something dramatic, like run away. Again.” She stood up. “Really, I’m glad it’s out. Wrap your brain around this, Uncle Jack. I like him. I’m not giving him up. Now I have phone calls to make, so I’ll see you later.”
“Angie, those Riordans…”
She turned back to him.
“They’re good guys, don’t get me wrong. But they’re not pups. They’re warriors, every last one of them. Rugged. Not exactly…docile.”
“Yeah,” she said with a big grin. “I know.” And with that, she turned and left.
* * *
“You could’ve warned me,” Angie said to Mel.
“Angie, I didn’t discuss you with Jack. Not much, anyway. I said it was true I suspected you and Patrick but that we hadn’t talked about it and it was none of my business. I also told him that my experience with young women is that the louder the protest against their decisions, the firmer they become.” She took a breath. “How’d he do?”
“He’s batshit crazy. His little kitten is getting boinked by a fighter jock.”
Mel couldn’t help it, a laugh burst from her. She covered her mouth with a hand. “God,” she whispered.
“Well, there’s no one left to be discreet around. We can officially go steady. For three weeks.”
“Like summer camp,” Mel said. “Only this time in the dead of winter. Listen, while you were with Jack, there was a phone call. Dr. Hernandez?”
“Really?”
“Is he one of yours? Or a plastic surgeon?”
“Plastics. He left a number, I hope.”
“On the desk. He’d like you to speak to his PA.”
Angie bolted for the phone. In fifteen minutes she was back. “Okay, here’s what we’ve got. The doctor wants to see her for an evaluation. If he can help, he will. His assistant will help me tally the other costs so I know exactly how much money I have to raise. Monday at 2:00 p.m.”
Mel grinned largely. “Where?”
“Davis. I’m crossing my fingers that this is a relatively simple procedure. He must be a good man. He’s waiving the office fee.”
“Do you want me to take her?”
“No, please let me. But I’ll have to go talk to her and her parents.”
“I have a suggestion,” Mel said. “She’s very close to the elementary school teacher, Becca Cutler. And you’re close in age. You might want to talk to her, enlist her help, maybe take her with you to the Thicksons’. It could give Megan peace of mind.”
* * *
Angie waited until the end of the school day to drive over to the elementary school and introduce herself to Becca. When she arrived, she found the day care staff of three still busy with small children in one room and in another she found a pretty young blonde woman on her knees in front of a miniature table, scraping glue and clay off the top. There was a bucket of soapy water beside her.
“Hi,” Angie said. “Are you Becca Cutler?”
She sat back on her heels and smiled. “I am.”
“I’m Angela LaCroix. Jack Sheridan is my uncle.”
“I heard you were coming up for a visit.” She stood up, wiping her hand on her jeans. “Nice to meet you.”
“So, this is the new school,” Angie said, looking around. There were colorful tubs and baskets full of supplies, mats on the floor, little tables and chairs, desks lined up in one corner, a sink, blackboard and a bookshelf.
“K through fifth,” Becca said. “The sixth graders go to middle school, then there’s the high school in the valley. This was your uncle Jack’s idea. Isn’t it awesome?”
“He can really surprise me sometimes,” Angie said. “I came to talk to you about one of your kids. It was at Mel’s suggestion. It’s about Megan Thickson—I’ve been helping Mel with a special project.” When she explained what she’d been trying to do and the upcoming doctor’s appointment, Becca teared up.
“Oh, God, could it really happen?”
“I have a long way to go,” Angie said. “If the plastic surgeon decides it can be done, the next step is to calculate the cost. Even if he donates his services, there’s still the cost of the outpatient surgi-center, lab work, post-op, et cetera. His assistant will break down the expenses. Then I go hunting for money,” she finished with a shrug.
“How expensive could it be?”
“I have no clue,” Angie said. “One of my uncles had a rotator cuff repair. He was knocked out for an hour and the surgery cost twenty-seven thousand dollars. Of course he had good insurance—it was covered. But who knows how costly Meg’s surgery might be? Mel has called all kinds of organizations and agencies and had no success in getting affordable help for Megan.
“But let’s not get all worried about that part yet—I haven’t even begun to go looking for money. Right now I have to convince the Thicksons to let me take Megan to Davis for an appointment with the doctor. That’s the first step. Would you come with me? We have to find a way to do this without letting her think it’s all set—we have to explain this is only a possibility. I just can’t break a little girl’s heart, so I was hoping you might be able to help her understand.”
“Of course I’ll go with you. I’d do almost anything for Megan. She’s one of the reasons I’m here, teaching, married to Denny.”
“Really?” Angie asked, lifting her brows.
“I’ll tell you all about it on the way to the Thicksons’. I love that little girl. I think she changed my life. I’ll do anything I can to help.”
* * *
Once Becca had finished organizing her classroom, Angie drove them to the Thicksons’. Becca lived right down the street and walked to school in the mornings and her car, a small sedan, wasn’t snow and mountain ready. If she had anywhere to go that required all-wheel drive, she took Denny’s truck.
“How did you end up here?” Angie asked.
“I came to find Denny. We dated years ago but he broke up with me before leaving for Afghanistan—it was a dark time in his life and that was one of many things he did that made no sense. I hadn’t seen him in three years but I really had to know if it was time to move on or if we deserved another chance.”
“That’s so sweet!” Angie said.
“There were quite a few bumps along the way,” Becca admitted with a laugh. “But that’s when I met Megan, the swe
etest little girl. She’s had such a hard road, starting with her father losing his arm in a logging accident, her mother taking a job that made it hard for her to keep up with the family, and Megan’s self-esteem was really suffering because her teacher last year didn’t give her any encouragement. When Jack came up with the idea of this school, I was helpless. I had to say yes.”
“I guess it didn’t hurt that Denny was here.”
“He’d made a life for himself here, but he was willing to come home with me to San Diego. I never expected to end up here, but in the end it’s the best decision I’ve ever made. Turn left up here, Angie—it’s a fairly long road through the trees before we get to the house.”
Angie was surprised to see a number of houses tucked into this woody, hilly, snow-covered area.
“Another left—it’s that small one up there. They’re sitting on several acres.”
“It’s very small,” she said. “How many children?”
“Four—Megan’s the oldest. They manage with two bedrooms. Things are much better for them now than when I first met them. Now Frank—Mr. Thickson—has a prosthesis and Denny was able to get him part-time work out at Jilly Farms. Lorraine has a hard job but she gets some overtime, which really can come in handy. This is a hard-working family that’s had some real challenges. I think saving for Megan to have surgery is a priority right now, but I don’t think they have much to spare.” When Angie parked, Becca brightened and said, “Come on. I can’t wait to hear their reaction to your news.”
Once Angie and Becca had said their hellos, they sat with Lorraine and Frank at the kitchen table and Angie explained the whole story. “This appointment would be just the first step and there are many steps. The doctor’s assistant will put together an estimate of costs—even with the surgeon’s contribution, there are still lab, staff and surgical center costs. But first things first—we’ll find out if it can be done, then how much we need, and then I can go on the hunt for contributions.”
Frank looked down at the scarred table top. “Charity grates on me.”
“This is important,” Angie said. “The sooner that scar is repaired properly, the better the chances there will be no disfigurement in her teen and adult years. Try to remember, Mr. Thickson—this isn’t about you. It’s about—”
“I know,” he said. He lifted his arm and rested his prosthetic limb on the table. “I’d do anything for Megan.”
Lorraine reached across the table and squeezed his natural hand. Just then, Megan joined them in the kitchen.
“I’d like to take Megan to Davis to see the doctor on Monday. We’d have to leave early, but we can do it in a day. Will you trust me with her safety?”
“You would do that?” Lorraine asked.
“I’d be so happy to. Becca would come along if she could but the school can’t spare her. But you’re welcome to come if you have the time.”
“I’ll check at the diner. I’d like to come with.”
“Just let me know. You can call me at the clinic.”
“And if this doctor…?”
“The first of many steps,” Angie said. “Here’s what I hope—I hope I can at least line up the providers and most of the funds before I go home at Christmastime. If I can get that much done, Mel would have no trouble taking it the rest of the way.” She smiled at Megan. “I believe this is going to work, Megan. I have a good friend who is a surgeon—not the kind you need, but a wonderful man. He’s been walking me through the process, telling me what I need to do. It might not be quick, but I really believe it’s going to happen.”
The little girl looked at her for a long moment before she let her lips rise in a small smile. And a tear ran out of her good eye. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper.
And Angie’s heart grew so large she thought it might burst.
* * *
By the time Angie got Becca back to town, it was after six. She dropped Becca off and then headed for the cabin, not knowing what she would find but hoping to see Patrick so much. It had been such an eventful day and they hadn’t made plans; they never had.
When she pulled into the clearing and saw his Jeep, she was so relieved. The fire was obviously lit, the lights on the eaves were sparkling and there were lights on inside. She burst into the cabin and found him relaxing in front of the fire. As she was peeling off her jacket she said, “I’m so glad you’re here. I had things I had to do and if you hadn’t been here, I wasn’t sure how to find you. Or if you’d even want to be found!”
“If?” he said, putting his beer on the coffee table. “Come here.”
And it was in that moment that Angie created a very dangerous fantasy that she knew could lead to her downfall. She longed to come home to him or to be there for him when he came home. But she couldn’t even count on that kind of commitment from him right now, so it was definitely out of the question for the future.
She went to him and let him pull her into his embrace. “My uncle Jack knows.”
Patrick pulled back. “Well, that explains it. I stopped in for a beer this afternoon and he wasn’t exactly cordial. I didn’t ask him what was bugging him because I didn’t want the answer. Did you tell him?”
She shook her head. “He was going to surprise me with some takeout and a bottle of wine last night and found a Jeep parked next to my SUV. And the lights off.”
He ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. “Did he give you a hard time?”
She shook her head. “I think it’s hard for him to relate to this strange place we’re in, you and I. I have to admit, I’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
“Me, either,” he said with a smile.
“Not a girl at every port?”
He shook his head. “I’ve never been one to play the field. I’ve always been on the lookout for something solid, and if it looked temporary at best, I wasn’t usually game.”
“I thought men considered that a bonus—temporary.”
He pulled her closer. “Not this man. This is a definite first.”
“Well, the upside is, there’s no reason for hiding out anymore. We’re a Christmas fling and if we want to have dinner in town, why not?”
“And if I want to take you to my brother’s house, will you go?”
“I’d love that,” she said. “I want to meet these brothers! And wait till I tell you about the latest on Megan.”
When she’d gone through all the details and her plans he said, “Let me take you to Davis.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m interested in this project. And because I’ll be able to spend the day with you.”
She couldn’t have thought of a better reason herself.
* * *
Brie looked at her caller ID before answering the phone. “Hey, Donna,” she said.
“Baby sister. How’s my girl getting along?”
“I’d venture to say this is one of the best vacations of her life. She seems to be having a wonderful time—busy every minute, looking healthy and happy.”
“She told me about her project—the little girl.”
“She’s after it like a bulldog. She had to make dozens of calls to find a surgeon with the time and inclination to help. According to Angie, many plastic surgeons have full schedules months in advance. And without a doctor’s exam, she can’t put together a plan and cost analysis. She’s remarkable, Donna. You must be so proud of her.”
“I am, of course I am, but I’m worried. Do you know her latest? She wants to plunge into the peace corps or some similar organization rather than going back to school. After barely recovering from her accident? After all we’ve invested in getting her this far in school?”
Brie took a breath. “God. No wonder she hangs up on you!”
“What? Isn’t this a reasonable reaction on my part? M
y daughter, who was always dedicated to medical school and to her goal of becoming a doctor, had a terrible life-threatening accident. And now, ever since she woke up from the coma, it’s as though she’s a different person! No more medical school, always fighting against me… I just want her to take her time—is that too much to ask?”
“Asking is too much to ask, Donna. Don’t you feel her moving farther and farther away from you? You can stop this, Donna, and you’d better. Or you’re going to lose her.”
“I’m trying! I’m giving her space. I’m trying so hard to keep the judgmental tone out of my voice even though I think some of her decisions and ideas are so out of character and way too risky! I’m trying to—”
“Stop talking?” Brie asked, cutting her off. “Because, Professor, one of the things you do best is push your agenda on people. I know it comes naturally, and you’ve had many students to corral in the right direction, not to mention four younger siblings and three daughters to raise. Have you ever tried just saying nothing?”
She apparently was giving it a try because there was dead silence on the phone line. Eventually, Brie heard a deep sigh on the other end of the line. “Well. That hurt.”
“I know,” Brie said softly. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, but sometimes you’re too pushy. And this isn’t the first time you’ve heard that.”
“Angie didn’t think I was too pushy when I took a two-month leave to take care of her, to help her to the bathroom, read to her and cheer her on during all her painful physical therapy sessions.”
“I think the important difference right now is that she doesn’t need help to do all those basic things and doesn’t like being treated as though she does. If you don’t back way off, my darling big sister, she’s going to run. Run fast and far. You have to let go. You have to let her make her own decision and, yes, even her own mistakes.”
Donna’s voice was uncharacteristically small when she said, “I only want her to be okay....”
“Of course that’s what you want. You’re a good mother. And now I’m going be a good sister. I’m going to get you through this, Donna. Just give me a chance.”