Losing Gabriel (33 page)

Lani came out of her morning classroom and headed for the parking lot in a cold gust of November wind. She reached in her purse for her phone, wanting to turn it off vibrate, and saw that she had a text message from Dawson. Heart thumping, she stopped in the flow of foot traffic, got bumped and barked at by the two guys who'd walked into her. The message read…

Doc pulled tube. Gabe awake.

L
ani couldn't get to the hospital fast enough. He was sitting up in the bed, still on oxygen through cannulas in his nose. Dawson, sitting in a chair next to the bed, stood and grinned. Gabe, all downcast, brightened, opening his arms as Lani rushed to hug him. “Lani.” His voice was hoarse, whisper soft. “Take Gabe home.”

She glanced at Dawson. “I've been trying to explain that Dr. Nelson decides when he can leave, not me.”

Lani pulled away from Gabe, offered her hundred-watt smile. “Before lunch? We can't leave before lunch. I saw the food cart in the hall and peeked at the food. Macaroni and cheese and green Jell-O. Looks yummy.” She knew he liked both dishes.

Gabe glanced to the door. “When?”

“I'll go get it for you.” She zipped into the hall to the large service cart, found the shelf and tray with his bed number, and walked it to the nurses' station. “I have the tray for Gabriel Berke. Little guy's really hungry. His dad's with him, and I will be too.”

The busy duty nurse nodded, and Lani carried the tray into the room where Dawson had positioned a wheeled service table across Gabe's bed. She lifted the cover while Gabe fumbled with the plastic wrapped spoon. He dug in, but after a couple of swallows, he dropped the spoon onto the plate. “Hurts.”

The intubation had left his throat raw and sore. “It'll get better.” She wedged herself beside him on the mattress, a hospital no-no, and kissed his temple.

Her tenderness touched Dawson, and he remembered Sloan saying, “She loves him.” When Lani glanced at Dawson, he thanked her with his eyes.

She picked up the spoon. “Bet the Jell-O will feel better going down.” She offered him a scoop of the wiggly gelatin, but he wouldn't try it.

He laid his head on her shoulder. “Home, please.”

“Would you like to watch cartoons?” She picked up the remote and turned on the TV on the wall, toggling to one of his favorite programs. The colorful cartoon images caught Gabe's attention, but after a few minutes, the boy began to search his bed. “I want Woof-Woof. Where Woof-Woof, Daddy?”

“At home, buddy, in your room. I'll bring him later.”

Gabe began to cry. “Want him now!”

Again Lani intervened. “I can go get him right now.”

Gabe looked a little panicked. “Not go, Lani.”

“I or your dad can go right now. Or…we can watch cartoons together and bring Woof-Woof later. You choose.”

Dawson, impressed by Lani's negotiating skills, hid a smile. He watched Gabe's face, his expressions as he warred over the choices. “Cartoons,” he decided. He returned his attention to the television and settled in the bed. Lani smoothed Gabe's hair and Dawson offered her a wink.

She winked back, then settled in to watch the screen, feeling for all the world like one of the family. In her case, a pseudo-member.

After her shift ended, Sloan checked her phone messages while she sat in her car, shivering and waiting for the heater to blow warm air through its vents. Gabe was awake! The text had come around six, not from Dawson, but from Lani, during the busiest time in the restaurant. Sloan checked the dashboard clock. After eleven. Too late to stop at the hospital tonight, but first thing in the morning…

She was there at ten a.m., picked up her visitor's pass, went to Gabe's room, and found him sitting up but tethered to the bed by oxygen tubing, his stuffed dog under one arm and the TV remote in his hand. “Hi, Gabe.”

He looked at her, broke into a smile. “Hi, Sing Lady.” He held up his dog. “Daddy bring Woof-Woof.”

Sloan petted the dog's smooth leather snout. “I bet he's missed you, because I know I have.” That much was true.

“You take Gabe home?”

His request tugged at her heart. “I can't, Gabe. But I can visit with you for a while.”

He pouted. “You sing for Gabe?”

“Um…I don't have my guitar.” He frowned, and she hastily added, “But I'll bring it next time I come. How's that?”

He turned his attention toward the television, and she watched it with him until Lani showed up just before lunch. Gabe shouted hello, and Sloan rose from the chair, picking up her purse. “Don't go,” Lani said.

“Something I have to do at the house, but I'll be back after lunch. I'll leave Big Bird's latest adventures to you and Gabe for now.” Sloan waved goodbye and swept from the room.

She kept her word and returned with her battered guitar case just as the food trays were being cleared. Lani was gone. Gabe clapped when Sloan lifted out the well-worn instrument.

“Sing ‘Sunshine'!”

She settled on a chair and strummed the steel strings, was into the song and the creative ways she'd invented to play it when a woman in scrubs and a stern expression marched into the room. “What's going on in here?”

“Just a little music for Gabe.”

“Well, the noise is carrying down the hall and other children are supposed to be resting.”

Noise! The woman was calling her music noise! Sloan bit back angry words.

“Sing Lady play for Gabe. I like,” Gabe announced from the bed.

“It's rest time,” the woman snapped, making Gabe cower.

Sloan came out of the chair.

“Hey! What's going on here?” Lani, in her red shirt uniform, jogged into the room, saw the look on Sloan's face.

“This young woman needs to leave. It's rest time.”

Sloan looked ready to bash her guitar against the head nurse of the pediatric floor. Lani stepped between them. “Mrs. Carville, this is Sloan Quentin, Windemere's own singing star. She's famous, has played in Nashville, plus a ton of other cities—she's really well known. She's just popped in to visit Gabe Berke and sing him a few of his favorite songs, on my request. She won't stay long, and it'll mean so much to Gabe.”

“The other children are asking questions about the music. They won't settle down.”

In a moment of inspiration, Lani said, “Why don't we take the kids who want to listen to her sing to the playroom for an impromptu concert? Fifteen minutes of lovely live music. How can it be a bad thing?”

“No one's authorized—”

“I can run down and get Mrs. Trammell's okay…but why bother her with this? Fifteen minutes. This will be a special treat.”

By then, several other nurses had come into the room, and they began to voice their enthusiasm for Lani's idea. She saw Carville beginning to soften and asked the others, “It's extra work to bring the kids and take them back to their rooms, but would any of you mind?”

No one did. Mrs. Carville caved. “Fifteen minutes,” she said.

The other nurses scurried to gather the “well” kids on the floor, those able to leave their rooms, and to get them into wheelchairs or walk with them pushing their IV poles to the playroom. Lani helped Gabe into a wheelchair, while he chattered and giggled.

“You do know some kid songs, don't you?” Lani asked Sloan out of the side of her mouth.

Sloan sidled her a look. “I've learned a few. But for Gabe! I've never sung for a bunch of kids.”

“Sure you have. Just think of them as preshrunk high schoolers.” She flashed Sloan a brilliant smile and pushed Gabe to the door.

Shaking her head, Sloan was bemused by Lani's staunch argument for a mini concert, of her calling her famous and a renowned homegirl when she wasn't. It was totally unexpected and had caught Sloan completely off guard. Sloan hugged her guitar to her side and, smiling, followed them down the hall.
A singing gig was a singing gig!