Love Inspired January 2016, Box Set 1 of 2 (43 page)

“I don't know. Maybe she ate less than she thought she did. She was sniffling earlier after dinner. Did you notice? Could be she's getting a cold.”

“Good evaluation, Dad. All good answers. But did you ask her?”

“No. I didn't want to come off as the bad guy. I waited for you to get here.”

“Aha, you want me to be the bad guy.” Anne chuckled. “You know that eventually you're going to have to take over that role. I won't be around every time her sugar drops.”

“Yeah. I know. More than you realize.”

Anne frowned at his words. “May I see her?”

He nodded and she followed him down a short hallway to Claire's room. A soft light glowed from a bedside lamp. Claire sat up in bed with at least a dozen stuffed animals around her. Matt had done a nice job transforming the little room into a girly retreat with pale pink walls and matching décor.

“I see you're having a slumber party. You know I've never been to one before.”

“Never?”

“No,” Anne said with a sigh. “Aunt Lily wouldn't let me out of her sight overnight.” She glanced around. “Who are all these guys?”

Claire smiled. “This is Shorty.” She lifted a pink bear and then pointed toward the rest of the lineup. “I haven't really named the rest of them.”

“How are you feeling?” Anne asked.

Claire shrugged.

“May I see your journal?”

The girl opened the bedside drawer and took out the notebook and handed it to her.

“Everything here looks good, except that...hmm, I don't see your bedtime snack.”

Claire's lips became a thin line.

“Maybe I missed it?”

Anne turned a page slowly.

“No. I forgot. I ate so much at my birthday dinner...”

“And you dosed adequately. Your glucose levels were fine two hours after dinner.” Anne set the journal aside. “Who's driving the car, Claire?” she asked gently.

“I am.”

“That's right. Where are your snack attack cards?”

She pointed to her pink backpack.

Matt reached for it and pulled out the cards, handing them to Claire.

“What kind of snack would you like?” Anne asked.

Claire shuffled through the cards. “Cheese sticks.”

“I'll get them,” Matt said.

Anne's gaze followed Matt out of the room before she turned back to Claire. “You know that it's your job to get your snack at night? Right?”

Claire nodded. “I'm sorry.”

“There's nothing to be sorry about. You're still learning to manage your diabetes. All I ask is that you remember that you're in control, so you take responsibility. Right?”

“Right.” Claire gave a soldierly nod of her head.

Matt returned and handed his daughter the cheese sticks.

“I'm sorry I was bad,” she murmured as she took them.

Anne reached down to hug the little girl. “Oh, sweetie. Your blood sugar isn't about being good or bad. You are not your diabetes. You are the same wonderful Claire if your glucose levels are high or low.”

A wobbly smile appeared.

“This is all about helping you to stay healthy. It's true for all of us. We all want to stay healthy, and I bet your eating choices are helping your father eat healthier, too.”

Anne glanced at Matt.

“I hate to admit it, but Anne is right. Claire, you saw my refrigerator when you first moved in. I was eating nothing but junk food. Now I eat healthy like you and I feel better.”

“Really?” Claire asked as she bit into her second cheese stick.

“Really.” He smiled at her. “We're a team. We're going to do this together.”

“Can Anne be on our team?”

“She is right now.”

She is right now.
Anne mulled the words. Was Matt trying to tell her something? She looked at the small pink clock on Claire's bedside table. “It's getting late.”

“Could you stay a few more minutes? Until I fall asleep?” Claire begged.

Anne looked up at Matt and he nodded his approval.

“Okay.” She eased into the wicker chair next to the bed. Claire reached out to hold Anne's hand, the other she tucked around her stuffed animal.

“Thank you for coming over,” she whispered. Her voice said she was very much still a little girl who needed reassurances that everything would be okay.

Anne leaned down to press a kiss on the top of Claire's silky head. “You're welcome. Your father will check your glucose one more time tonight, and I'm sure everything will be fine. Now go back to sleep and I'll see you on Monday.”

Claire nodded and minutes later her soft rhythmic breathing indicated she was asleep.

Anne slid her hand from beneath the smaller one and rose from the chair. She stretched her arms, her eyes upon the girl who slept peacefully.

Matt was very fortunate to have such a wonderful daughter in his life. Out in the living room she found him sitting, staring at his folded hands.

He stood when she entered the room. “I'll walk you out.”

“You have a nice little place,” she said.

“Emphasis on the little?”

Anne smiled. “Not at all. And it's much tidier than I expected.”

He released a small deprecatory chuckle. “Right. That would be because I straightened it really fast while you were on your way over.”

“That wasn't necessary.”

“Oh yeah, it was.” As he walked past the couch, Matt grabbed a kitchen towel off the cushion. “I'm trying to train Stanley to do housework, but it's been slow going.”

“If you can manage that, I'll consider getting a dog. Possibly two.”

“The downside is he wants a biscuit every time he does anything.”

She grinned and looked around. “Where is he?”

“I let him out in the yard once more for the night.”

Matt pushed open the screen and followed her down the short walk to her truck. “Dogs take time, and you were right. You're too busy for a dog. I don't know how you have time for Claire.”

“I suppose we make time for things we want to have in our life.” She pulled her keys from her pocket.

“Thanks for coming over,” he said.

“No problem.”

Hands thrust in his pockets, Matt stared hard and long at her for a moment. The planes of his face were stark in the harsh light of the streetlamps.

“No,” he finally said. “This isn't like thanks for letting me borrow a cup of sugar. You've done an amazing job with Claire. You've changed both of our lives. Thank you. I mean that.”

“I, um...” She floundered, searching for a response.

“No need to say anything. Please, just know that we appreciate you. You're a good friend. Coming over tonight only proves that.”

Matt leaned closer until his lips gently kissed her forehead. She stood very still, her eyes momentarily drifting closed, savoring the moment.

When he stepped away, the night air separated the distance between them once more. Anne reached out to unlock the truck.

“Good night, Matt.”

“'Night, Anne.”

The engine purred and she pointed the vehicle toward home, grateful the streets were empty as she drove slowly while pondering what had just happened.

He was grateful? If only he knew how much he and Claire had changed her life in a few short weeks. She had purpose beyond her job, beyond the roses in her garden and beyond her aunt.

Her black-and-white life was infused with color. The colors of joy, excitement and hope. She touched her forehead where Matt's lips had sweetly awakened something that had been asleep inside her for too long, and realized that she wanted more. Much more, and that more included Matt and Claire.

But she suspected a real life entailed more than just Saturdays. There were so many things demanding her attention right now. How many of those could she juggle before they all fell apart?

What she wanted really didn't matter when she sensed that Matt was moving away from her, not toward. Was there a way to encourage him to take a step of faith and trust her?

Only the Lord could answer that.

CHAPTER NINE

L
ate. She'd overslept.
She never overslept.

Anne toweled her hair dry and slathered on moisturizer. Rubbing the lotion into her face and neck, she dashed to her closet, managing to stub her bare toes on the corner of the bed on the way. Dancing around the room in pain cost her dearly, as another minute she didn't have ticked by.

She yanked a clean pair of scrubs, making the plastic hanger fly and land across the room next to the antique oak armoire. Pants on, drawstring tied. Next, a long, white T-shirt, followed by a scrub top. Name tag in hand, Anne grabbed her purse and keys.

Sadly, there was no time for a go-cup of coffee today.

Her aunt wouldn't be home until tonight. Monday night. That meant one less thing to check on as she headed out the door.

When the traffic light turned red, Anne clipped back her hair and attached her name tag. Past two more mailboxes, turn left and then approximately fifteen more minutes. Long ago she'd timed the drive from the house to the hospital to ensure she was never late.

Until today.

Ten minutes and thirty seconds later than usual, she pulled into the hospital parking lot, whipped into her supervisor spot and pulled out her makeup bag.

A little mascara and a smear of lip gloss couldn't disguise the dark circles under her eyes, but anything was better than nothing.

Once again sleep had eluded her. There was too much on her mind. Between Matt and Claire, her aunt and the house, she'd found herself unable to find that sweet spot of slumber. Finally, late into the night, she'd fallen asleep reciting her most comforting Bible verses, replaying the moment when Matt's lips had touched her forehead, over and over.

Anne raced through the ER doors as her cell phone began to ring.

Marta stood at the reception desk with surprise all over her face. “I was this close—” she indicted with two fingers “—from calling Sam to check on you.”

Anne glanced at her watch. “I'm eleven minutes and forty seconds late. Who calls the sheriff when someone is less than twelve minutes late?”

“You've worked here for ten years. You're
always
a disgustingly and annoyingly fifteen minutes early to work every single day, making the rest of us look like slugs. You rarely take vacation days and never call in sick. Did I mention that you are absolutely, positively, never, ever late?”

“'Cept today,” Juanita said with a smirk. She handed Anne a mug filled with coffee. “Black and strong, just the way you like it, boss.”

“Thank you.” Anne breathed in the rousing aroma.

“What's the occasion?” Juanita asked.

“Occasion?”

“Why you're late. Must be a doozy. I can't wait to hear all the juicy details.”

Anne sipped the coffee. “I overslept?” she offered.

“Pshh. Maybe you were dreaming about a tall, blond contractor?” Juanita cocked her head. “Were you dreaming about Mr. Hunky?”

“Maybe I just had insomnia.”

“How did it go Saturday?” Marta asked.

“Oh, you know. It was just dinner.”

“Yes. I am aware of that, but it was dinner with Matt and Claire,” Marta said.

“Dinner with a ten-year-old.”

“Come on,” Juanita groaned, gesturing with her usual drama. “You're not going to hold out on us, are you? We're trying to live vicariously through you, but I am telling you that so far, your life has been B as in
boring
.”

Marta laughed. “I can't believe I'm agreeing with her, however, she does have a point.”

“What point was that?”

“We want details,” Juanita said. “In fact we demand details. After all, I did provide my share of information about my blind date last month.”

“That was an overshare,” Marta commented dryly. “You probably should stop now. You are not helping our case here.”

Juanita raised her shoulders, her black eyes wide with feigned innocence.

“Did you have a good time at least?” Marta asked.

“What Marta means is did he kiss you?”

Anne's eyes flew open and she swallowed a large swig of coffee and began to cough.

“Oh, come on. You think Heimlich is going to get you out of talking?” Juanita asked. “We want to know all about your date.”

“It wasn't a date,” she mumbled.

Juanita shoved her hands onto her ample hips. “Hmm, there is something here you aren't telling us. I can smell romance a mile away.”

“That's my face lotion.”

“You think it is,” the unit secretary shot back, “but I know better.”

Anne scoffed. “I'm going to do the budget. Hold my calls.”

She shut her office door and sniffed the air. She smelled nothing. What was Juanita talking about?

Romance? She only wished it was true. Matt was trying to subtly push her out of his life, which meant that, as usual, there was no romance within miles of her, whether she liked it or not.

* * *

The door of the construction office opened and Manny climbed down the steps and pulled off his hard hat. “Matt, Delia just called. She had a phone call from a lady named Williams from Social Services. Are you in trouble?”

“I could be in trouble. I usually am.” Matt grinned as he finished tying down a stack of lumber on his flatbed. “However, I have no idea why she would be calling me.” He pulled out his cell phone and grimaced. “Looks like I had it on silent. I missed a few calls.”

“Delia said to tell you that Mrs. Williams is stopping by tonight to chat with you after she visits Delia to observe Claire's daytime care. You're supposed to call back if her stopping by is problematic.” Manny frowned. “Delia got the distinct impression that it better not be problematic.”

He shook his head. “What do you think this is all about?”

“You don't know anything about this?”

“Nope.”

“The question is...who called Social Services on you. And why?”

“I don't know, but I'm going to find out.” Matt hit autodial.

“Who are you calling?”

“Anne.”

The phone rang several times before Anne picked up.

“Matt, is Claire okay?”

“Yes. Sorry to bother you. Do you happen to have any idea why a Mrs. Williams from Social Services is contacting me?”

“The hospital was required to contact their offices when your daughter was found on the park bench. I've been sending in weekly updates regarding Claire's progress in her treatment plan.”

Treatment plan? All this time he thought Anne was spending time with Claire because she wanted to.

He took a deep breath. “You didn't think about telling me? And here I figured your help with Claire was personal, not because you had to give a report.”

Anne released a small gasp. “Matt, you know that I love spending time with Claire.” Her voice chilled. “As for Social Services, I apologize, because I thought you were aware. I can assure you that my reports have all been favorable.”

“Favorable? What about Claire's hypoglycemic event on Saturday? Will that sound favorable?”

Matt heard her intake of breath before the line went silent. He immediately took a big step back from his anger.

“Okay, I guess I'd better apologize myself before I mess everything up. I'm sorry. That was fear speaking. I know better.”

“Matt, your daughter has diabetes. You have done everything you can as a parent to ensure her success as she learns how to maintain her new lifestyle. I'm sure the representative is only calling for a home visit.”

“Yeah. She's stopping by tonight. That's not much warning.”

“They do that. It's all part of the protocol before they close your file. You'll do absolutely fine.”

“Why am I still not so sure?”

“Look, this is all new to you. I understand. But believe me, you're doing a great job and so is Claire.”

“Maybe you could prep me for the visit.”

“Did I mention that you're going to do fine? This is more about parenting and less about diabetes. The best advice I can give you is to be yourself.”

“Why do I not find that reassuring? Being myself is what got me into this situation.”

“You're exaggerating. I think you're a very good father.”

“I wish I believed that,” he said as he ended the call.

“What are you going to do?” Manny asked.

Matt grabbed his car keys. “What do you think I'm going to do? Clean my house.”

“You want help?”

“Nah, a little housecleaning will be good to run off my frustration.”

He headed to his truck, muttering. As if things hadn't been challenging enough since he'd hit town. Now he was going to be inspected. What if he didn't pass? Would they take Claire away from him because his toilet bowl wasn't sparkling? Or because he didn't serve the right vegetables with dinner? Would this social worker person check his sock drawer, too? What about Stanley? Maybe she wasn't a fan of dogs. Then what? Would he lose his dog, as well?

Lord, You said you wouldn't give me more than I could handle, and I'm pretty much at that point. I need Your help.

* * *

“Who was with your daughter when she was found?”

“Stanley.”

“Stanley? What's Stanley's last name?”

“Ah, this is Stanley.” Matt patted the dog's head. “He's a black Labrador retriever.”

The tension in the room was palpable as the large, square, humorless woman looked from Matt to Stanley. The dog sat quietly on his haunches hoping for a biscuit yet instinctively knowing this was not the time to whine for one. Even the dog was scared of the lady with the huge briefcase who sat across the kitchen table from Matt.

Matt dared to pretend he was scratching his arm while peeking at his watch. An hour. She'd been grilling him for an hour, stopping only to type on her laptop and make distinct noises of displeasure under her breath. Surely she had enough information for her report and several more by now.

She raised her bushy brows and glanced over the top of her glasses at him yet again. Approval was nowhere to be seen. “Generally dogs are not considered substitutes for adult supervision, unless they are registered service dogs.”

Matt scrambled for a response.

“Look, Claire recently lost her mother. She and I have... Well, to tell you the truth, I didn't know I had a daughter until a few months ago. This whole parenting thing is new to me. And the diabetes diagnosis was discovered that day. The day she was with Stanley.”

The woman paused, considering his words.

“You and your daughter are new to Paradise, aren't you?”

“Yes. I wanted Claire with me. I've already missed nine...ten years of her life.”

The woman checked off several boxes on a form and then typed quickly on her laptop. “You'll both need family counseling if I decide to close out your file.”

“If?”

“I can't close the file unless I am fully confident that the home situation is in her best interest.”

“In her best interest?”

“Mr. Clark—”

“Mr. Clark what? I'm her father.”

Silence ensued. He'd apparently crossed the line by verbalizing his frustration.

The woman glanced at her notes. “She has a maternal grandmother in Denver.”

“Who is financially and emotionally unable and unwilling to care for her. Claire was living with her pastor's family.”

The doorbell rang and Matt jumped to his feet, eager for a diversion before his frustration took over completely and got him into trouble. “Excuse me.”

He realized it was Anne behind the screen well before he got to the door. Relief slapped him in the face.

She had obviously come directly from work; she was still in her scrubs. Matt could only offer a prayer that somehow Anne would and could help.

“Anne?”

“I thought you could use a little moral support.”

The tension in his shoulders eased as he let her in the house. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I do. I've been on the other side of the table more than once, interviewing family members. I know it's not easy.”

“Not easy? That woman is scary.”

“Bess is a marshmallow. I've known her for years.”

He rubbed his jaw. “Are we talking the same woman?”

“Bess Williams. I admit she comes off as intimidating, but it's all part of the job. She wears emotional armor to get the job done and to protect herself from the grind of the difficult issues she deals with day in and day out. Even a small neighborly community like Paradise has its share of heartbreaking situations involving children.”

“I'll have to trust you on that. To be fair to my guest, I guess I never thought of it that way, either.”

Anne glanced around. “Where's Claire?”

“Still at Delia's.”

“Bess is in the kitchen?”

Matt nodded.

Anne moved confidently past him and straight into the lion's den.

“Anne!” A grin transformed Bess Williams's face. The woman stood and edged her girth around the table to embrace Anne with her meaty arms.

Matt stood stunned at the exchange.

“Sit, Anne. Tell me what you're doing here, dear.”

Anne waited until Matt sat and then pulled up a chair next to him.

“Matt is a friend. We've known each other since college. I thought he could use a little support. Life has been a little rough for him lately and I wanted you to know that he's really doing everything he can for Claire.”

“That's quite an endorsement.” Bess looked at Matt, confusion registering in her eyes behind the thick bifocals. “I've known Anne a long time. She's never done this before. What makes you so special?”

“I, uh, I don't know.”

Bess looked him up and down. “Well, if Anne is on your team I think we can schedule family counseling and close out your file.”