Second Time Around (11 page)

Bryan and Kevin were there for support, and Kevin was the one who lifted Ricky into the back seat and buckled him into the car seat. “Take care, Sport.”

Emily felt the tears well in her eyes, and was thankful that Ricky couldn't see.

Kevin closed the back door and stepped up to Emily. “You going to be okay?”

“I'll feel a lot better when I know he's in a good home.”

Kevin nodded. “He's a tough kid. He'll be okay.”

“Tough gets a person through a bad situation—not necessarily in the best mental state, though.” Emily spat the correction automatically, then felt bad for criticizing Kevin's attempt to give her courage. “I'm sorry, I know you meant it as a positive attribute.”

He smiled sympathetically. “Stay strong for him, okay? When you get home, I'll be here to be strong for you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

The drive was long, and made longer by the barren winter landscape and dreary gray skies. Laura had packed several children's tapes and books to keep Ricky occupied. An hour after they left home, Ricky was sound asleep.

Emily looked back. “I don't know how Social Service workers do this all the time.”

Laura chuckled. “Don't you find that comment a little ironic, Emily? You're a doctor. You perform surgery, bring babies into the world of couples who should never have conceived, and tell people they have terminal illnesses. And yet taking a child to his grandparents, you fall apart?”

Emily dabbed the tears from her eyes and added the tissue to the already heaping collection in the trash. “I can't explain it, either.”

Laura reached a hand over to Emily's and squeezed.

They traded driving responsibilities halfway so
Laura could stretch out and rest. Laura had called home four times in the first two hours to remind Bryan of things he needed to do. Emily laughed at that.

“What's so funny?” Laura argued. “It's his first weekend as Mr. Mom.”

“You don't think he'll remember to take his own son to the potty? Really, Laura. You're as pathetic as I am.”

Both women smiled, a comfortable silence encompassing them. The mileage sign indicated they were almost there. Dusk was falling into night.

Ricky awoke, rubbing his eyes. “Look at the big boat.”

Emily and Laura turned toward the bright lights in the distance, unable to tell exactly what they were looking at, yet unable to deny that it did look like a big boat. A gigantic ship, in fact. “In the middle of Wyoming?”

“Hmm. Remind me to ask George and Harriet about this. I'm sure they can explain what it is.”

“Mommy and Daddy say it's a big boat,” Ricky reassured them.

“A big boat it is, then.” Emily smiled at Laura. They took the Center Street exit and turned toward town. Ricky's grandparents' house was settled in the older section, where charming homes had a character all their own. Ricky pointed to a house where a huge ramp had replaced the original stairs. “Gramma and Papa.”

“Leave it to a child to lead the way.”

“Are you sure this is it?” Emily queried, looking at the paper with the address, then searching the front of the house for numbers.

“I trust Ricky. Right, Sport?”

The toddler had unbuckled his straps and was looking for the handle of Laura's vehicle. Emily didn't argue, but watched in amazement as Ricky jumped down, hitting the ground running before Laura or Emily could stop him.

Whatever reservations Emily had immediately disappeared when she saw Ricky hug his grandparents. By the time they'd unloaded everything, Ricky was dragging his things to the upstairs bedroom.

Through dinner there was a sudden turn of the proverbial tables, when Harriet began drilling Emily about her life and beliefs.

After the meal was over, Harriet instructed George to take Ricky to his room to get ready for bed. Harriet was in a wheelchair, so George didn't argue. Harriet wheeled across the floor with ease, neither asking for nor expecting help.

The weekend went well, easing most of Emily's worries. While age and physical limitations were a slight concern, lack of love certainly was not a problem. Ricky didn't seem to mind that his papa couldn't keep up with him, or that he couldn't sit on his grandma's lap. There were young children living next door, and, according to Harriet, the mother was more than willing to allow Ricky to come over to play.

By seven o'clock Saturday evening, both grandparents looked exhausted. Ricky had missed his nap and fallen asleep on the floor in front of the television.

When Emily lifted the youngster to carry him upstairs, Harriet began to sob. Laura held the woman's hand in silence. Emily paused, then, at a nod from
Laura, continued. She dressed Ricky in his pajamas and tucked him into bed.

When she returned to the main level, the silence was ominous. “Emily, sit down, please,” George asked. Once she had settled on the edge of a wing-back chair, George continued. “We can't thank you and Laura enough for taking care of our grandson this week, and for bringing him to visit us.”

“This isn't a visit, George,” Emily reminded softly. “You said he has no other family.”

“He doesn't, but—” he cleared his throat “—Harriet and I aren't in any condition to care for a rambunctious little tike. We love him to pieces, but…”

Harriet finished her husband's sentence. “Our health wasn't an issue when they wrote their will, but Gretchen and Jack always spoke highly of you. We know they would want you to be Ricky's guardian.”

Emily's mouth dropped open. She looked to Laura for support, and found a tearful smile on her friend's face. “B-But, you and George are his family.”

“Oh, they had us as first choice, but knowing our age would one day be an issue, they wanted us to name a second choice in case we couldn't fulfill the obligation. The last time we talked, Gretchen suggested they ask you. I guess they never got around to it.”

“Why me? I mean…” How could she tell them Gretchen and Jack weren't nearly close enough friends to have asked this of her?

“Gretchen trusted you above all others with her son, Emily. She praised your way with children, your professionalism, your…”

Emily looked to Laura. “You and Gretchen were closer than we were. This makes no sense.”

“I also have four-plus children. I can't say with certainty that that had anything to do with their suggestion, but it would for me. Not to mention Ricky's asthma.”

“That's another issue for us, Emily,” George continued. “We don't have the knowledge, and I hate to admit it—but for Ricky's safety, I have to—I don't have the capability to keep up with his treatments.”

“We would like for him to stay here to visit for a couple of weeks, if you don't mind. Mrs. Smith next door has agreed to help us for that long.”

Emily listened numbly as Ricky's grandparents listed every one of her concerns. Their points were valid, but so were her own about becoming a parent. And they wanted Ricky to have a chance for a family with other children, something she couldn't offer him, she argued.

“Your odds are better than ours” was their reply.

Sounds like something Kevin would have said.

“Emily, Ricky has already lost his parents, and most likely we will be next. It's just not fair of us to put him through that again. If he has another young family, they will see him through.”

She was a doctor with a sometimes demanding schedule. Kids needed time, had schedules of their own. How could she ever manage to fit more into her days?

Emily's mind reeled long into the night.
A child. Me—a mother. A single mother, just like my mom. What would I do when I had an emergency? I'd have
to hire a nanny. I can't see me with a nanny in the house.

And Kevin. This could send him running forever.

Kevin, or Ricky?

Please, God, don't make me choose between them.

E
mily had a difficult time telling Ricky goodbye, and found her own hesitation even more disturbing. The turn of events was overwhelming.

“You knew this before we left, didn't you, Laura.”

“I didn't know for sure, but I suspected when they asked if I knew you, and if you could come along.”

“You could have warned me it was coming.” Emily shifted in her car seat. “I must have sounded like an idiot telling them why I shouldn't be his guardian.”

“Knowing earlier wouldn't have diminished the shock, just made matters worse, I would think. You would have waited all weekend for them to bring it up. And what if I had been wrong? What if they had decided to continue to raise Ricky?”

“Guess it really doesn't matter any longer, I know now. What am I going to do?” It wasn't a question directed at Laura, and her friend seemed to understand. Silently, Emily went through the list of argu
ments at least a hundred more times in the four-hour drive home.

Emily had read the will, the wording of which did allow her to “find” Ricky a good home if she decided that was “best for all parties.”

How can I know what's best, God? You didn't bring him to me as a baby. And why—when Kevin and I are just working things out between us? I love Kevin, Father. I want him in my life. Yet he doesn't want a family. I'm not even sure he wants a wife. How can I even consider bringing a child into the picture?

When she arrived home, a dozen roses were waiting on the table. Scrawled on an adorable teddy bear card was a note from Kevin: I'm just a call away, any time of day. Been thinking of you. Kevin. Katarina had left that morning on a marketing trip, so Emily had the house to herself for a few days.

She pressed her lips to the card and placed it back in the flowers. “Oh, Kevin, not today. I have too much to think about without letting you muddle my emotions more.” Emily took her bag upstairs to her room.

In the silence, she tried to imagine the noise Ricky's boisterous personality would bring to the house. She considered how different it would be having someone else to take care of, to fix meals for, to get ready for bed at night. The exhaustion from spending that one evening with the Beaumont children was fresh on her mind. Though she would only have the one, she knew it would be a major adjustment, for both of them.

Emily emptied her bags and started the laundry, then baked a batch of snickerdoodles. She called Pas
tor Mike and asked him to see her early the next morning.

“Sure,” Mike said. “I hoped you would call. Ricky's grandparents made a decision already?”

“You knew, too?” She could imagine Mike's wry smile on the other end of the connection. She and Mike had dated a few times, and had mutually decided their combined giving careers would be too draining on a relationship to make a marriage work, but the two had remained good friends.

“Yes, but I couldn't say anything. You know that.”

“Professional confidence. I know,” Emily mumbled. They were both intense personalities and took life very seriously. Emily valued him as a sounding board when she found herself too involved with a situation. “Well, the cat's out of the bag now, and I need to talk.”

For a second night in a row, sleep eluded Emily. She was anxious to talk to Mike. The phone rang once, and she ignored it. She couldn't face Kevin yet. Tomorrow would be soon enough.

At six the next morning, Emily walked into the pancake house and ordered a hazelnut coffee while waiting for Pastor Mike.

“Morning. Penny for your thoughts.”

She looked up, thankful Mike was finally here. “You may need to start charging for advice soon. This problem could bring in some big bucks.”

Mike laughed. After several minutes of small talk, the waitress took their order. Mike looked at her with his deep brown eyes. “So what's the matter, Emily? Why do you hesitate to follow Gretchen and Jack's wishes?”

Emily picked up the coffee cup and began turning it around in her hand. The waitress approached and offered to refill it. “Oh, no, thank you, I don't drink coffee.” She looked at it, puzzled that she
had
already drunk a cup. She must be more distraught than she'd realized. Emily set the cup back in the saucer and pushed it toward the waitress to take to the kitchen, then looked back at Mike, who was looking sympathetic and waiting patiently for an answer to his question.

“I'm a single doctor, Mike.”

“That's not my fault,” he said with a grin. “I tried to solve that ‘problem.'”

She couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. The indecision formulated itself as a lump in her throat, and Emily paused for a drink of water.

“Sorry, Emily, I'm teasing. It's just a wonder to me that you haven't found someone to share your life.”

She cleared her throat. “That's part of the problem. I have, I think. Remember the man I told you about who wouldn't go with me to Maryland when I was accepted into Johns Hopkins?”

“The one who jilted you?”

The word sounded so much harsher now than it used to. She nodded. “He's back. We started seeing each other again.”

He studied her, then added in his casual, jesting way, “Sounds easy enough. What's the problem?”

She shrugged. “Kevin says he doesn't want a family now—that our careers are too demanding. I know there must have been other things that happened after our breakup that hurt him, because he loves children. Kevin wanted a big family.”

“And you care enough about him to let that stop you from taking Ricky?”

“I've never stopped loving Kevin.”

Mike's expression changed; a smile spread across his face. “Kevin…Bryan Beaumont's best man?”

Emily blushed. “Yes. How did you…?”

Pastor Mike wiped his brow and smiled again. “He isn't the jealous type, is he?”

“Why—?” She followed Mike's gaze…right to Kevin. He was waiting to be seated, and simply tipped his head to her in acknowledgement. When the hostess came to seat him, he motioned toward the other side of the restaurant.

After her long, troubled night of soul-searching, the sight of Kevin made her fear all that much more real. “I can't tell him about Ricky. Not yet.”

“You're going to have to sometime.”

Emily moved to the edge of the booth. “Maybe Ricky's grandparents will decide they can raise him.”

“Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it. They aren't saying they don't
want
him, but that they want what's best for him. And they've determined their daughter and son-in-law made a sound decision in naming you guardian, Emily—”

“Will you excuse me for a minute?”

Without waiting for Mike's answer, Emily walked up to Kevin and motioned toward the chair. “Do you mind?”

“I've only got a minute. I'm expecting Bryan and a couple more friends.”

“I'm sorry I didn't call last night. It was a difficult weekend for me, and I needed time alone.”

She could see the hurt on Kevin's face, even
through his smile. “That's fine. We'll have to talk later—the guys are here.”

“Okay.” Emily stood up and backed away. “Morning, Bryan.”

His response was lost in the confusion of the others moving past to be seated.

When Emily returned to the booth, their meals had arrived, and Mike motioned for her to eat.

She couldn't. Seeing how she'd hurt Kevin made her lose her appetite.

Pastor Mike finished eating a bite, then looked at her. “Emily, if I were in your shoes, I'd have the same questions, I'm sure. No decision is easy, especially when it involves the life of a child. You wouldn't be content with your decision if you didn't question it from all directions. That's who you are. That's probably the reason God led you into medicine. You don't stop with the easy answer.”

She cut her omelette and took a small bite, wondering if that was a compliment, or a concern in
this
case. Should she just accept Ricky without doubts? Was she wrong to find the answer such a struggle? She felt so selfish. What kind of woman would hesitate to take in an orphaned child?

That question alone had been enough to keep her awake all night. She'd tried to convince herself that there were thousands of people who would love to have a little boy like Ricky. That just because she wanted a child didn't mean
now
was the right time. That somehow, she would find just the right couple to take care of and give their love to the adorable boy.

Mike's authoritative voice recaptured her attention. “As you make your decision, I'd like you to
think about this story I heard: There was a woman who once asked God why she hadn't been blessed with a child of her own. And God said, ‘You were. I did bring you a little boy who had no mother and no father. And I gave you a tender heart for him. He wasn't a baby, true enough, but he needed the care and knowledge and love that only you could give him.'”

Mike paused. “Emily, God's children don't approach Him in the same packaging.” He swiped his head, then continued, “Some may be bald, and some may have beautiful red hair, and some may even have a past they would rather forget than deal with. Yet God welcomes each of us. It isn't an easy decision to become a parent, whether it be by adoption, or by birth. Having another person to be responsible for is a great gift, one worthy of much thought and consideration and prayer.”

“Thank you, Mike.”

“I'm sure you'll come up with the best decision for you and Ricky. And Kevin.”

 

Monday morning had been crazy. Seemed everyone had been waiting through the weekend to call the doctor. She hadn't had a moment to think of anything aside from the stack of files she would still have on her desk at the end of the day.

She had just returned a patient's call and had been put on hold—

“Help! We have a man hurt.”

Emily dropped the phone into the cradle and ran toward the construction area. “What happened?”

As she reached Kevin's crewman, he turned and led the way. The two rushed through the tarps and
down the ramp as he explained. “We were lifting the window from the truck, and it slipped from my hand. It knocked the boss to the ground. He's out cold.”

“The boss?” Emily's heart stopped. “Kevin?”

“Yeah, Kevin.”

Emily ran faster, nearly passing the man by.
Hang on, Kevin.
She turned to her nurse, who was trailing behind. “Go get the COR cart.”

Kevin was motionless, laying on his back in the dried mud. Several men surrounded him; glass from the shattered window covered the ground. His skin was pale, and there were cuts all over his face.

Ignoring the glass, Emily dropped to the ground and knelt beside him. “Kevin! Can you hear me?” She placed her cheek over his mouth to feel for breathing, automatically pressing her fingers on his neck to check for a pulse.

“He's not breathing. There is a pulse. Call an ambulance!” She wasn't going to take any chances, and there was no way she could chance moving him without a backboard. Emily saw one man holding a bloody rag to Kevin's head, and hoped he hadn't already moved the victim. “Why's he not breathing?” she shouted.

No one answered. Patti returned and dropped to her knees next to Kevin's head, setting the kit beside her. “The ambulance should be on the way.” Patti thrust his jaw forward, and Emily checked for an obstructed airway. “Do you want the mask?”

Seeing nothing in his mouth, Emily tried to blow air into his lungs. “Didn't go in. Try the jaw thrust again.” Emily stayed in position, ready to move when Patti was ready. “Don't you dare die on me!” she said to Kevin.

Patti continued to hold Kevin's head steady and to pull his jaw farther forward. “You sure you don't want the Ambubag…?”

Ignoring her nurse, Emily blew two deep breaths into Kevin's mouth. “Nothing.” She tore the shirt open and straddled his torso. “Oh, no, you don't, buster. You're not getting off this easy!” Weaving her fingers together, she straightened her arms and began abdominal thrusts, then moved back to check for an obstruction of the airway. Emily opened his mouth and looked, swept a red-and-white peppermint candy from his mouth, and resumed the position for rescue breathing.

“Got it! Let's start over.”

Patti readjusted his jaw just before Emily's mouth covered his. Holding his nose closed, she gave him two deep breaths, and was relieved to see his chest rise this time. She checked his pulse. The beat was rapid. She checked his breathing, then breathed into his mouth again. “Come on, Kevin, you're not going to give up, are you?”

You wouldn't dare die on me! Don't you dare.
She paused, then breathed for him again.
Please, God. Don't let him die. I need him.

“Breathe, Kevin, three, four…” Emily continued the cycle as the ambulance's warbling siren grew louder, then came to a sudden halt. Kevin coughed—a weak but welcome sound.

Emily felt a surge of relief as voices ordered the crew to move back. A man at Kevin's head offered to take over.

Emily glanced up to the EMT. “He just started breathing again after I dislodged a piece of candy.”

“We'll take over, miss.”

“I'm a doctor, and I'm
not
leaving the patient. Get the backboard and cervical collars ready. A window fell on him. He could have spinal cord injuries. Possible concussion. He's still unconscious.” One medic ran to the truck, while the other quickly wrote the vital information Emily was rattling off on a piece of white athletic tape stuck to his pant leg.

“Sorry, Doctor. How long did you say he went without breathing?”

“Two, maybe three minutes.”

“But he's breathing on his own now? That's a relief.” While he talked, he took a penlight from his pocket and checked Kevin's pupils. “Good job, Doctor. It looks like you got his airway opened fast enough. The pupils are still reactive. I agree, could still be a concussion. Too early to tell for sure, isn't it.”