An Unexpected Arrangement

by Heidi McCahan

“I told him I quit. He’ll have to find someone else. I’m leaving for camp the day after tomorrow anyway.”

  Mom’s eyes filled with empathy. “It must’ve been really hard for you to say goodbye to those sweet babies.”

  Laramie swiped at her tears with the cuff of her bathrobe sleeve. She’d been so angry with Jack that she hadn’t thought about how storming out of his house meant she wouldn’t see Macey and Charlotte again for several days. Maybe longer.

  “After you and Jack have a couple days to cool off, maybe you can try to work things out.”

  Laramie sighed. “Doubt it. He called me a coward.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “In a totally juvenile move, I called him a coward for wanting to leave town instead of dealing with his guilt over his father’s death.”

  “You were upset. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”

  It wasn’t her finest moment.

  “I’m sorry to hear Jack still blames himself for his father’s death.” Mom’s brow creased. “Such a tragedy for everyone involved.”

  “He needs to let it go.”

  “That’s asking a lot, don’t you think?”

  “Asking me to move to a new place because he can’t handle his guilt is unreasonable, too.”

  Her mother didn’t argue, but Laramie sensed by the way she silently sipped her coffee again that she didn’t agree.

  A wave of uncertainty and regret crashed over her. She’d done the right thing. Hadn’t she?

  “I’m not moving for a guy unless he proposes, and I’m certain Jack and I aren’t ready for marriage.”

  Mom nodded. “That’s a big commitment. Especially since he has two babies. I don’t blame you for being cautious.”

  “I shouldn’t have agreed to help him for so long.”

  “You were generous and kind, taking care of those precious baby girls. There’s no reason to regret that.”

  “Except things ended badly. I’ll be fortunate if Jack even lets me see those girls again.”

  “That’s out of your control. Take it to the Lord, sweetie. He knows what you need. Jack and the girls, too.”

  Laramie heaved a sigh. What she wanted was to snuggle those babies close and savor the warmth of Jack’s embrace. But she wasn’t moving away again. Not for Jack. Not for anyone.

  * * *

  Man, he wished Laramie was here right now. For a dozen different reasons.

  Jack had tried everything. The crying wouldn’t stop. He walked through his house with Charlotte pressed against his shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, and her little blond swirl of hair was plastered to her forehead.

  “It’s okay, sweet pea.” He patted her back with his palm, but she cried and cried, shoving a fist in her mouth. “Are your teeth bugging you?”

  He tried to look in her mouth. Charlotte cried harder, arching her back and pushing away from him. What in the world? Panic welled. He had no idea what to do, and Macey wasn’t doing much better. She’d started wailing about thirty minutes ago and hadn’t stopped. Since he couldn’t hold two babies at once, he’d set her in the crib, hoping to be able to help her as soon as he consoled Charlotte.

  Except they were both inconsolable.

  He strode down the hall to the bathroom and flipped on the light. Maybe there was something in the cabinet that was safe to give babies for teething. Holding Charlotte awkwardly in one arm, he yanked open the top drawer in the vanity cabinet and pawed through the supplies. Tiny nail clippers, toothbrushes, travel-size baby shampoo, but no medicine. He shut the drawer and opened the next one. More shampoo, some lotion and an extra pack of wipes greeted him.

  Maybe it was better that there wasn’t any medicine. He wasn’t sure if they were even old enough to take anything. He closed the drawer, turned off the light and left the bathroom.

  There had to be something he could do to get them to stop crying. Sweat dampened his T-shirt and his head throbbed. Then he remembered the teething rings stashed in the refrigerator and strode to the kitchen. Two of the green rings sat on the middle shelf. He took one and offered it to Charlotte. She shook her head and pushed his hand away.

  “Come on, sweet girl.” He jostled her awkwardly to his other shoulder. She cried louder. If only Laramie was here. She’d know exactly what to do. There was no way he was going to make it through the night with two babies sobbing uncontrollably. It wasn’t safe for the girls to cry this much, was it?

  He found his phone and called his mother. When she didn’t answer, he left a voicemail asking her to call ASAP. Macey and Charlotte kept crying, so he sent his aunt Linda a desperate text as well. A few minutes later, Jack decided he couldn’t handle the crying for another second. He sent his mother and his aunt another text, letting them know he was going to the ER, then he tucked the girls in their car seats and drove to the local hospital.

  After he parked in the first empty space, he hurried toward the Emergency entrance, struggling to carry both car seats at once. When the automatic doors parted and he stepped inside with two screaming infants, the woman seated at the front desk shot him a wide-eyed stare. Thankfully, she was a high school classmate of Jack’s and only a handful of patients sat in the waiting room.

  “Come right this way, Jack.” She opened the door that led to the exam rooms and motioned him to come through. “If you’ll give me your ID and insurance card, I’ll send the triage nurse in.”

  “Thank you.” Jack set the car seats down and pulled the cards from his wallet. While he waited for the nurse, he unbuckled the babies and sat on the edge of the exam table, the white paper crackling underneath his weight as he tried to comfort both of his daughters. Their crying had softened some, but that didn’t make him feel any better. Something was seriously wrong. He glanced at the clock. There weren’t that many people waiting to be seen. Wouldn’t the doctor evaluate crying babies first?

  “Hello, Mr. Tomlinson.” The nurse stepped around the gray curtain, her rubber clogs squeaking on the speckled gray linoleum floor. “What’s going on with these sweet babies?”

  “They’ve been crying for a very long time and I can’t figure out why.”

  “Uh-huh. When was the last time they ate?” The nurse glanced up from the electronic tablet in her hands. With her teal-green scrubs, dark hair in a neat ponytail and calm expression, she looked like a thorough professional who knew how to do her job. But couldn’t he share this same information with the doctor, though?

  “Mr. Tomlinson?”

  “I’m sorry.” Dinner felt like weeks ago, instead of just a couple of hours. “I—I tried to feed them their usual food, but they weren’t interested. Macey drank some of her bottle. A couple of ounces probably. Charlotte shoved hers away.”

  “Uh-huh.” The nurse tapped at her tablet. “And how many wet diapers have you changed today?”

  “Does it really matter?” Jack fought to keep the anger from his voice.

  The nurse’s eyebrows arched. “We have to take a thorough history, sir.”

  “They’ve been crying for hours. That’s not normal. And how much longer do they have to cry before you get a doctor in here?”

  The nurse set her tablet aside and pulled a stethoscope from the front pocket of her scrubs. “The doctor is seeing another patient right now. She’ll be in as soon as she can.”

  Jack bit back another snide comment and scooted over on the exam table. He kept a hand on Macey while the nurse placed her stethoscope to Macey’s bare chest. She screamed louder, her little hands clenched in fists.

  This wasn’t right. Jack’s blood pounded in his head. Charlotte refused to be outdone. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes as she wailed, her cheeks flushed bright pink. He’d only been taking care of them for a few weeks, but they’d never cried this much.

  “Any vomiting or diarrhea?”

  “No.” Jack raked a hand through his hair. Tha
nkfully.

  “And when was the last time you checked their temperature?”

  His breath caught. “What?”

  “It’s possible your daughters both have fevers. You have taken their temperature, haven’t you, Mr. Tomlinson?”

  Jack squeezed his eyes shut. Their temperature? He didn’t even own a thermometer. Did he? And if he admitted that he didn’t know how to take a baby’s temperature, would the social worker come and take his girls from him?

  An icy tingle raced down his spine.

  “Mr. Tomlinson?” The nurse stared at him. “Have you taken Macey or Charlotte’s temperature today?”

  “No.” He barely choked out the word.

  She sighed. “Well. We’ll do that now, then.”

  “Jack, honey? Are you in here?” His mother peeked around the other side of the curtain in the exam area. Her worried gaze toggled between the nurse, Jack and the twins.

  “Mom? What are you doing here?”

  “I was driving home from Denver when you called. I’m sorry I didn’t answer. When I saw your text, I drove straight here.” She frowned and reached for Charlotte. “Come to Grandma, pumpkin.”

  “Mom—”

  “Oh, she is burning up.” His mother’s eyes widened. “Have you taken her temperature?”

  “We were just discussing that.” The nurse studied her thermometer. “Macey’s temperature is 101 degrees.”

  “Oh my.” Mom patted Charlotte’s diapered backside. “How about this one?”

  The nurse checked Charlotte next, then glanced at the reading. “This one’s 100.2.” She updated her tablet, then glared at Jack. “The doctor will be with you shortly.”

  “Thank you,” Mom said, swaying back and forth and pressing her cheek against Charlotte’s head.

  The curtain rings zinged along the metal bar as the nurse yanked it shut behind her. Jack wanted to throw up. How could he be so clueless?

  Aunt Linda appeared on the other side of the curtain.

  “Hey,” Jack said. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I’m sorry it took me so long. I was helping Milt mend a fence,” she said. “What can I do?”

  “Hold her.” Mom pointed to Macey. “Jack, why didn’t you call the pediatrician? There’s always someone on call.”

  All he could do was shrug.

  His mother frowned and turned away. “We’ve got to get these babies calmed down. They can have seizures if their fevers get too high.”

  Seizures? That sounded terrifying. He backed out of the way as his mother and Aunt Linda hovered over the twins.

  He was completely useless here. Worse, he’d been so ignorant about taking care of babies that he didn’t know he was supposed to check their temperature. Jack swallowed against the sour taste coating his throat.

  “I—I—I can’t do this.” He couldn’t breathe. Blood pounded in his head. “I’ve got to go.”

  “What?” Mom and Aunt Linda spoke in unison, staring at him wide-eyed. “Go where?”

  “Someplace where I can’t hurt Macey and Charlotte. Please—” He barely choked out the words. “Take care of them for me, okay? I’ll never be enough for them. I’m not meant to be a father.”

  “Jack, wait.” His mother called after him, but Jack turned and fled. Past the triage nurse, past the classmate staring at her computer at the front desk, past the older couple in the waiting room and out into the dark parking lot. Macey and Charlotte never should’ve been left in his care. He’d messed up and this time his carelessness had endangered his children. He was a horrible father and they were better off with someone who knew how to keep them safe.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The gym was hot. Stifling hot. Sweat trickled down Laramie’s back as she sat on the bleachers and glanced at the clock on the wall. The black hands had only moved two measly minutes since the last time she’d checked.

  The air-conditioning had quit working before lunch, and even with the double doors propped open, very little air was circulating. Just two more hours until volleyball camp ended. Then they could load up the vans and drive home.

  Except when she envisioned home, all she thought about was sitting in Jack’s living room, playing with Macey and Charlotte.

  She massaged the ache forming in her head, then took another sip of water from her reusable water bottle as volleyballs flew through the air and bounced across the hardwood floor. The girls were working on their serving and warming up for one more scrimmage. This was usually Laramie’s favorite part of camp, but today she just wanted it to be over.

  “I’m proud of you.” Morgan, her assistant coach, patted Laramie’s arm. “You’ve been very professional all week.”

  Laramie offered a weak smile. “Thanks.”

  She’d tried to be strong. Whenever she thought about Macey, Charlotte and Jack, she’d quickly forced herself to focus on her volleyball team and the purpose of bringing them to camp. They’d worked hard to get to here, with their fundraising and their parents’ sacrifices to cover the extra costs. It wasn’t fair for her to spend the whole week crabby and distracted over her broken heart. The girls deserved her full attention.

  But she couldn’t fake her smile all day long. Staying strong every single second exhausted her. When Morgan heard her crying in the room they shared in the university dormitory late at night, Laramie had confessed that she and Jack had had a terrible argument before she left Merritt’s Crossing.

  What if their rift was beyond repair, and Macey, Charlotte and Jack were out of her life permanently? The realization stung like a volleyball smacking her in the face. And would she ever stop missing Jack and the girls so much?

  “Coach?” Hope waved to get Laramie’s attention. “Can we practice hitting before the scrimmage starts?”

  “Of course.” Laramie took one more sip of her water, set her phone on the bleachers, then stood and strode toward the net, determined to be the confident fun-loving coach her girls expected. Morgan brought the cart of volleyballs closer and they both took turns tossing balls into the air while the players formed two lines and ran through the new hitting drill they’d learned this week.

  She was only halfway through the drill when her phone rang. Laramie hesitated. What if it was Jack? Or her mother calling with bad news about her grandfather?

  Wait. You’re giving the girls your full attention, remember?

  “Coach, your phone.” Grace gestured toward the bleachers with her thumb. “Want me to get it?”

  “Ignore it.” Laramie watched as Hope attacked and slammed the ball deep into the court on the other side of the net. “Nicely done, Hope.”

  Her phone was silent for a few seconds and then started ringing again.

  “Coach Chambers?” Grace’s features wrinkled with uncertainty. “Are you sure you don’t want me to answer that for you?”

  “No, thank you.” Laramie motioned for the next girl to get ready to hit. “Let’s finish this drill and get ready for our scrimmage.”

  “But what if it’s your boyfriend?” Grace teased.

  Laughter rippled through the team.

  “Very funny.” Laramie didn’t smile. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Don’t let them get to you. She mentally coached herself not to react. Any other time, she didn’t mind their good-natured teasing but today doubt shoved its way in. What if Jack or her parents or her grandparents desperately needed her?

  You’re going to have to choose your own happiness over what’s best for other people.

  Jack’s words echoed in her head. Laramie’s breath hitched. She threw the volleyball too close to the net, causing the hitter to rush her approach and spike the ball into the net.

  “I’m sorry.” Laramie retrieved the ball. “That was my fault. Try again, please.”

  See, Jack? Look at me, ignoring the phone. How is that for progr
ess?

  The girls finished up the drill, retrieved the volleyballs, then circled up with Laramie in front of the bleachers. She gave them quick instructions and encouragement for the scrimmage, then sat down and flipped her phone over without checking the caller ID. While she was proud of herself for trying to stay present in the moment, she couldn’t stop the nagging sensation that maybe she should see who called. Morgan was more than capable of coaching while Laramie checked her voice mail.

  No.

  She’d never tolerate that behavior from Morgan or one of the girls, so it wasn’t acceptable for her, either. While her argument with Jack still hurt if she thought about it too much, and she hated that their friendship was probably over, if any good had come from her heartache, she’d learned she wasn’t responsible for swooping in and serving everyone else. Especially at the expense of her own needs. She wasn’t indispensable. And she didn’t have to make herself available all the time for everyone she loved.

  Her phone vibrated against her clipboard with a new text message and she was tempted to look. No, she wouldn’t. Whatever was happening at home could wait.

  * * *

  The silence was unbearable.

  Jack glanced around his extended-stay hotel room, his new home until he found a place of his own, frowning at the sterile brown-and-beige decor. Not a single primary color baby toy in sight. He winced at the memory of Charlotte and Macey’s toys scattered across his living room floor, then carefully hung his suit in the hotel room’s narrow closet.

  Don’t think about them. Don’t think about home.

  In his darkest moments over the last two days, when he’d felt tempted to turn around and drive back home, he’d repeated those same two sentences over and over until the panic subsided.

  Or he thought about how helpless and afraid he’d felt in the hospital when the girls had fevers, and that made it easier to convince himself to stay far away from Merritt’s Crossing. But in quiet moments like this, a memory would resurface and catch him off guard. While he’d insisted that he wasn’t equipped to be a father, there was so much about the twins that he couldn’t forget.