Promises of the Heart

by Nan Rossiter

  Ben looked over. He loved seeing her smile and sounding like her old self, but he still wasn’t sure this was the answer. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Where was the adoption event?” he asked, turning the key.

  “Home Depot.”

  “Do we have time to grab some breakfast sandwiches first?” he asked, realizing as he backed down the driveway that he’d only gulped down a cup of coffee.

  Macey shook her head. “I’m not very hungry, and I think we should go right there before someone else takes him.”

  “I think, if we are the plan, he can wait till after breakfast—I mean he’s already waited two years. Another hour wouldn’t hurt.”

  Macey shook her head again. “Let’s just go.”

  Ben sighed. One thing hadn’t changed—once his girl got an idea lodged in her head, nothing would shake it loose.

  Macey gazed out the window as they drove, lost in her own thoughts, but when Ben pulled into the Home Depot parking lot, she perked up and pointed to the tent. He drove over slowly and parked nearby while Macey tried to see if the big golden was still there. “There he is,” she said, pointing again. Keeper was asleep in the same sunny spot, and as they approached, he opened his eyes and swished his tail. The volunteer looked up, too, and immediately recognized Macey. “I thought you might be back,” she said, smiling.

  “You did?”

  She nodded. “I had a feeling.”

  Macey smiled. “Can we come in?”

  “Of course.”

  When they stepped inside, Keeper pulled himself up and hopped over, wagging his tail. “I think he likes you,” the volunteer said, laughing.

  Macey cradled the big golden’s noble head in her hands and looked into his sweet brown eyes. “Do you?” she whispered, and he wagged his tail harder and pushed his head into her chest. She turned to Ben. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

  Ben nodded, watching the dog balance his massive chest on one leg.

  “You are beautiful,” Macey whispered, kissing his copper forehead and then turning back to Ben. “What do you think?”

  He reached out to stroke Keeper’s wispy fur. “Hey, fella,” he said softly as the dog licked his hand. “He is beautiful, Mace . . . and he’s sweet . . . but I’m still not sure.”

  “Why’d you say you’d come see him then?” Macey asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know . . . I’m just not sure. I want you to be happy, but I’m just not convinced this is the answer. I mean, we both work all day and—”

  “Ben,” Macey interrupted, her voice insistent, “if we had a baby, we’d have to figure something out. At least a dog can be left alone.”

  Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “It’s inhumane to make him spend his days in a shelter,” she added softly.

  “Lots of dogs spend their lives in shelters, Mace. I know it’s sad, but it’s reality.”

  “I’m so tired of reality, and I think we can make a difference by doing this. It’s not like we have any other responsibilities,” she added.

  Ben was quiet. He could hear the sad, almost bitter edge to her voice. Finally, he relented. “Well, I’m sure we can’t just walk out of here with him,” he said. “There must be some paperwork involved and, hopefully, a waiting period. It will give us a little more time to think.”

  Macey nodded. It wasn’t the resounding yes she was hoping for, but it wasn’t no, either. Deep down, she wasn’t sure, either, but at least she was willing to take a chance. She walked over to where the volunteers were sitting. “Hi—uh . . . are there any forms involved in adopting?”

  “Yes, we have an application, and we do a background check,” one of the volunteers said, handing Macey a clipboard and pen. “It takes about a week.”

  Macey carefully filled out the form and handed it back to her. “I hope he doesn’t get adopted by someone else before we’re approved.”

  “No worries—if someone is interested, we put the pet on hold until the family has time to be approved.” She looked over at Ben, who was scratching Keeper’s long belly, and then smiled at Macey. “I think it’s meant to be. We’re going to miss him—he’s such a sweetheart.”

  17

  AS RUDY WALKED OVER TO HER BIKE, STILL LEANING WHERE HARPER HAD left it, she heard Frank calling her name, but she ignored him. She was tired of her brother telling her what to do—and what not to do. She was also tired of her mom working so much. Here it was, Sunday, their favorite day of the week, and they weren’t even going to church because her mom had gone back to the hospital. She’d begged her to let her go, too, but she’d said no, adding she didn’t know if she would be allowed to visit since they weren’t related.

  “How are they gonna know we’re not related?” Rudy asked with her hands on her hips.

  “Because you’re chocolate and she’s vanilla.”

  “So? Jesse Davis is black and her sister is white.”

  “That’s because her mom married a white man who already had a daughter.”

  “Well, that could be the same for me and Harper.”

  “But it’s not,” Cora said, “and if I drive all the way over there and you can’t go in, what do I do?”

  “I’ll walk home.”

  Cora rolled her eyes. “Rudy, I’m sorry this happened. I’m sorry we can’t go to church, and I’m sorry you can’t visit Harper. I’ll try to get home as soon as I can.”

  Rudy sighed. “Whatever,” she said sarcastically, plopping on the front step as McMuffin swished against her legs.

  Cora kissed the top of her head. “Please do what Frank says.”

  “Yeah, right,” Rudy mumbled.

  After she left, Rudy climbed on the seat of her bike and rolled across the parking lot . . . right in front of old Mr. Glover, who was pulling in. He beeped his horn, and she looked up in surprise.

  “Sorry, sorry,” she said, seeing his annoyed face.

  “Rudy!” Frank called from the front door. “You’re not supposed to be out there.”

  “I’m fine!” Rudy shouted back, pedaling her bike along the parked cars to the sandy playground at the end of their unit. She climbed off her bike, dropped it on the ground, wandered over to the swing set, and plopped onto one of the swings.

  “Stupid Mr. Glover needs to watch where he’s going,” she mumbled. “They should take his license away. He’s gotta be ninety years old and his car has a million dents in it from all the things he’s hit.” The black rubber swing was warm, and she just sat there, dragging the toes of her shoes in the sand. Slowly, she began to push off, and then she kicked her legs straight out as she went forward, throwing her weight into it. She looked up at the cloudless blue sky and then glanced at the swing next to her—she could almost hear Harper’s voice. “Higher, Rudy! Higher! Let’s see if we can go all the way around!” She swung higher and higher until the legs of the swing set started to bump off the ground. She smiled, thinking of her friend, and then suddenly remembered she was in the hospital, and stopped pumping. Oh, how she wished Harper really was her sister—it would be so perfect! Frank was so bossy, and Joe was such a baby. If Harper lived with them, things would be so much better.

  “Rudy!” Frank shouted, standing next to her bike. “Let’s go!”

  She shook her head, and he stormed toward her. “Rudy, I can’t watch you here, and Joe at home, and I’m damn tired of you not listening.”

  “Well, I’m damn tired of you telling me what to do!” Rudy said, angry tears filling her eyes. “Leave me alone.”

  “No,” Frank said. “Get home.” He stood in front of her with his arms crossed, blocking the swing. “Trust me, girl, no one’s more tired of this than I am.”

  Rudy stalked to her bike, picked it up roughly, and marched defiantly back through the middle of the parking lot.

  “I’m telling Mom,” he shouted after her.

  “Fine! Tell Mom!” she shouted back. “I don’t care!” She threw her bike on the small patch of grass next to the front step and
stomped into the apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  Frank followed her inside. “Listen, Rudy, if you think this is fun for me, you’re wrong. I get stuck here every day, after school, watching you two when I could be playing basketball. Mom doesn’t seem to understand that I could get a scholarship if I could play sports instead of babysitting.”

  “Then go play basketball,” Rudy shouted back. “I’m not a baby, and I don’t need you babysitting me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Yeah, right,” Frank muttered, sinking onto the couch and staring at the video game Joe was playing on their TV.

  “I’m not staying in this house all day—it’s too nice outside,” Rudy said defiantly, her hands on her hips. She kicked the side of the TV. “And you’re not playing stupid video games all day, Joseph Raymond Grant.”

  Joe barely glanced up, and Frank didn’t say anything—he just stared blindly at the TV, his anger raging inside him. He didn’t blame his mother, or Rudy, for the situation they were in—he blamed his father, who’d moved out a year ago because he’d “met someone new.” As far as Frank was concerned, his father could rot in hell. After he’d left, they’d had to move to this tiny apartment because they didn’t have enough money, and now he had to share a room with Joe—who was six years younger. Not to mention, he had to take care of them all the time. He didn’t mind helping out, but he had a life and friends, too—friends he never saw anymore.

  “I don’t get to see my friend, either,” Rudy said sullenly, as if she could read his mind. She plopped into a chair. “Because mine’s in the hospital.” McMuffin jumped up on her lap and she gently stroked her fur.

  “I’m sorry Harper’s in the hospital, Rudy, but it’s not my fault, so you don’t need to act up.”

  Rudy played with the cat’s tail and didn’t say anything, and Frank looked over. “We’ll go for a bike ride later, okay?” he said softly. “After Mom gets home.”

  Rudy nodded and sank farther into the chair with McMuffin purring loudly on her lap.

  18

  HARPER GAZED AT THE BLUE SKY OUTSIDE THE HOSPITAL WINDOW AND prayed Cora would find her. She’d been moved to the children’s hospital that morning, and as the nurse had filled out her paperwork, Harper had repeatedly told the nurse she needed to find Cora Grant, her case worker, and tell her where she was. The nurse had nodded and assured her she would, but Harper didn’t believe her. She didn’t believe anyone anymore. Now, she rolled onto her side as hot tears trickled down her cheeks. She’d pretended to be sleeping after all the tests, and she’d overheard one of the doctors say her heart couldn’t handle much stress, and although she’d promised Cora she wouldn’t worry, she couldn’t help it. She wanted to know what that meant.

  She rubbed her chest. The pain was gone, but there was still a funny ghostlike sensation where it had been. She brushed back her tears. She wanted to go to Cora’s—the only place that felt like home—and play with Rudy, like they’d planned. She tried to remember all the homes she’d been in over the years, and she realized Cora was right—she hadn’t been able to get along in any of them. After Tom and Mary’s, she’d been moved to a home that already had three foster kids, and that had been a disaster. Bob and Deloris had been so short-tempered, she hadn’t stood a chance. Bob had watched her every move, leering at her with dark, creepy eyes. One time, he’d come into the kitchen when she was reaching for a cookie and he’d backhanded her so hard she’d landed on the other side of the room. It wasn’t until Cora stopped by and saw all her bruises that she and the other kids had been taken from the home.

  Nine more years, she thought. She just had to survive nine more years, and then she could be on her own. No one would ever again be able to tell her what to do, or where she had to live. She’d buy her own house and have her own job and get a dog like Sundance or a cat like McMuffin. She was certain she could take care of herself. She could do it now if she didn’t have this stupid pain in her chest. Maybe after she got out of the hospital she could find Tom and ask him to let her stay with him. She’d promise not to be any trouble; she’d learn to cook, and do laundry, walk Sundance, and help out in any way she could. After all, he had to be lonely without Mary, and if she lived there, he wouldn’t be lonely anymore. Suddenly, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of that before. And if Tom couldn’t take her, she’d run away. She was sure she could make it on her own.

  There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, a different nurse came in pushing a cart with a laptop on it. “Hi, Harper, my name’s Jill,” she said, smiling.

  Harper watched Jill erase the name on the white board at the end of her bed and write Jill. “If you need anything, just ask.”

  Harper nodded.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  Harper shrugged and watched Jill check the tube in her arm. “What’s that for?” she asked.

  “It’s an IV,” Jill explained. “It’s to make sure you stay hydrated, and it’s also giving you a little medicine to help you feel better.” She tapped some notes into her laptop as she spoke.

  “Did anybody find Cora Grant?” Harper asked.

  “Not yet,” Jill said, “but I’m sure she’ll come as soon as she can.”

  “She doesn’t know where I am,” Harper said.

  Jill smiled. “Well, I bet she’ll keep asking till she finds you.”

  “Maybe,” Harper said. “Or maybe she’ll just leave me here since I cause so much trouble.”

  “I doubt that,” Jill said, laughing. “How much trouble can you be?”

  “Oh, I can be a lot of trouble,” Harper said with a sigh.

  Jill looked up but showed no sign of hearing what Harper had just said. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Well, you have to eat to feel better,” Jill said, smiling. “I’ll make sure they bring your breakfast soon.”

  Harper watched Jill roll the cart out the door and then looked down at the IV in her arm and wondered if it would hurt or bleed if she pulled it out. She knew her clothes were in the plastic bag on the chair. All she had to do was pull out the IV, untangle herself from all the wires attached to the stickers on her chest, and get dressed. No one would even miss her.

  She sat up, ran her finger lightly over the needle. She had just started to peel back the tape when there was a knock on the door, and she quickly pushed the tape down and looked up.

  Cora was peering around the doorway with a large McDonald’s coffee cup in her hand. “Hey, baby,” she said softly.

  Harper’s face brightened. “Hi, Cora! Did you bring me a big-ass coffee?”

  Cora laughed. “Lord, no!”

  19

  “OH MY GOODNESS, JOSH, YOU GREW AN INCH AND A HALF!” MACEY EXCLAIMED. “Gimme five!” She held out her hand and, beaming proudly because he’d accomplished something so amazing, four-year-old Josh Lang slapped her hand. “And you gained five pounds—you’re growing like a weed, little man!”

  Josh grinned. “That’s because I eat so much.”

  “Well, you keep eating like that and you’ll be as big as Matty Ice.”

  “You think so?” Josh asked, awestruck at the prospect of being as big as the Atlanta Falcons’ star quarterback.

  “Maybe bigger. Especially if you eat all your veggies,” she said with a wink to his mom as she showed them to an exam room.

  Josh turned and looked at his mom, his mouth open in surprise—How does she know I don’t like veggies?

  His mom raised her eyebrows and nodded, as if to say, See, I told you.

  “So, Josh,” Macey continued as she put her blood pressure cuff on his arm. “Are you really four now?”

  Josh nodded.

  “Did you start preschool?” she asked as she squeezed the bulb.

  He nodded again as she paused to listen.

  “Do you like it?” she asked, gently pulling the Velcro cuff off his arm and taking the stethoscope out of her ears.

  He nodded again. “This is my seco
nd year!”

  “Oh, wow!” Macey said with a smile as she tapped on her computer. “Who’s your teacher?”

  “Ms. O’Connor.”

  “Is she nice?”

  Josh nodded enthusiastically. “She’s really nice.”

  Macey laughed. “I guess you like her then.”

  He nodded again.

  “Let’s see . . . ,” Macey said, trying to think of the other questions she asked the younger patients to gauge how they were doing socially and developmentally. “Do you have a best friend at school?”

  He nodded. “Luke.”

  Macey looked up to see what he was wearing—light blue shorts and a John Deere T-shirt. “Did you pick out that groovy outfit?”

  Josh looked down and nodded. “My mom wanted me to wear a different shirt.” He looked at his mom and grinned as he said this. “But this is my favorite.”

  “Favorite shirts are the best, aren’t they? They just make you feel comfortable.”

  Josh nodded.

  “Do you like John Deere tractors?”

  Josh nodded. “My dad has an M he’s fixing up—sometimes he lets me drive it.”

  “An M?” Macey asked, looking puzzled.

  “That’s the model,” Josh said matter-of-factly, his face solemn. “Early John Deere tractors have letters. Newer ones mostly have numbers.”

  “I didn’t know that. You taught me something new today, Josh,” she said, tousling his hair. “You are doing great, my friend.”

  Josh nodded, and Macey smiled at his mom. “Dr. Hack will be right in.” She closed the door, changed the notification color outside the door to show Dr. Hack his patient was ready, and walked back to the staff room to finish some paperwork. She nuked her coffee (for the third time that afternoon) and sat down at her desk. It had been a long day—a long week—and she was exhausted.