A Mother's Special Care

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A Mother's Special Care Page 12

by Jessica Matthews


  It was a sad commentary on his own abilities to read people if Corey had seen this coming but he hadn’t. He’d even promised him that he’d talk to her about this very subject, and now Corey would tally another broken vow to Mac’s credit.

  He hunted for Lori and found her in the lounge. “I’m going to call Corey after school.”

  Two red spots burned in her cheeks as she avoided his gaze, giving the impression that she was still too angry to look at him. “He’ll appreciate it.”

  “This has been a tough week for all of us.” God help him, he wanted her to understand that he hadn’t planned things to happen as they had. Her opinion mattered, although he wasn’t quite sure why. It just did.

  She crossed her arms as if totally unconvinced by his defense. “It’s been the hardest on Corey.”

  “I know. I’m trying.”

  She raised one eyebrow. “Are you?”

  “Yes, dammit, I am.” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he did.

  To her credit, she didn’t cower. “I’m not the person you have to convince. Corey is.”

  Having said her piece, Lori planned to walk away, but couldn’t. “Look,” she began in a more reasonable tone, “I know you’re doing your best. I know you’re short-staffed and you have the morphine issue to worry about, too.” She hoped it was an isolated incident caused by a manufacturing error, but it could easily be something far more insidious. Drug abuse among members of the anesthesiology profession wasn’t uncommon, thanks to the inherent availability of the various medications and the stresses of the job. “Please, don’t lose Corey in the shuffle.”

  Mac nodded, but didn’t answer.

  She returned to the PACU, emotionally drained from worry and her confrontation. Perhaps she’d overreacted and been overly harsh, but part of her anger was directed at herself. If she hadn’t stubbornly clung to her fairy-tale notion of love, Corey wouldn’t have been placed in an intolerable situation.

  On the other hand, if she’d married Mac, he’d let her fill the gaps in Corey’s life just as easily as he’d allowed Mrs Partridge to fill them. In the end, the poor child would never know his father except as the man who occasionally visited his own home. It would be like seeing Glenn’s awkward relationship with Ronnie all over again.

  She was damned if she did, and damned if she didn’t.

  At school, instead of waiting for Ronnie to run to the car, Lori went into the school. She wanted to see Corey and talk to him herself but, according to Ronnie, he’d left early for a dentist appointment.

  Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow was Friday and their planned get-together. Although she wanted to wade into the fray and straighten the situation out right now, she had to give Mac time to take care of it himself.

  “How was your dentist appointment?” Mac asked Corey. “Any cavities?”

  “No. When are you coming home?”

  Mac glanced at his watch. Five-thirty. “In a couple of hours.”

  “Things aren’t working out, Dad. Nothing is going like I thought it would. We haven’t taken Lori on a date or invited her over for dinner.”

  “I know. I’ve been really busy—” Mac began.

  Corey continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “And she—” his emphasis leaving no doubt as to who she was “—said if I don’t get a hundred on my spelling test tomorrow, I can’t go home with Lori for our Friday night date.” His voice rose. “It’s not supposed to be this way. You promised.”

  Guilt struck Mac hard. “Calm down, son. It’s OK.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s horrible. You don’t know because you’re not here.”

  Mac rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke into the receiver. “I’ll be home by seven. Seven-thirty at the latest. We’ll hash this out then.”

  “OK, but I won’t go to bed,” Corey warned. “Even if she makes me.”

  “You won’t have to,” Mac told him. “I’ll see you shortly.”

  With his son appeased, he replaced the receiver and wondered what tasks he could postpone until tomorrow.

  A light sleeper, Lori woke at one a.m., startled by what she thought was a knock at the door. Don’t be ridiculous, she thought. Who would come over at this time of night?

  She heard the sound again. It was a knock, she decided before she threw on her robe and hurried through the house.

  To her surprise, she saw Mac standing on the porch, his coat collar turned up against the cold air.

  Fear instantly gripped her chest and she flung open the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “Is Corey here?”

  The sickening feeling grew. “Why no. Isn’t he at home?”

  Mac shook his head and worry lines bracketed his mouth. “I’ve looked everywhere. He’s missing.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “MISSING?” Lori’s stomach twisted into a giant knot. “Since when?”

  Mac ran one hand through his hair. “Sometime after ten, I think. I peeked in on him when I got home and he was asleep.”

  “Then how did you know he’d left?”

  “I worked in my office until midnight when I checked on Corey one last time. He breathes with a funny little snuffle when he’s asleep and when I couldn’t hear it from the doorway, I went to his bed. He’d arranged his pillows and covers so it would look like he was lying there when he wasn’t.” He turned worried eyes in her direction. “He ran away.”

  Too stunned to stand, Lori sank onto the sofa. “Something must have happened this evening. He wouldn’t just leave, not when he knew we were expecting him tomorrow night. Today,” she corrected herself.

  “Several things happened,” Mac said flatly. “First, he’s upset with me. I’d promised to be home by seven so we could meet with Mrs Partridge and talk about her rules. A car wreck and three emergency surgeries ruined that idea. Anyway, as soon as I realized he was gone, I roused Mrs Partridge. She admitted how furious Corey had been after she threw out the cake you’d made.”

  “Why did she do that?”

  “She said he ate too much sugar.” Lori sputtered her dismay as Mac continued, “Apparently Corey was so angry he dumped his dinner in the trash. She immediately sent him to his room for punishment.”

  Now the youngster’s actions made sense. “And when you didn’t come home on time, he decided that he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, take any more.”

  “I’d say you’re right.”

  “Why, that…that…woman. How could she have been a schoolteacher and be so insensitive?”

  “I don’t know, but she’s packing her bags as we speak. I would have called, but I was afraid I’d do something I’d regret later if I stayed, so I left.”

  Lori’s vision blurred. “Oh, Mac, I feel as if I’m to blame.” Her cake had been the final straw for Corey and her decision had brought Mrs Partridge into their life.

  “It’s not your fault,” he said, sounding defeated. “It’s mine. I relied on a person who wasn’t reliable. I’m the one who is ultimately responsible.”

  “We can sort that out later,” Lori said, pulling herself together for Mac’s sake. “Let’s find him first.”

  “Which is why I’m here,” he said. “Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

  Lori shook her head. “Not a one.”

  “Has Ronnie said anything?”

  “Not to me.”

  “I can’t believe he’s gone, Lori. I don’t know what I’ll do if…”

  His voice died and she rose to hug him. He felt warm and solid and she found it very comforting. “We will,” she said fiercely. “Have you called the police?”

  “Not yet. I was hoping he’d be here with you.”

  It was time for action, even if it was one a.m. “I’ll call Rob and Gail. They’ll watch Ronnie while I help you look for Corey.”

  He paced while she placed the call and explained. A few minutes later, with Gail’s promise that they would be right over echoing in her ears, she hurried into her bedroom to change into a pair of jeans and a
white sweatshirt. Aware of how tangled her hair was, she dashed into the bathroom, tied it at the back of her neck and rinsed the sleep out of her eyes before rejoining Mac in the living room.

  Ronnie stumbled down the hall behind her. “What’s going on, Momma?” she asked as she yawned.

  “Corey’s missing,” Lori said gently. “Do you know where he might be?”

  Instantly, she came alert. “No.” A moment of indecision suddenly flitted across her face and Mac crouched beside her.

  “If you know where he is, you have to tell us,” he said gently. “It’s cold outside and I’m worried about him.”

  “That’s just it,” Ronnie said, her eyes huge. “I don’t know. At least, not for sure.”

  “Where do you think he might be?” Lori coaxed.

  “He’s talked a lot about his aunt Liz. He said that he wanted to stay with her.”

  “Liz.” Mac snapped his fingers. “I never thought of her.”

  “Does she live near us?”

  “Several hundred miles west,” he said dryly.

  Lori turned back to her daughter. “Did he say how he was going to get there?”

  Ronnie shook her head. “You’re going to find him, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, we are.” Mac sounded determined.

  His resolve was comforting, but Lori’s fear still coalesced into a knot in her throat. There were far greater dangers than the weather to an eight-year-old boy trying to travel alone—dangers too horrible to be considered. Certain people preyed upon innocent youngsters and if he fell into the wrong hands…

  “Surely he wouldn’t try to hitchhike,” she said, trying not to let her imagination run wild. “Would he?”

  Mac visibly shuddered as if he’d imagined the same grisly scenario that she had. “Who knows? He’s upset so it’s hard to say what decision he’ll make. In the meantime, I’ll call my sister.”

  While he was punching in the number on his cellphone, Rob and Gail arrived, looking as worried as Lori felt. She quietly explained the situation as she watched Mac pace the floor like a caged tiger. Lori could see how this development had shattered him. For all of his faults, for all of his dedication to his job and his patients, and in spite of his difficulty in sharing himself with his son, he did love him.

  “All right, sweet pea,” she told Ronnie. “You need to go back to bed. Rob and Gail will stay until I get back.”

  “You’re going to find him, aren’t you?” Ronnie repeated.

  “We won’t rest until we do,” Lori promised as she led her to her room and snapped on the lights.

  Ronnie scrambled under the duvet. “Why can’t we be a family, Mommy? Corey wouldn’t have had that mean old Mrs Partridge telling him what to do and he wouldn’t have run away.”

  Lori tried not to give ground to the guilt that had wrapped itself around her heart and refused to let go. Her idea to hold out until Mac loved her wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. Her selfish wish had caused a little boy untold mental anguish and may have cost him his life.

  Unable to deal with her daughter’s question, she simply repeated the phrase that had become her mantra. “We’ll find him. Now, go to sleep. Rob and Gail are here if you need anything.”

  She kissed Ronnie’s forehead, hugged her, then switched off the lights. Eager to begin the search—failure wasn’t an option—she returned to the living room where the Naylors and a stone-faced Mac waited.

  “Well?” Lori demanded. “Did you talk to your sister?”

  Did he talk to his sister?

  Mac had barely gotten a word in edgewise once she’d recognized his voice. His ears still rang from the blistering Liz had given him. According to her, she’d called both his home and the hospital as soon as she’d read Corey’s email, but she’d never gotten through and obviously no one had passed along her messages. He thought of the stack on his desk at the hospital and winced. So much of this could have been avoided if he wasn’t torn in fifteen different directions, but recriminations would have to wait until he found Corey, safe and sound.

  “Liz received an email from Corey yesterday,” he began. “He mentioned how upset he was about the housekeeper. How he wanted to…” His throat closed as he tried to say that Corey had wanted to live with her instead of him. Corey’s rejection cut more deeply than Mac had ever dreamed possible. Instead, he simply said, “He told her what he’d told Ronnie.”

  The compassion in Lori’s eyes as she understood his meaning and his pain nearly undid him. He would have deserved any scolding she gave him but, rather than lash out, she held her tongue and squeezed his hand in silent support.

  “Why don’t we go back to your house and call the police from there?” she said quietly. “If we’re lucky, Corey may have calmed down and come home.”

  Mac nodded, although in his heart he knew otherwise. Corey had made up his mind, planned his actions, and nothing, short of a miracle, would change things.

  Mac wanted a miracle.

  By the time Mac returned to his house with Lori in tow, Mrs Partridge had wiped out all traces of her presence. From the way Lori marched into the house, if the housekeeper had been there, Mac thought it highly likely that she would have either left on a stretcher or, at the very least, with a black eye.

  By the time the police arrived, Mac had searched Corey’s room with Lori’s help. As he reviewed the history on his son’s computer, Mac wasn’t sure if he was relieved to discover that Corey hadn’t made any travel plans over the internet. He’d heard of kids purchasing airline tickets online, but Corey obviously hadn’t done so.

  Where was he?

  The policeman wasn’t much help. “If he’s already left town, it may take some time before we have a lead,” Officer Tracey warned. “The truck stop at the edge of town is always busy, day or night. Whoever might have seen him may be long gone.”

  “But you will ask around?” Mac said.

  “Yes, we will.” Armed with Mac’s cellphone number and his description of an eight-year-old boy wearing a red baseball cap, a navy blue insulated winter coat and jeans, and carrying a black backpack, the officer returned to his squad car.

  “And now we wait,” Lori said. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.” Hearing the words come from his own mouth reminded him of how Corey said the same things whenever he was resigned to his fate. God, how he missed him already.

  Deep in his thoughts, Mac didn’t notice Lori had disappeared until she pressed a mug into his hands.

  “I don’t want to lose him, Lori,” he said.

  She began kneading his shoulders and although he appreciated her effort, he couldn’t possibly relax until Corey returned. “I know you don’t,” she said. “You won’t.”

  “He wants to live with Liz.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t mean it. He’s angry and upset and he thinks it’s his only option to get out of a bad situation.”

  Mac sipped the coffee, focusing on the pain of the hot liquid against his tongue instead of the pain in his heart.

  He stood abruptly. “I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

  “All right,” she said. “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. Anywhere but here.”

  Within minutes, Mac was driving through the quiet streets. “Do you think he might have gone to one of his friends’ houses?”

  “It’s possible,” Lori said, “but he never talked of one in particular.”

  “Where did he like to go when he was with you?”

  “We didn’t visit too many places,” Lori admitted. “Other than the library, the grocery or video stores were our usual haunts. If he intends to reach your sister’s, though, he won’t waste time walking through town.”

  “Let’s hope someone at the truck stop saw him,” he said fervently. He’d barely survived after Elsa’s death. If anything happened to Corey, Mac would never be able to live with his guilt. Not in a million years.

  He drove past the high school and
immediately Lori grabbed his arm. “Look! The bus barn.”

  Mac glanced at the huge building that housed all the district’s school buses. “Yeah, so?”

  “Corey loves the Magic Schoolbus books.”

  “Is that significant?” He couldn’t understand why she was getting excited over a schoolbus.

  “Yes, it is.” She nearly bounced in her seat. “If you haven’t read those books, they’re about kids who go with their teacher on all sorts of wonderful, magical trips. They visit places under the sea, inside the body, into space—that sort of thing.”

  “OK.”

  “What I’m saying is,” she explained, “the bus takes them places. Now, he knows the school bus isn’t going to take him to his aunt’s, but if he’s done his homework, and I suspect he has, he’s learned about our bus service.”

  Mac finally understood. “Then he may be at the station.”

  “Isn’t it worth a drive over there to check it out?”

  Immediately, Mac rounded the corner and headed in the opposite direction. “Do you know their schedule?”

  “I wish I did,” Lori remarked fervently. “If he’s there, I hope he’s OK. The bus depot isn’t in a very good part of town.”

  Mac remembered more than one Saturday night when they’d patched up stabbing victims in the OR. The thought of Corey being in that environment turned his foot on the gas pedal to lead.

  He arrived in less than five minutes when it should have taken twice as long. The parking lot was empty, the interior still dark. Clearly, the company wasn’t open for business.

  “He’s not here,” he said flatly.

  Lori leaned forward to peer through the windshield. “It’s cold. He may have crawled behind those bushes near the entrance to wait.”

  Mac didn’t wait for further instructions. He drove onto the sidewalk and parked so that his headlights illuminated the front of the building. Before he’d rolled to a complete stop, Lori jumped out of her side. Mac slammed the gear into “Park”, but didn’t shut off the engine in his rush to follow.

  “Mac, look.”

 

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