by Force, Marie
Maggie woke to a sunrise photo from Key West and a text that said, Wasting away in Margaritaville. He’d included sun, sunglasses, palm tree, beach ball and cocktail emojis.
She smiled and typed her reply. It’s a tough life, but someone’s gotta do it.
The reply bubbles appeared immediately, and she waited, breathless, to see what he would say. You know it! Good luck with everything today. I’ll be thinking of you while I’m fishing, soaking up the sun and drinking beer.
Now you’re just being mean. Haha! But thanks for the good luck. I need it today.
You got this. Let me know how it goes.
I will. Have fun fishing. Send pics. I’m living vicariously!
Will do.
Maggie appreciated the boost the exchange with him had given to what would be a tough morning. Looking forward to sharing the details with him later made it seem more bearable. She got dressed in comfortable jeans and a lightweight top as the temperature was set to top seventy-five. She’d been warned to expect a humid summer that would make the humidity at home in Rhode Island seem tame by comparison.
Until then, she was enjoying the warmth and the sunshine and the occasional rainy day that kept the grass green and lush. While she missed living at the coast, she’d come to appreciate views of a different sort since she’d moved to Tennessee.
After checking in with everyone at Matthews and helping to see the children off to school, Maggie headed out to the hospital to pick up Corey. On the way, she prepared herself for the emotional battering she was about to endure so she could be ready to support Corey in any way necessary.
When Maggie got to Corey’s room shortly after ten, she found the young woman almost exactly where she’d left her the day before—on her side in bed, facing away from the door—but she was dressed in street clothes, and her bag was sitting on the bedside table.
“Hi, Corey.”
“Hey.”
“Are you ready to go?”
Corey didn’t answer, so Maggie walked around the bed and sat in the visitor chair, which put her at the other woman’s eye level. “You want to talk about it?”
“Nothing to say.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
Corey gave a subtle shake of her head.
They sat together in silence until a nurse named Eleanor came in with discharge paperwork and a wheelchair. The woman was in her fifties, with dark hair and kind eyes. “You’re all set to go, Ms. Corey. Can I help you up?”
Corey fisted the blanket and began to cry. “I don’t want to leave him.”
Maggie felt helpless in the face of the other woman’s heartbreak. She wished there was something she could do for her.
“Would you like to visit him before you leave?” Eleanor asked.
Corey visibly brightened at the prospect of seeing her baby. “I can do that?”
“I’m sure we can arrange it.”
Corey looked to Maggie. “Do you think I should?”
Oh God, what to say? “If you see him, will that make it harder to leave?”
“I don’t know.” Corey sat up, moving carefully and slowly. She glanced at Eleanor. “What do people usually do?”
“Some want to see the babies while others prefer not to.” Eleanor sat next to Corey and took hold of her hand. “Personally, I think it might help you to see him once, so you have an image of him to take with you when you leave.”
Maggie wasn’t sure she agreed with that, but it wasn’t up to her.
“I… I think I’d like to do that. T-to see him. Just once.” To Maggie, she said, “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.” Maggie told herself she could handle this, but in fact, she wasn’t at all sure she could. Nowhere in the job description Kate and Reid had given her was the sentence “go with heartbroken mom to see child being given up for adoption for the last time.” She grabbed Corey’s bag and discharge paperwork and followed them out of the room.
Thank goodness for Eleanor, who had obviously done this before and pushed Corey in the wheelchair to the NICU. Bringing the chair to a stop outside the door, Eleanor went around to squat in front of Corey, laying her hand over the young woman’s. “He’s going to be attached to a lot of tubes and machines. It’ll be frightening to look at, but he’s stable and doing as well as can be expected.”
Corey stared at the double doors to the NICU, her expression unreadable.
“Are you sure you want to do this, honey?” Eleanor asked.
Corey nodded.
Eleanor stood and pressed a button on the wall that brought another nurse to the door. The two women conferred before the one inside the NICU stepped aside to hold the door to admit the wheelchair.
Maggie brought up the rear, her heart in her throat as she took in the bright lights, the tiny incubators, the machines, the tubes, the quiet urgency of life-and-death struggles. She swallowed hard, fighting to keep it together for Corey, to get her through this. That was Maggie’s only goal.
Eleanor parked the wheelchair next to one of the incubators.
Maggie noted the label: Baby Boy Gellar.
Corey had told Maggie the day before that she hadn’t given him a name, choosing to allow his adoptive parents to name him.
Raising her hand, Corey touched the outside of the incubator and leaned in for a closer look at the baby.
His chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
Maggie had never seen a premature baby, except for on television, and was unprepared for the sight of such a tiny human. She blinked back tears as she watched Corey stare at the baby.
“Do you have any questions?” the NICU nurse asked.
“Is he going to make it?”
“I can’t say for sure yet, but he’s stable, which is a very good sign.”
Corey seemed satisfied with that response. “Someone will want him, right?”
“Absolutely,” Eleanor said. “The social workers have already reached out to several agencies. I expect they’ll have someone in the next day or two.”
“Will I be notified?”
“If you’d like to be.”
“I would. I want to know he has someone.”
“I’ll make sure you’re told.”
That seemed to pacify Corey. “I think I’m ready to go now.” She kept her gaze fixed on the baby until Eleanor moved the chair toward the door and she had no choice but to look away.
In the elevator, Maggie noticed tears rolling down Corey’s cheeks, but the young woman didn’t make a sound as she stared straight ahead. Eleanor waited with Corey while Maggie went to get the car.
With Corey loaded into the passenger seat, Eleanor leaned in to grasp the young woman’s hand. “I’ll pray for you and for your baby.”
“Thank you for everything.”
“You’re a great mom to do what’s best for him, even if it’s breaking your heart.”
Corey nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Eleanor stepped back and closed the door. She handed a business card to Maggie. “Call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Eleanor. You’re very good at your job.”
“Some cases are more difficult than others, which I’m sure you’re learning in your job.”
“For sure.”
“She’ll be all right. It’ll take some time, but she’ll bounce back.”
“We’ll take good care of her.”
“She’s lucky to have y’all at Matthews. I’m sure I’ll see you around before much longer.”
“No doubt. See you.”
Chapter 14
Maggie got into the driver’s seat and put the car into gear, heading for home with the window open to let in the warm spring air. She kept the radio turned down low so as not to disturb Corey, who didn’t say a word on the thirty-minute ride. Only the sound of an occasional sniffle came from her.
Maggie left her alone, deciding to take her lead from Corey. Back at the house, Arnelle was waiting to greet them and whisked Corey upst
airs to her room to get her settled in bed. Maggie headed for her office and sat in her desk chair, releasing a deep breath.
Teresa came in a minute later. “How’d it go?”
“What’re you still doing here?”
“I hung out until you guys got back to see how you made out.”
“She asked to see the baby before we left.”
“Ugh.” Teresa sat in the other chair. “How was that?”
“Brutal, but she held up better than I would have.”
“She knows she’s doing the right thing. That helps.”
“I guess. Who knows what the right thing is in this situation?”
“She knows. She knows she isn’t equipped to deal with a baby with the health problems he’s going to have for quite some time. It was the right thing for both of them under the circumstances.”
“I suppose so.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, of course. It’s not about me.”
“Maggie… This is tough stuff. It’s okay to feel undone by it.”
“That’s good to know, because it was rough, and I just tried to hold it together for her.”
“You’re doing great. She needed someone there with her, and you provided that shoulder for her to lean on. You did your job and then some.”
“Thanks for the support. I appreciate it. Now go home and get some sleep.”
“I’ll see you tonight.”
“I may not be here. Got the family in town to meet Poppy.”
“Oh, that’s right. Enjoy that.”
“I will. Thanks for sticking around.”
“No problem.”
A few minutes after Teresa left, Mitch came to the door with a bowl and a glass that he put on Maggie’s desk. “Greek yogurt with homemade granola and locally grown blueberries and sweet tea.”
“Thank you, Mitch.”
“Figured you could use a snack.”
“You figured right.”
He glanced toward the stairs and then back at Maggie. “Is she all right?”
“Not at the moment, but I hope she will be. In time.”
“Would it be all right to take a snack up to her?”
“That’d be lovely, Mitch. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
“Great.” He seemed relieved to be able to do something for the young woman. “We’ll get her through this, Maggie. One day at a time.”
Maggie was moved nearly to tears by the sentiment coming from the usually brusque man. “Yes, we will. Thank you.”
He nodded and left the room.
Maggie ate the yogurt and delicious granola and then let her hair down from the ponytail, running her fingers through the long strands and massaging her scalp as she tried to process the overabundance of emotions. She had to keep telling herself that she hadn’t given up a baby. Corey had done that, not her. As a bystander, she’d absorbed Corey’s grief so fully that it felt like she’d lost something dear to her. She needed to shake off those feelings so she could get back to work on behalf of the other residents, who were counting on her to keep her shit together so she could help them do the same.
This was no time for a meltdown.
She could tell herself that a hundred times, but fearing the meltdown would materialize anyway, she left the office and went out the kitchen door to the stables to see Thunder.
As always, Thunder was happy to see her and nuzzled her neck as she shed some tears into his coat. “Tough day, buddy.”
He nickered in response, which made her smile.
“Morning, Ms. Maggie,” Derek said from behind her.
“Morning.” Maggie hastily wiped away her tears before she turned to the older man. “Are you feeling better?”
“Much better, thank you.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“Is everything all right?” Derek asked.
Maggie thought about that for a second. “It will be. Eventually.”
“Let me know if I can do anything for you.”
“That’s very sweet of you. Thank you.”
He went on his way, tending to the horses while Maggie spent another few minutes with Thunder while giving thanks for the great people who were supporting her on this journey. “I’ll try to get back for a ride later.”
The horse nuzzled her, giving her exactly what she needed to continue her day.
She kissed his nose and walked back to the house, feeling fortified by the time with him. Horses had always done that for her, had calmed and sustained her through the most difficult times in her life. After her mother’s accident, riding had given her an outlet to deal with the pain.
Arnelle was in the kitchen getting a cup of coffee when Maggie came in.
“How is she?” Maggie asked.
“She’s resting.”
“That’s good. She has to be exhausted.”
“We’ve got another situation.”
Maggie steeled herself for the next challenge. “What’s that?”
“Debbie McBride sent the kids out this morning but didn’t come down to breakfast with them or see them off to school, which she always does. I knocked on her door earlier and again just now. She didn’t answer either time. I know the policy is to respect their privacy, but we’ve done that. It might be time to take it to the next level.”
Maggie processed the information before going to her office to retrieve the pass key from a locked drawer in her desk. Upon arrival, each of the residents signed a form acknowledging that Matthews House staff could enter their rooms at any time, for any reason, without prior notice. However, this was the first time she’d had to use that key.
She followed Arnelle upstairs to the second floor, where they knocked on Debbie’s door again.
When there was no answer, Maggie inserted her key into the lock and opened the door.
The room consisted of four twin-size beds, a large wardrobe closet and a tub full of toys in the corner. Debbie appeared to be asleep on one of the twin beds.
Arnelle approached her and tried to wake the woman, who didn’t stir. She placed her fingers on Debbie’s neck and then looked at Maggie, shaking her head.
Maggie’s heart dropped. Dear God. The woman was dead? She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll call the coroner.” She went into the hallway, ducked into the bathroom, closed the door and pulled her cell phone from her back pocket. She googled the number for the Davidson County Coroner and put through the call.
“I need to report a death at Matthews House,” she said, giving the address.
“Was there an accident?”
“Not that we’re aware of. One of our residents was found deceased in her bed just now.”
“We’ll send someone right away. Please don’t touch the body and leave everything just as it was when you found her.”
“Will do. Thank you.” Maggie left the bathroom and went back to the room. “Arnelle, come out, please.”
Arnelle joined her in the hallway.
Maggie shut the door. “We have to leave her and everything in the room just as we found it.”
Trish Lawson came down the hallway, carrying a glass of Mitch’s iced tea in one hand and holding Chloe in her other arm. “What’s wrong?”
Maggie hesitated, but only for a second. “Debbie McBride has passed away.”
Trish’s face went flat with shock. “What? What happened?”
“We don’t know. After the kids came down alone this morning, Arnelle checked on her. When she didn’t answer her door, we entered the room and found her deceased.”
“My God,” Trish whispered. “That poor woman. And her babies…”
“What do we know about the extended family?” Arnelle asked Maggie.
“She has family in Arizona.”
“You should call them. If we can get them here to care for the kids, DCS might not take them.”
Maggie nodded. “I’ll go do that now.” She raced down the stairs and into her office, closed the door, booted up her computer, typed in her access
code and called up her file on the McBride family. She found the next-of-kin contact for Debbie McBride listed as her mother, Karen Truver, in Phoenix. Before she could give herself a chance to freak out about what she had to do, she put through the call on the desktop phone.
“Hello?”
“Is this Mrs. Truver?”
“It is. Who’s calling?”
“This is Maggie Harrington at Matthews House in Nashville, Tennessee.”
The other woman gasped. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Maggie closed her eyes and forced herself to say the words. “I’m sorry to have to tell you that Debbie has passed away.”
A loud scream came from the other woman. “Oh God, no! Oh Lord.” Karen broke down. “What happened?”
“We aren’t sure yet. The coroner is on the way.”
“And the children? Are they there?”
“They’re at school right now but will be home about three thirty.”
“I’ll come for them. I have documents to prove that Debbie designated me as their emergency guardian should the need arise. I’ll see about a flight and get there as soon as I can. May I call you back on this number?”
“Of course.” Maggie also gave the woman her cell number. “Whatever we can do for you.”
“Thank you so much. Debbie was so happy since she’d been at your facility. She said she could breathe for the first time in years.”
“We’ve enjoyed having them.”
“If you would… Wait for me to get there before you tell Mandy and Patrick.”
Maggie tried to figure out what they would tell the children in the meantime. “We’ll do our best.”
They ended the call, and Maggie took a second to glance at her texts, noting a new one from Brayden that she would read later and another from her dad asking when would be a good time to come by to visit.
It’s going to have to be tomorrow, Maggie replied. Sorry.
He wrote right back. No problem.
Maggie put through a call to Kate, who answered on the second ring. “Sorry to bother you.”
“No bother. I was just doing some baby gazing.”
“How is she?”
“Delightful and perfect.”
“So, Kate, I’m calling you as my boss and the owner of Matthews House to tell you that Debbie McBride, one of the mothers, passed away in her room.”
