“Nothing we can make sense of yet. He keeps pointing at the letters, but he’s so unsteady it’s hard to tell what he’s trying to spell so far.”
“Why are you out here, Mom?”
“They had to do some … stuff in there. Now that he’s awake, I feel like he should have some privacy, I guess?” She brushed something nonexistent off from her jeans. “That probably sounds stupid. We’ve been married for thirty-three years. It’s not like I haven’t seen all there is to see.”
Ethan smiled. “Well, as a man, I can say that even after thirty-three years, I’d appreciate the privacy if some nurse was doing … stuff to me.”
“Diana? Want to come back in?” Gayle stood in the doorway, rubbing sanitizer into her hands, an impish grin on her face. “Hey there, Josie. Move fast and I can sneak you in while Ida’s on her break.”
Ethan stood as Josie and Mom started to follow Gayle into the hallway. “I’ll just wait out here for you guys.”
“You don’t have to, Ethan. Really. Mom can bring me home.”
“I want to.” He picked up an ancient, dog-eared magazine from the table beside him. “I’ll be right here.”
Josie tried to ignore the way his simple words made it feel like warm syrup was circling her insides, but it was a feeling so strong—so good—that she just wanted to wrap her arms over her stomach and hold it tight.
Gayle bustled Mom and Josie into Dad’s room and pulled two chairs to his right side. “Here you go, ladies. This way he can see you better.” She handed what looked like a kids’ alphabet whiteboard to Mom, along with a thick black pointer. “Want to see if we can try again?”
Josie looked into Dad’s eyes as she settled gingerly into her chair. They were clearer than they’d seemed last time—more focused, less vacant. He was staring right at Mom, and was she imagining it, or was his mouth trying to smile? The right side of his lips was raised just a smidge.
“Look, honey. I brought Josie along this time!” Mom pointed her way, and Dad’s eyes moved slowly to lock on Josie. Josie held her breath, not knowing what his reaction might be. He looked at her face, then down at her hands, then slowly back up at her face, and again it looked like he was trying to smile. Then he lifted his right hand off the bed and reached toward Mom.
“You want to try the letters again?” Mom held the board as she curled his fingers around the pointer. “Here. Go ahead.”
With what looked like almost painful effort, Dad skated the pointer over the board, struggling to stop on particular letters. When Mom had guessed three in a row, unsure of whether she was right or wrong, Dad closed his eyes, appearing frustrated.
Josie leaned toward him. “Dad, how about you blink once if we guess wrong and twice if we’re right?” His eyes opened wide and he gripped the pointer again. Josie watched the board as he moved the pointer. “O?” One blink. “P?” Two blinks. “Okay, P! Go ahead. What’s next? I?” One blink. “J?” One blink again. “Sorry. Sorry. U?” Two blinks. “U! P-U!”
Josie wrinkled her nose. “P-U? Are you joking with us?” One blink, then a hard tap on the board. “Okay, sorry. Keep going.” He tapped and blinked as they guessed, and by the time he put down his hand, exhausted, Josie felt warm droplets of water running down her cheeks.
“Punkin. You spelled punkin, Dad.” Her voice came out in a sob. “That’s me.”
Two blinks.
* * *
“Okay, you are banned from the dairy aisle, Mom. You have got to start eating something besides yogurt.” Josie pushed the cart through the doors of the grocery store on Sunday morning. “Holy cow. This place is as big as a stadium!”
“Not quite the same as Gloria’s Quik-Stop, hm?” Mom smiled as she looked up at the cavernous ceilings. “You should have seen the development board meetings before this place was approved. Half the town thought it would destroy the village character forever, and the other half couldn’t wait to have a grocery store big enough to actually need wheeled carts.”
“How long’s it been here?”
“Just a couple of years, actually. And as much as I appreciated hearing the latest on Gloria’s dermatology issues each time I shopped, I’m more than happy to not know about them anymore.”
Josie smiled as she bagged up apples and plums and grapes and bananas for the cart, tossing in a melon and broccoli and green beans as they wheeled through the produce section. Mom peered in. “That’s an awful lot of fruit.”
“Fruit is good for you. Quite possibly better than yogurt, even.”
“Sacrilege. Stop picking on my yogurt.” Mom elbowed her playfully as they rounded the end of the aisle and started up the next one.
Thirty minutes later, Josie wheeled the cart toward the registers and started placing groceries onto the belt. As she pulled items from the cart, she realized Mom was biting her lip, trying not to smile too widely.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re going to chomp through your lip. What’s funny?”
“Not funny. Just nice.” Mom pointed at the brimming belt and still half-full cart. “You’ve got enough food here to stay for a month.”
Josie paused with two jars of peanut butter in her hands and looked at the groceries. “This is a lot of food.” How had she managed to pull so much stuff off the shelves in such a short period of time?
Moreover, why had she loaded so much food into their cart? Now that Dad was showing signs of improvement, she could think about heading back to Boston sooner, right? Right?
Mom laughed out loud. “Don’t look so scared. Maybe we can learn to cook while you’re here.”
“That might be good.” Josie exhaled slowly, loading the rest of the food on the belt. “Especially since given my dining choices thus far, I’m going to get fat while I’m here. I really need to get some exercise before my butt resembles Sno-Cone Sally’s.”
“At least your old bike works, though I really wish you’d use my car.”
Josie paused to pay the cashier, then rolled the cart toward the doors. “I think Ike is holding my Jeep hostage so I won’t leave town. He keeps saying the part isn’t in yet.”
“Well, remember, it takes longer to get stuff up here than it does in the city.”
“I don’t think it takes this long to get a part to Alaska, Mom.”
Mom raised her eyebrows as she popped the trunk of her Camry. “You never know, I guess. Maybe someone else asked him to take his time.”
“Right.” Josie grinned at Mom, but felt her smile falter as she saw Mom’s lips press together in what looked like anger. “What’s the matter?”
Mom’s eyes darted over Josie’s shoulder, and then she shook her head like she was trying to clear it. “Nothing. Nothing. Just thought I saw a ghost there for a minute.”
Josie glanced over her own shoulder, then froze as she saw the woman staring their way.
“Get in the car, Jos.” Mom pulled the cart away from her hands and steered it toward the corral right next to them. “Come on. You don’t want to talk to her.”
Josie couldn’t stop staring at the woman, who also seemed frozen to the pavement. Then a loud squawk from inside the woman’s tiny car startled them both, and the woman tore her eyes away and opened her car door.
The car sped out of the parking lot and before Josie realized she’d stopped breathing, Mom’s arm was over her shoulder, turning her around toward the Camry. “Don’t think about her. She hasn’t changed. Not one bit.”
Josie stumbled into the passenger seat, breathing faster than she should, but she couldn’t slow down. As Mom slid into the driver’s seat, Josie turned to her. “How can the state keep giving her foster kids? She doesn’t deserve children.”
“No.” Mom shook her head emphatically as she turned the key in the ignition. “She doesn’t. She didn’t then, and she doesn’t now. She certainly never deserved Avery.”
Josie heard a sound that resembled a pathetic whimper come out of her mouth, and she pressed her hand
to her lips as a memory crowded into her head.
* * *
“Are you ready, kiddo?” Josie grabbed the handles of Avery’s wheelchair. Once again, Avery’s foster mother had asked Josie to pick her up at the hospital after her one-week stay. Apparently her hair appointment had been more important than her child this morning.
“Super-ready, Jos! Can you do NASCAR-style on the way out?”
Josie laughed. “I think there’s a rule in the Big Sis handbook about wheelchair racing. If we crash, they might kick me out of the program. Then they’d give you a horrible awful new sister who’d make you eat broccoli and never take you to Snowflake Village.”
“Horrors.” Avery shivered dramatically, but reached up to give Josie a fierce backward hug. “Thanks for coming to get me.”
“Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.”
Avery waved to everyone gathered in the nurses’ station as they rolled by, blowing kisses like a mini Miss America. As they rolled through the lobby a minute later, Avery was quiet. Then she put her tiny hands on the wheels to stop them. “Wait.”
“What’s wrong?” Josie leaned down.
“Nothing.” Avery pointed toward an elderly woman sitting on a padded bench just off the lobby. “Can you roll me that way for a minute?”
“Um, sure. Do you know her?”
“Nope. Come on. Roll.” Avery pushed the wheels with her hands, trying to make Josie go faster.
When they reached the bench, the woman looked up, mystified. Avery held out her hand and said, “Hi! I’m Avery!”
The woman smiled tentatively and put her hand around Avery’s. “Hi, Avery. I’m Madeline.”
“I really like that wrap thingie you have on your head.”
In an instant, the woman’s face softened as she lifted her hands to her soft turban. “Well, thank you, dear. My daughter got it for me.”
“Do you think they make those in orange?”
“I bet they do, sweetheart. I bet they do.” Then she put her hand on Avery’s knee. “In the end, it’s a small price to pay for getting better. Hair grows back, after all. You might even get curls next time around!”
“I know, but I really think I look terrible bald.”
“I think you look beautiful, sweetheart. I bet no one even notices your hair when they see that smile of yours. Your heart shines right through it.”
“Thanks, Miss Madeline.” Avery squeezed her hands. “Maybe I’ll see you here again.”
“Maybe,” Madeline replied softly. “I’d sure love that.”
Avery put her hands on her wheels and pushed backward slowly, then stopped to blow her a kiss. “Flutterby kiss!”
As Josie turned the wheelchair toward the door, she leaned down to kiss Avery on the head. “Hey. I thought flutterby kisses were reserved for me and Ethan.”
Avery tipped her head thoughtfully as they emerged into the bright August sunlight. “They are, but she looked like she really needed one.”
Chapter 27
“So Dr. Heath called again. He’s—quote—still very anxious to speak to you about the symposium in Seattle next month.” It was three days later, the park had been sprouting problems like dandelions all day, and Josie had only picked up the phone because she feared Kirsten might be calling about a patient. But no.
“Does that man not understand the word no? I won’t even agree to go to dinner with him. Why in the world does he think I’d drop everything and head off to Seattle for a conference with him?”
“You’ve gotta give him points for persistence. And Seattle’s nice this time of year.”
“Not funny, Kirsten.” Josie adjusted a soda nozzle as she clamped her phone between her shoulder and her ear. “Did you tell him I’ve retired and moved to the Himalayas?”
“He didn’t believe me. Also couldn’t get him on board with your solo sail around the world. Or your midlife-crisis trip to Siberia.”
“Midlife crisis? I am not midlife.”
“I’m happy to forward him your way if you’d like to come up with better ideas.”
Josie laughed. “You’re doing just fine.”
Kirsten sighed. “I could tell him it’s really unfortunate, but you perished in a freak moose accident. Maybe he and I could go out for drinks to mourn together.”
Josie laughed out loud. “You do like Seattle.”
“You’re right. I am that shallow.” Kirsten shuffled some papers on her desk and cleared her throat. “So listen. Given that it’s Wednesday and you’re still up there … what are your thoughts about next week? Still think you’ll stay up there? Should I try to shuffle patients again?”
Josie clamped the front of the soda dispenser shut, then nodded to the teen manning the snack cottage as she slid out the side door. This was the third repair job she’d done already this morning, and she was only doing the easy ones since Ben already had his hands full with a couple of rides that had decided to pop screws overnight.
Ethan was—she had no idea where. He’d headed out of the office this morning with a quick wave, and she hadn’t seen him since.
She put her free hand to her forehead and grimaced. “I just don’t know. Dad’s finding more words each day, it seems. They’re still waiting for a rehab spot to open. I feel like maybe I should at least stay up here until he’s settled wherever he’s going to be for the short term, you know? Just to be sure Mom’s okay?”
“Of course.”
“But I know this is putting you in a serious lurch. I’ve already been gone almost two weeks, and I know you can’t keep covering my patients and your own.”
“Speaking of which, Britney took herself to the ER last night.”
“Oh no. What happened? Did she call us first?” Britney was nineteen, with a medical file two inches thick already. Josie had talked her through a full slate of real and imagined crises over the past year, and was finally getting close to convincing her to stay on her meds regimen. Or thought she was, anyway.
“She did.” Kirsten’s voice was tentative. “But she wasn’t crazy about talking to me.”
“Ugh.” Josie stopped at a green metal bench and sat down, staring into the pines. If she was a physician who dealt with people’s physical issues, it’d be so much easier to leave her patient load in the care of a colleague. But emotional problems were a whole different ball game. It took forever to gain the trust of patients, to get them to open up, to get them to a space where they’d accept help.
Britney was the perfect example. She’d been working with her for months, and two weeks after she’d finally broken through the girl’s ironclad shell, she’d been unreachable when Britney needed her. Dammit.
“I’m really sorry, Kirsten. Really sorry. Is she doing okay?”
“She’s stabilized.”
“Did you try to reach me?” Josie fumbled her phone while she talked, trying to see whether she’d missed Kirsten’s call.
“I didn’t know about her until she was admitted, and then I thought I could handle it, but she’s a tough cookie to crack.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You can stop apologizing. It is what it is, right?” Was it Josie’s imagination, or did Kirsten sound a little tense? “We’ll get through this. It’s part of having a partnership. If we were in a hospital, there’d be other therapists to step up and fill the gaps. But there are only two of us, so if one’s down, the other’s gotta make it work.”
“I had no idea I’d be gone this long, though. This is too much for you.”
“I’m totally taking a two-week vacation when you get back, so don’t worry. I’ll get my payback.”
“I don’t know, Kirsten. I wish I could be in both places at once. I just wish we knew someone who could—hey!” An idea flashed into her head. “Do you remember Jordan Romano? You met her at that dinner a month back?”
“The one who just moved back from Denver? Sure.”
“Do you think maybe … could we maybe ask her to fill in for a week or two until I get back? Since she hasn’t foun
d her own setup yet?” Silence greeted her question. “I know it doesn’t solve the Britney-type problems, but maybe we could have her do some of the lower-risk patients?”
“I don’t know, Jos. It’s a lot to ask of her.”
“She might be hungry for the work. And I can’t leave you alone to handle everybody. We thought I was only coming up here for the weekend, remember? And now we’re going on two weeks. It’s not fair to you.”
“You’d do the same for me, and you know it.”
“Nope. I’d have Jordan installed in your office in three minutes flat.”
“Funny. It just feels … weird, I guess. This office is our baby. I feel strange having someone else come in.”
“Just temporarily.”
“You say that now.”
“Oh, I mean that.”
“You mean that now. I know. But you never know.” Kirsten’s voice trailed off.
“Just think about it, okay? We don’t need to decide right this minute.”
“All right. I’ll think about it. I won’t like it, but I’ll try to come around to at least contemplating it.”
Josie smiled. “Good girl.”
“So I can’t hang up without asking how Ethan is.”
“Sure you can. He’s fine.”
“Any more non-dates?”
“No. The park’s crazy-busy, and I’ve been at the hospital pretty much every other minute. We’ve barely seen each other.”
“And you’re good with that?”
Yes. No. Yes. Definitely no. “Yes. Definitely.”
“Because the possibilities are frightening?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
Kirsten sighed. “Safe’s overrated, Jos. If you’re going to be up there anyway, I vote for danger.”
* * *
After she hung up from Kirsten’s call, Josie sat on the bench for a full five minutes. It was mid-afternoon, and stroller traffic had eased as parents headed for the water park at the eastern edge of the property. She put her head back on the bench for a moment, drinking in the quiet. As the swish of the pine boughs and twittering of the chickadees washed over her, she thought about Avery—about how much she’d loved this quieter part of the park where the wishing well stood.
Forever This Time Page 20
