How the Heart Runs

by Anne Marie Rodgers

“I don’t know, Kate. Is it even possible to make yourself ill? Short of taking something that would make you sick, of course?”

  Kate nodded. “I read a story in the paper a few weeks ago about a woman who actually did become ill after spending several years acting as if she was.”

  “That could have been a fluke.” Paul wasn’t sure he could buy into a story like that.

  “Or maybe she isn’t doing it on purpose. You said yourself she seemed sad. And the way she reacted to a phone call she got the other day makes me positive she’s struggling with some big emotional issue. Could stress or anxiety be making her physically ill?”

  Paul’s eyebrows rose. “Now that I’ve heard stories about. If you research it, I bet you’d find lots of documentation. I’d have to say it’s possible. Unlikely, but definitely possible.”

  KATE HEADED BACK to the Miller home to watch the three children again. Stephanie’s release from the hospital was scheduled for the next day, and in any case, she was going to need help for several weeks at least, given the magnitude of the abdominal surgery she had endured.

  Alaina, the baby, was sleeping when Kate arrived, and Adam was singing along with gusto to a children’s program on television. Anna, who had greeted Kate so happily at church, was having none of her today. As she had the previous week, she screamed when her father left. The chief difference was that this time it took less than a minute before she stopped screaming and demanded, “Down.”

  Kate read Anna stories and helped her with a wooden puzzle. Her own children had loved puzzles, she recalled. So did her grandchildren. That thought reminded her that in five more days, she’d be seeing her son and his family. She smiled as she tapped a puzzle piece that Anna had missed.

  When Adam finished his program, the three of them took sidewalk chalk out into the Millers’ driveway and created a complicated roadway on which the children “drove.” Adam was on a sturdy blue tricycle-looking thing, and Anna was chugging along in a tiny orange-and-yellow car when Kate’s cell phone rang.

  She fumbled in the pocket of the snug fleece vest she wore and pulled out her cell phone.

  Flipping open the little phone, she said, “Hello?”

  “Kate?”

  “Yes, this is Kate.”

  “Oh, hello. This is Emmaline...Ashford,” she added, as if Kate might know half a dozen ladies named Emmaline.

  “Good afternoon, Emmaline. How are you?”

  “I’m doing well.” There was a lilt in Emmaline’s voice; she sounded as if she was feeling well. It was a huge contrast from her last phone call and from the sad, depressed woman Kate had left the previous day. “Kate, I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

  “Ask away. If I can manage it, I’ll be happy to help.”

  “My sister called again. Her schedule changed, and she’s coming tomorrow. First thing in the morning!”

  Kate realized why the other woman sounded so happy even as she detected a note of agitation in Emmaline’s voice.

  “I don’t have anything to eat in the house, and I was hoping that perhaps you could take me to the grocery store.”

  “Take you to the store?” Kate repeated. “Why can’t you drive?”

  There was a momentary silence. “I can drive,” Emmaline said. “But walking through the store, pushing a cart, picking up grocery bags—I’m afraid all those activities would be too much for me.”

  Kate was beginning to have her doubts about that. “Oh, Emmaline, I’m sorry. But I can’t,” Kate responded. “This is my afternoon to babysit for Stephanie Miller’s children. Do you remember I told you about her? The young mother who had an emergency appendectomy the day before you had your attack?”

  “Oh, I remember. They’re quite young, aren’t they?”

  “Quite,” Kate answered with a laugh. “The baby girl is eight months, the middle girl just turned two, and the boy is nearly five.”

  “I don’t know very much about children. They make me nervous,” Emmaline said. “But I would enjoy meeting them someday.”

  “That certainly can be arranged,” Kate told her. “But not today. And I can’t help tonight either, because I have a meeting for the children’s Christmas play.”

  “All right,” Emmaline said, disappointment heavy in her tone. “I guess I’ll just have to wait and ask Francie to take me. I hate it, because she’s flying down and then driving out here from Chattanooga, but there’s no help for it.”

  “Why don’t you call Renee? Or perhaps I could find another lady from the church to take you.”

  “Oh, no.” Emmaline sounded horrified. “You’re my friend. I feel bad enough about asking you. I could never impose on a stranger.”

  An arrow of guilt shot through Kate, though she knew her refusal was legitimate. Emmaline knew so few people in town. Frank Miller had left Kate the keys to the family van, in case she needed to go somewhere, although, as he said, “Taking all three of them out in public is a gamble. You just never know what might happen.”

  “Well,” Kate said hesitantly, “I suppose I could bring the children along.”

  If she had intended to deter Emmaline with that warning, it had the opposite effect. “That would be wonderful!” she cried. “I can be ready anytime.”

  Just then, Kate heard rustling and cooing on the baby monitor she had clipped to her waistband. “The baby is just waking up,” she reported, “so we can start getting ready. It will probably take me the better part of an hour to get all three of them dressed and in their car seats.”

  “That’s all right,” Emmaline said. “Oh, Kate, I appreciate this so much. I promise we’ll make it a quick trip.”

  Kate doubted there was such a thing as a quick trip when one had three young children in tow. Checking the time, she decided she’d better leave a note for Frank’s mother explaining where they had gone.

  AFTER WHAT FELT like an enormous effort to get the children ready to leave, Kate was finally behind the wheel with the children safely buckled into their car seats. She had discovered, with Adam’s direction, that the CD player held a variety of children’s music, so they were singing along to a bouncy rendition of “If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands” as she backed out of the driveway.

  She directed a brief prayer heavenward for safety as she began the short drive to Emmaline’s home.

  Emmaline was as good as her word. She must have been sitting at a front window with her jacket on, because mere moments after Kate pulled the van into her driveway, she saw Emmaline locking her door and walking across the driveway. The van was higher off the ground than a car, and the two women giggled as Emmaline heaved herself into the front passenger seat.

  “Gracious!” Emmaline said. “Any mom who drives one of these and wrestles all three of those”—she indicated the children in the backseat—“must be in terrific shape.”

  “It does take a lot of energy,” Kate agreed. She turned down the volume of the CD player. “I hope you don’t mind listening to children’s music.” She rolled her eyes as the theme song for Sesame Street came on for at least the third time.

  “I’m going to be singing that in my sleep tonight,” Kate predicted.

  Emmaline laughed. “It’s delightful.” She peeked over her shoulder at Anna, who was clapping and bobbing her head. “They’re adorable.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks for picking me up, Kate. I made a short list of the things I need. It shouldn’t take long.”

  Getting into the Mercantile with all three children was no small feat. Kate took a moment to fit a baby carrier over her torso like a forward-facing backpack. She placed Alaina in it, and then took a firm grip on Anna’s hand. Emmaline held Adam’s hand.

  To Kate’s surprise, Emmaline was wonderful with the little boy, gently teasing him as he relaxed and chattered to her about everything under the sun. Kate hadn’t expected that after the way Emmaline had spoken about children the previous Sunday during brunch.

  Kate commandeered a shopping cart, and Anna rode in the seat. Adam, than
kfully, didn’t want to ride and was content to walk along with them, still talking madly to Emmaline, who needed to do little more than smile and nod.

  “Why, hello, Kate. Aren’t those the Miller children?” The voice belonged to Phoebe West, a member of Faith Briar Church and a friend of Kate’s.

  “Good afternoon, Phoebe. They certainly are. Stephanie comes home from the hospital tomorrow.”

  “My mommy!” piped up Anna, and they all laughed.

  Kate introduced Phoebe to Emmaline. Then Phoebe looked at Kate with a gentle smile and said, “Is there any way I can help, Kate?”

  For a moment, Kate didn’t know what Phoebe meant. Her question sounded almost personal. But then Kate realized what she was asking. She had a full complement of volunteers lined up to help the Millers already. “I don’t think so, Phoebe, but thank you for the offer. If anything changes, I’ll call you.”

  “I’ll be there in a New York minute if you need me,” Phoebe promised. They all laughed, and after a few more pleasantries, Phoebe moved off down the aisle.

  Emmaline’s speed was more of a shuffle than a stride, which suited Adam’s short legs well. Compared with the speed at which Kate had seen her move around the house when she was excited about something, today’s pace was slower than a slug.

  As they moseyed along, Kate picked up eggs, milk, bread, and several other items Emmaline needed. She also grabbed a few things for the upcoming visit with Andrew and his family. While she shopped, she realized just how much bending, lifting, and reaching was required in grocery shopping. It wasn’t grueling work, but it did demand a physical ability that Kate hadn’t considered before.

  Emmaline followed a few steps behind the cart with Adam. Several times, Kate found that she had to stop and wait for the pair, but Adam was chattering a mile a minute, and Emmaline was smiling and nodding, and Kate didn’t have the heart to rush them along.

  A few moments later, Kate pushed the cart past a towering stack of boxes waiting to be unpacked just outside the storeroom in the back. As she passed, Anna reached out without warning and caught a corner of a box. “Bosk!”

  The next few seconds happened in slow motion. The stack began to topple, falling backward rather than sideways onto the cart. With sudden horror, Kate realized that Adam had lagged a few steps behind her and was now in the direct path of the falling boxes. She rushed toward him, but she was too far away to get there in time.

  Just then, Emmaline lunged forward. She whipped an arm around Adam’s waist and yanked him backward as the boxes rained down on the very spot where he had been standing.

  Relief made Kate weak in the knees.

  Emmaline and Adam had landed on the floor, and the little boy began to cry. Emmaline rose to her knees and pulled him into her arms, then got to her feet while still holding him. She rubbed Adam’s back, rocking from side to side, bouncing him, and talking in his ear as his sobs subsided.

  Kate was astonished; she couldn’t help staring. Emmaline looked fine, as if she felt as well as Kate herself. The strength and agility with which she had responded to the crisis showed no sign of a woman who couldn’t do her own grocery shopping! It certainly was a marked contrast to the woman who had been making her way so slowly through the store a few moments before.

  As the noise of the boxes crashing down attracted other people, Emmaline looked up. Her gaze met Kate’s, and a deep red flush crawled from her chin to her hairline. She set Adam down and began to pat her chest, taking ostentatious deep breaths.

  Sam Gorman rushed up in time to circle an arm around Emmaline’s shoulders as she seemed to waver. “Get a chair,” he called to Arlene Jacobs, a young employee on the fringe of the gathering crowd.

  Arlene dashed away through a set of double doors and returned moments later with a folding chair, which she opened and set behind Emmaline.

  “That was quick thinking,” exclaimed Arlene with admiration. “I saw what happened. That little kid could have been hurt badly by those boxes.”

  Sam eased her into the chair. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  “I’m fine,” she said in a weak voice. “Just a little bit of chest pain.”

  “Chest pain!” Sam blanched, perhaps envisioning a lawsuit. “We’d better call 911,” he said to Arlene.

  “No, wait,” Emmaline said weakly as the young cashier began to flip open her cell phone. “I’ll be fine.”

  She fumbled her handbag onto her lap and searched through it, finally coming up with a small brown bottle. She shook a little white pill from the bottle into her palm, then in one quick motion popped the pill into her mouth and dry-swallowed it.

  “I’ll be fine,” she reiterated. “Just give me a moment or two.”

  Kate watched in silence. White pill? The magic cure the other day had been blue.

  “You take all the time you need,” Sam soothed, hovering close by.

  Kate was still incredulous. “How did you react so quickly?” she asked.

  “Just adrenaline, I suppose,” Emmaline said. She avoided Kate’s gaze. “If I had stopped to think, I might never have done it. But I acted before I ever considered the health consequences.”

  “Which are?” Kate asked pointedly.

  Emmaline ignored her as Sam said, “Do you think you should get Kate to take you to the doctor?”

  “Heavens, no.” Emmaline shook her head. “I should be right as rain in a day or two.”

  “Your groceries will be compliments of the store today,” Sam told her. “You prevented what could have been a serious accident.”

  Kate looked at Adam, who was turning in circles with his arms out, making airplane sounds. She shuddered. He’s safe, uninjured. Thank you, Lord.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kate took Emmaline home and then brought her groceries into the house before unbuckling all the children and bringing them in as well. In the kitchen, Emmaline sat in a chair at the table and cuddled baby Alaina while Kate quickly put away the groceries and prepared two cups of tea. The other two children were sitting on the floor in the living room, occupied with the contents of a bag of toys Kate had set out for them.

  Before she sat down, Kate opened an odds-and-ends drawer to put away a roll of Scotch tape that Emmaline had gotten at the Mercantile. There, on top of a haphazard pile of other items, lay three hospital bracelets.

  At the exact moment Kate opened the drawer, Emmaline said, “Oh, wait, I’ll—”

  Silence fell in the kitchen as Kate closed the drawer with a soft snick. Three hospital bracelets? Three admissions with overnight stays of at least one night? All Kate could envision was the hospital bill that she had seen laying on this very table the previous week. The one that indicated that Emmaline had no insurance.

  Emmaline cleared her throat. “Those aren’t mine,” she said. But she wouldn’t meet Kate’s eyes. She was still holding the baby on her lap, nervously bouncing Alaina lightly, her gaze on the infant.

  “Not yours.”

  “No. They are, uh, my sister’s. From when she had each of her children. Little mementos, you see.”

  “Your sister has three children?”

  Emmaline nodded, then turned her attention to the baby and started speaking to her in an animated tone.

  Kate took a sip of her tea as her brain hummed along at high speed. She suspected that the bracelets were really Emmaline’s. Her unease for the woman’s health increased, as well as her concern for Emmaline’s lack of insurance.

  Kate considered Emmaline’s recent symptoms in a new light. Could the chest pain be from panic attacks? Financial stress could be a terrible burden. Was Emmaline not only sick but also broke? Was she living in her grandmother’s house—even though she obviously preferred to be in Philadelphia—because she didn’t have to pay rent or a mortgage?

  It didn’t really fit, Kate thought, reviewing what she knew about panic attacks. Emmaline’s heart rate hadn’t been sky-high, she hadn’t been terribly short of breath, sweating or dizzy. She had seemed to have an overa
ll weakness, but her symptoms certainly didn’t fit neatly into a diagnosis of panic attacks.

  Still, if she’d been having panic attacks, Kate could understand why Dr. McLaughlin had so firmly told Kate not to worry. This didn’t explain why her activities would be limited, though. Or why she would ignore the doctor’s instructions, Kate thought, recalling Emmaline’s muddied gym shoes and Paul’s sighting of her at the gym. No, panic attacks probably weren’t the most likely explanation.

  She decided she’d have to confirm her suspicions if she’d ever be able to help Emmaline.

  “By the way,” she broached carefully, “Paul thought he saw you going into the gym on Pine Ridge Road this morning. He was positive it was you.”

  The silence that fell after she spoke seemed suddenly electrified to Kate. Emmaline was perfectly still for a long moment.

  Finally, Emmaline picked up her spoon with her free hand and placed it in her tea, beginning to stir methodically. Fixing her eyes on the motion of her spoon in the cup, she said, “Of course, it couldn’t have been me, could it?”

  “I suppose that’s what I’m asking you,” Kate began. She was becoming more and more aware of how cleverly Emmaline played with vocabulary. The question Emmaline had just posed was such a subtle evasion that Kate knew most people would say she had told them it wasn’t her. When in fact—

  Suddenly she realized that Anna was nowhere in sight. The tot had been playing happily with a set of stacking cups a moment earlier, and Adam was still sitting on the living room floor.

  “Where did your sister go?” she asked him, abandoning her questioning.

  Adam pointed toward the front of the house without even looking up.

  Kate sprinted, ignoring the twinges in her arthritic knee. Anna wasn’t in the living room, and the doors to the dining room on the other side were both closed. Quickly, she hurried up the steps, cringing to think of the tot climbing the entire steep flight of steps alone.

  As she neared the top, she heard splashing sounds. She skidded around the first door on the left, and there was Anna.

  She was smiling. “Wawa!” she said when she saw Kate.