You Are Invited...

by Holly Jacobs

  * * *

  IN THE DOCTORS’ LOUNGE, Finn slumped into an overstuffed chair. Seven-thirty.

  Where had his day gone?

  He was exhausted, but not too exhausted to pull out his cell phone, and tapped the first number listed among his favorites. It read, Home.

  “Hi, Finn,” Mattie answered on the first ring.

  “Hi. Are the kids still up?”

  “It so happens that they’re right here. We were about to read a bedtime story.”

  “Everyone?” he asked. “Even Zoe?” The thought of his eldest niece voluntarily having story time with the younger kids boggled.

  Mattie’s laughter floated through the line. He could picture the expression that went with it and he wished he was there to see it in person.

  “Zoe, too. Maeve ordered a new copy of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz for Abbey and dropped it off to me today at the shop, so we’re going to start it tonight.”

  “You guys finished Ramona?” he guessed.

  “Just last night.”

  Finn had sat in on a few chapters last weekend. Now he’d never know how the story ended. And he probably could live without knowing the ending, but he resented not being there when Abbey discovered how it ended.

  He hated not being with them tonight as they all started delving into Oz.

  “Hang on,” Mattie said. “I’ll put Zoe on, and she can pass the phone on from there.”

  “Hi, Uncle Finn. You coulda called my phone,” she said.

  Finn kicked himself and wished he’d thought of it. “I will tomorrow, I promise.”

  “Cool. Here’s Mick.”

  Mickey talked about his grades, and then excitedly told him about a science fair the teacher wanted to hold before the end of the school year. “I thought you could help. I’m allowed to have a mom or dad, the teacher said. I told her I didn’t have none of those, and she said aunts and uncles were fine, too. I asked Aunt Mattie, but she said you won some science stuff and might be better.”

  Mattie’s generosity humbled him even as it confounded him. She put the kids first. Always. Even when it came to science fairs.

  “Sure. I bet we can come up with something.”

  “Great.”

  Abbey didn’t have much to say other than she wanted to start her story. She told him that she’d looked at all the pictures and now wanted the words. “You wanna read it with us, Uncle Finn?”

  Finn had patient charts to do before he could go home, and his stomach growled, reminding him that coffee wasn’t enough to sustain him. Which made him think of Mattie and how she’d lecture him on healthy eating if she knew. Though his first inclination was to tell Abbey all that and excuse himself, he found himself saying, “I’d love it. Ask Aunt Mattie if she could put me on speakerphone and you hold the phone while she reads, so I can listen.”

  Finn put his feet up on the coffee table, leaned back in the chair and listened as Mattie read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.

  “Dorothy’s just like me,” Abbey proclaimed. “I live in a small house with my aunt and almost with my uncle, too.”

  Finn realized he didn’t want Abbey to almost live with him, too. He didn’t want to be here in Buffalo listening to a story and almost living with the kids. He wanted to be with them full-time.

  He wanted it more than he’d ever wanted anything.

  Bear barked, the kids’ voices intermingled as they told the dog to be quiet and move over, and Mattie corralled them all and started again.

  * * *

  MATTIE KNEW THERE WERE a bunch of chores that needed to be done, and that a Thursday afternoon at home was a rare opportunity to catch up on some. But Abbey was sick.

  The teacher said there had been a virus that was rampant at the school, and odds were that was what Abbey had, but that didn’t help. Seeing her there on the couch, quiet and dozing, brought to mind Bridget there, just a few months ago, before they’d had the hospital bed installed in her room. She liked to be out here in the living room, where, despite her weakened state, she could feel a part of things.

  Mattie knew this wasn’t the same thing. Abbey had a virus, not cancer. Every kid got sick sometimes. This was simply a bug. Abbey would be up and running around in no time.

  She kept up the silent pep talk, but no amount of reassuring herself helped.

  That Abbey was sick crowded out every other thought since the school had called around twelve. She felt as if she’d lived a week since then.

  Kids got sick, she told herself again. She’d phoned her brother, hoping he’d come in to the coffeehouse so she could go pick up Abbey. When she couldn’t get anything but his voice mail, she’d simply left him a message, put a Closed for Family Illness sign on the coffee shop door and raced to the school to pick up her youngest charge.

  Abbey had been tucked up safely in the nurse’s office. She’d looked small and pathetic when Mattie first saw her. She looked worse as the afternoon ticked by. Mattie had given her acetaminophen to bring down her temperature and offered ice chips for her scratchy throat. She planned on calling Finn as soon as his office hours were over, just to be sure she’d covered all her bases.

  It was rather handy having a doctor on call...not that she planned on telling him that.

  She was sure he’d tell her it was nothing. That’s what the nurse at school had said. Just some virus. Her mother had agreed.

  Mattie was sure she’d done everything she could, but she knew she’d feel better after she talked to Finn.

  She glanced over at the little girl, and couldn’t help but think of Bridget.

  What would Bridget do?

  Mattie felt certain that Bridget would have done something more to make Abbey feel better.

  “Aunt Mattie, Bear’s hoggin’ the couch again,” Abbey called.

  Mattie hoped her grumpiness was a sign she was feeling better. She’d asked to pick up the dog on their way home, then demanded he be allowed to come up on the couch with her. Since then, she’d whined that he took up too much space. But by then there was no getting rid of the giant dog. He’d decided that looking after Abbey was his afternoon’s personal mission.

  “Hang on,” Mattie hollered back as she opened the door for Lily and the older kids. “I’ll scootch him over.”

  Zoe and Mickey bolted inside the house, but Lily remained on the porch. “Thanks for walking them, Lil. Want to come in for some coffee?”

  “No problem, and thanks, but I’ve got to get to Miss Helen’s...” Lily glanced at her watch, then added, “Unless you wanted me to look at Abbey?”

  Mattie wanted to shout, yes, come look at her, but she knew Lily had already squeezed time out of her busy day for this. She didn’t want to inconvenience her friend any further, so she shook her head. “The school said there’s a virus going around. I gave her some acetaminophen and ice chips for her throat. Unless you have a better suggestion?”

  “Sounds about right to me. Call if you need anything else,” Lily said with a wave as she bolted toward her car.

  Mattie shut the door and faced Zoe and Mickey, who looked miffed.

  “I didn’t need someone to pick me up, Aunt Mattie. I’m eleven and old enough to walk home on my own.” Zoe gave a preteen sniff of disdain. “You could have called my cell and told me Ab was sick and I just needed to walk Mick.”

  “You’re right on both counts. You are more than old enough, and I could have called. It’s just when Lily offered, I said yes without thi
nking. Next time I’ll think it through.”

  “Me, too. I don’t need to be picked up,” Mickey echoed.

  “I know, but I’d said I’d pick you up today because it was rainy. I didn’t want to simply not show up.”

  “Cell phone,” Zoe pointed out.

  “Yes, I know.” She’d had the same thought. “I’m not used to you having it yet.”

  The kids ran into the living room and Mickey jumped on the couch and Bear dug out from under the covers Abbey had buried him under, and jumped on Mickey.

  “Aunt Mattie, Bear pulled my blankets off,” Abbey whined.

  “Here you go.” Mattie pulled the blankets back in place.

  Despite her worry, Abbey’s whining was a bit fingernail-on-the-chalkboard-ish.

  “I’m getting a snack,” Mickey yelled as he sprinted toward the kitchen. Normally, Bear would have torn off after him, but this time, he hopped back up on the couch so he was next to Abbey.

  “Aunt Mattie, Bear is hoggin’ the couch and I want some more juice.” There was a pause and for a moment, Mattie thought silence was going to reign, but then Abbey wailed, “Aunt Maaaattie.”

  Mattie tamped down her worry and the small bit of annoyance that seemed to spike with every whine, and scootched Bear over, then got Abbey more juice. She settled Mickey at the coffee table to start his homework and keep Abbey company as she started dinner.

  She was rifling through the pan drawer when Zoe came over and began her homework at the counter. Mattie set the soup pot on the stove as Zoe asked, “Can I go bowling on Saturday afternoon with friends?”

  Saturdays were Finn’s day with the kids, and Mattie didn’t want him to think that she was keeping Zoe away from him, but she also knew that Zoe deserved to hang with her friends.

  “Let me run it by Uncle Finn before I say yes.”

  “Why do you have to run it by him? You’re the boss...he’s not.”

  “Your uncle and I are partners. It’s only polite to check with him before I say yes. I’d be mad if he gave you permission for something without checking with me.”

  Mattie dumped a can of black beans into the soup pot. She preferred dried beans, but hadn’t planned to make soup, so she hadn’t soaked them. Thinking about beans was easier than thinking about Abbey being sick.

  “You’re gonna ask Uncle Finn about Saturday bowling, right?”

  “I said I would.”

  Zoe opened a book noisily, and since there was normally very little noise involved with the process, Mattie was impressed with her talent.

  “I still don’t think you should have to ask,” Zoe mumbled in such a way that Mattie knew she was supposed to respond.

  “I’m not really asking permission, I’m simply doing him the courtesy of discussing it with him.” She turned from the soup and faced Zoe. “Listen, I’m new to this. When I sometimes helped out when your mom was alive...” She felt as bad as Zoe looked when she said those words. She reached out and took Zoe’s hand. “When she was here, I could ask her. She always knew what to do.”

  Zoe gulped. “She was a great mom.”

  “The best. I still don’t know why she thought I could do this. It all came so naturally to her, but...” Naturally was not how she’d describe her guardianship. “But I’m trying. It’s nice to have some other adult’s opinion. And Finn—your uncle Finn—loves you and should have a say. He’ll be here, and if you’re bowling, it might impact his plans.”

  Zoe simply snorted her response and went back to her math problems.

  Mattie turned back to the soup. Some days she was so busy with work and worries that she forgot for huge chunks of time that Bridget was gone. Then in a wave, the feelings of loss and overwhelming sadness overpowered her.

  But she couldn’t indulge them now. She had a sick six-year-old and testy preteen to deal with. And of course, that meant that the girls were occupying her thoughts, and she felt guilty about not worrying more about Mickey, so then she worried about him.

  She handled the frozen leftover chicken she’d stashed last week in the fridge and was midway to placing it into the pot when Mickey screamed, “Aunt Mattie,” in such a way that she dropped the whole thing on the floor. She sprinted to the living room where Mickey was standing, staring at Abbey, who was jerking on the couch.

  Mattie didn’t need to have a medical degree to know a convulsion when she saw one. Without thinking, she pulled Abbey off the couch and onto the floor, then rolled her to her side. She yelled at Zoe, “Call 911.”

  “Aunt Mattie, what’s wrong?” Mickey asked, his voice quivering.

  The little girl continued shaking and it didn’t look as if she were breathing. Mattie put a finger in front of her nose, and felt nothing. She didn’t know what to do. Start CPR? That would involve laying her on her back and if she vomited, she would aspirate it. Mattie felt panicked. But just then, Abbey quit shaking and drew a deep breath.

  Zoe ran up to them. “I called them, Aunt Mattie.”

  “Call Uncle Finn.”

  She reached down and put her hand on Abbey’s forehead. She was burning up.

  “Mickey, go get bags of frozen vegetables, please.”

  Bring down the fever. She didn’t know what else to do. Fevers brought on convulsions sometimes. She wasn’t sure where she read that, but she had.

  Abbey slowly stirred. “Aunt Mattie?”

  She leaned down and kissed the little girl’s hot forehead. “I’m here, sweetie.”

  Mickey came back with the bags.

  Mattie shoved them under Abbey’s armpits and one on her neck.

  “Uncle Finn didn’t answer his phone,” Zoe said.

  “Did you leave a message?” Mattie asked, without taking her eyes off Abbey, who appeared to have fallen asleep.

  “Yeah, I left a message.” Zoe’s voice seem very small as she asked, “Is she going to be okay?”

  Mattie didn’t know. She didn’t know one thing about seizures, but she answered, “Yes, she’ll be fine,” and swore as she said the words she’d make them true. She squeezed the little girl’s warm hand.

  How had she missed how sick Abbey was? She replayed the afternoon in her head and Abbey had seemed ill, but nothing dire. She’d whined about the dog and a sore throat, she’d tugged at her ears and been warm, but nothing like this.

  “I’m sure Finn will call when he can,” she said more to herself than to the kids. Where was he? He should be here. He would know what to do. He would have known that Abbey didn’t have a simple virus.

  There was a knock on the door.

  “It’s the ambulance,” Zoe yelled.

  “Let them in.” Mattie had thought she’d feel relief when they arrived, but she didn’t. She was so sick with worry she felt nauseous.

  They took vitals, and loaded Abbey onto the gurney. She looked so pale, so helpless, her red braids stark against the whiteness of her skin. Mattie felt like crying, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t scare the kids like that.

  Normally, she’d kennel Bear, but he was the least of her worries. He could tear the house apart for all she cared. She wanted to get Abbey to the hospital. She grabbed her purse. “Come on, guys, let’s go.”

  “They can’t ride with us ma’am,” said the EMT. In a town where Mattie knew most everyone, these two were people she’d never met.

  “Just you,” the other one said.

  She felt torn. There simply wasn’t enough of her to be everywhere she was needed. “Zoe, you know how
you bring the kids home from school sometimes? This is even more responsibility. I need you to stay here and watch Mickey. I’ll call my mom to come get you guys, but you need to babysit until then.”

  It was a plan on the fly, but it was the best she could do.

  “I’ll watch him, Aunt Mattie.”

  The EMTs started wheeling Abbey toward the door. “Aunt Mattie,” she called.

  “I’ve got to go. Someone will be here for you in a few minutes. Be good.”

  She crawled into the ambulance and glanced back at the kids, feeling as if she was being ripped in two.

  * * *

  FINN GOT ZOE’S MESSAGE after he finished his last surgery. He wanted nothing more than to leave then, but he had to arrange to have someone cover his patients before he could go.

  He’d called the hospital closest to Valley Ridge for an update as he drove there. Febrile seizures were common in children four and under. Abbey was pushing the envelope at six, but it wasn’t unheard of. Most of the time, the patient was treated with acetaminophen to bring down the fever, and the underlying illness was treated.

  Abbey’s E.R. doc said she had a dual ear infection and that her temperature had dropped. They’d put her on an antibiotic for the ear infections and were ready to send her home, but Mattie wanted Abbey to stay put for observation, at least until Finn arrived.

  Normally, they’d have cut Abbey loose regardless, but out of professional courtesy, they were waiting for him.

  The hour or so drive from Buffalo to Valley Ridge normally went fast, but today, it dragged, despite the fact his foot was heavy. Mile markers that normally whizzed past, didn’t.

  As a doctor Finn knew that Abbey was going to be fine.

  As an uncle, he wanted to see her for himself. Not being there when she’d been so ill was killing him.

  Mattie’s words from their prior arguments replayed in his mind as he covered the seemingly endless miles to Valley Ridge.

  You could give the kids monetary things, but what they needed most was time.

  Time.