by Holly Jacobs
He’d thought he could juggle his career with the kids’ needs.
But maybe he couldn’t.
What if he’d had the kids with him in Buffalo when Abbey got sick?
He’d have the best babysitter, but Abbey would have wanted someone she knew and loved to take care of her.
He’d have been in surgery, and Mattie would once again be blowing in the wind. She’d be somewhere other than in Valley Ridge, looking for...
He had no idea what Mattie Keith was looking for.
He thought she’d chafe at staying put and caring for the kids, but he hadn’t seen any evidence of chafing.
He’d talked to her mom, who was watching Zoe and Mickey. She said that when the school said Abbey was sick, Mattie had simply closed the coffee shop and went to pick her up.
The kids were Mattie’s priority.
They were his, too, but he couldn’t simply walk away from a surgery.
Maybe Bridget had known what she was doing when she left the care of her children to Mattie.
Valley Ridge was too small to have a hospital, but thankfully, the nearest one wasn’t too far away from town. Finn pulled into the parking lot and hurried inside the emergency room.
“Abigail Langley?” he barked at the triage nurse.
“Exam room three.” The fact he was still wearing scrubs probably stopped her from asking about relationship to the patient.
He sprinted through the hallway and found the exam room to his left.
He drew back the curtain, and saw his youngest niece dwarfed by the size of the E.R. gurney. She was so tiny and appeared to be sleeping normally.
“Finn?” Mattie was suddenly in his arms. “I have never been so scared. They tried to make me take her home, but I wouldn’t, not until you were here and checked her out. The nurse said that the seizure won’t have any lasting effects, but she sounded so cavalier. What if they’re wrong? What if it’s something else? What if I take her home and she convulses again and this time—”
Mattie hiccuped a small sob and he pulled her close. “Mattie, shh. It’s okay. She’s okay.”
Finn had dealt with the families of patients before, but this was different. This was Mattie. She was more than his sister’s friend, or his nieces’ and nephew’s caretaker. She was...
He couldn’t identify what Mattie was to him right now. All his attention had to be on Abbey.
“She’s so still,” Mattie whispered.
“She’s sleeping. That’s normal after what she’s been through. She’s sick, but she’ll be fine.”
Mattie pulled free from his embrace. “You check her.”
Her request—well, command—suited him. He walked over to the bed and laid his hand across Abbey’s forehead, pleased that while it was warm to the touch, it wasn’t hot.
Abbey’s eyes fluttered. “Hi, Uncle Finn.”
“Hi, yourself. I hear you’re not feeling so good. I got here as fast as I could.” He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, next to her.
“I knew you’d come,” she said with the absolute certainty that only a six-year-old could possess. “I feel better now. But Aunt Mattie don’t.”
He glanced back at Mattie. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, except for the bits that escaped and framed her pale face. She looked pinched and haggard with worry—worry that he sympathized with. Though he knew most kids who had febrile seizures never had another, the uncle in him felt as scared and haggard with worry as Mattie.
“She’s worried about you.”
Abbey nodded; evidently she already knew that. “Yeah, ’cause she loves me.”
“That’s right. I love you, too.” As Finn said the words, he realized he’d never told his nieces and nephew that before. “I really love you.”
“Yeah, that’s good. When Mommy was sick, she said it was gonna be okay, ’cause she’d watch me and love me from heaven, and she was leaving Aunt Mattie and you to love me here. That’s a lot of love, she said.”
His throat constricted, but he forced the words through. “That is a lot of love.”
“My ears and throat still hurt, but not as much. I’m gonna go to sleep now.” She dropped her head back into the pillow.
“Okay. I’ll be here until it’s time to take you home.”
She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, and said, “You make Aunt Mattie feel better, ’kay? She needs lots of love, too.”
He glanced back at Mattie. “I’ll take care of her.”
Abbey smiled and closed her eyes again.
“She’s going to be fine, Mattie.”
“Yeah, that very scientific examination of yours convinced me. She’s fine.” She tried to sound tough, but he could hear the fear and the tears so close to the surface.
He picked up the chart and read through it. “Here’s how it works. She spiked a fever. It climbed so high, so fast, that her body reacted. The acetaminophen lowered her fever, so the odds of her convulsing again are negligible.” Mattie didn’t look convinced. “Almost nonexistent,” he tried.
That seemed to work better, and Mattie visibly relaxed. “They’ve put her on antibiotics for her ear infections. The poor kid will probably have more trouble with her earaches than anything else,” he finished.
Finn pulled Mattie into one of the hard plastic chairs, and he took the one next to it. “She’s going to be fine.”
“What if...” she started.
“There’s no what if,” he insisted. “We’re going to take her home. She’ll be more comfortable in her own bed. And if it’s okay with you, I’ll spend the night, just to be sure she’s fine.”
“You will?” she asked with a sigh of what he thought was relief.
“I will.” He knew that JoAnn would have a room for him, but her place seemed too far away from where he wanted to be...at home with Mattie and the kids. He wanted to be able to check on Abbey, and soothe Mickey and Zoe, as much as he tried to soothe Mattie’s fears.
He wanted to be there for all of them.
“Don’t you have to work tomorrow morning?” Mattie asked.
“Today was surgery, tomorrow’s office hours. I’ll have my partners juggle the patients that have to be seen, and I’ll have the receptionist reschedule the rest.”
In all the years since he’d started practicing medicine, he’d never missed a day. He’d hardly ever taken vacations. He loved his work to the point of excluding most everything else. Andy and Ralph were great partners. He’d stepped in when Ralph’s wife had their kids, and he never complained when Andy took time off to compete in marathons. The two of them kept assuring him that they understood this spring was hard, and they’d filled in without complaint. Now they’d hired Erik, it was even easier to manage.
Ralph had said that they all needed to remember to have a life, not only a career.
Finn had laughed off the notion until Bridget got sick.
Now, looking at Mattie and his niece, even if it had cost him his job, he’d be here. His family mattered most. “My partners will step up.”
“You’re doing this for me, not because you’re worried about Abbey. You’re worried that I’m going to have a small nervous breakdown.”
“Did Bridget ever tell you about the emergency call she made to me at 3:00 a.m. right after Mickey was born?”
Mattie shook her head. “No.”
“I drove like a maniac to Valley Ridge. Her louse of a husband was out....” He shrugged. Bridget’s ex played in a band and had frequen
tly stayed out all night, or near to it, using the gigs as an excuse. “Mickey was crying miserably and she couldn’t figure out why. She was in tears. She said she’d managed Zoe, but obviously didn’t learn enough because something was wrong with Mickey. She insisted I do a full physical there and then.”
“Was something wrong?”
“Yes. I made an official diagnosis of exhausted new mother. Bridget was up all day with Zoe, and up all night with Mick.”
“And Alton wasn’t any help,” Mattie stated more than asked.
They’d never talked about Bridget’s ex, but it was obvious that Mattie shared his opinion of the man. And he used the term man in only the broadest, biological sense. “No, Alton wasn’t a bit of help. So I stayed the night, rocking Mickey while she got some sleep. I got Zoe breakfast the next morning. Cake.”
“Cake?” She sounded as outraged as Bridget had been.
He laughed. “Hey, if you think about it, it has a lot of very healthy ingredients.”
Her laughter joined with his. Oh, it was a tired, barely there sort of laugh, but it sounded sweet to him.
“Well, maybe...”
“I knew it would make your little health-conscious heart cringe,” he teased. Then, more serious, he took her hand in his and added, “Mattie, my sister had spent three years mothering Zoe, and she still worried. You’ve only been the kids’ caregiver for a few months. You’re doing a great job.”
“Yeah, that’s why you’re suing me,” she snapped, then sighed again. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that. That’s only my fear making me snarky. Why don’t you find the doctor and we’ll get Abbey home.”
“Okay.” He brushed her hair back out of her eyes. His hand lingering on her brow. “It’s all going to be okay.” He was responsible for some of the anxiety he saw in her face. And not for the first time, he felt as lost as Mattie looked.
“Okay?” she repeated. “I don’t think so. Today has shown me that maybe you’re right. Maybe you should have custody. I didn’t know what to do. The ambulance driver wouldn’t let the other kids come, and Abbey needed me, so I left them, Finn. I left Zoe babysitting Mickey until my mom came over and got them.”
“Zoe’s eleven and perfectly capable of watching Mickey for the ten minutes it would take your mom, or someone else, to get there.”
Mattie shook her head. “No, it wasn’t okay. Bridget never let Zoe babysit. I never had a chance to outline what to do in an emergency, who to call. I left her. When I agreed to let her walk the kids home from school, we spent time playing what-if. I tried to give her tools for the responsibility. But this? I left her. I didn’t prepare her at all. And then there’s Abbey. I should have seen her temperature was spiking. Maybe if I’d given her a cool bath, or...” She shrugged. “You’d have known what was going on.”
“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have been there. I’d have been in surgery.” He realized as he said the words, they were honest. If he had custody of the kids and the school had called him to come get Abbey, he wouldn’t have left work. “I’d have been at the hospital or the office, and Abbey would have been with a sitter. The sitter would have got the call and collected her. I’d have waited to call home until I was out of surgery or whatever, just like I did with you. You were there, Mattie. You were there and I wasn’t. I wouldn’t have been around if she’d needed me.”
“So what you’re saying is we both suck at this?” Again, there was the smallest hint of a laugh.
“What I’m saying is, my sister made it look easy, but parenting is anything but. I think, given the circumstances, we’re doing the best that we can. I’ll go make arrangements.”
Finn talked to the doctor, had the prescriptions filled and had his niece checked out of the hospital.
Mattie was as quiet as the sleeping Abbey as he drove them both home. He wasn’t exactly loquacious, either. He couldn’t get around the fact that he was in surgery when Abbey needed him. If he took the kids home with him to Buffalo, there were very good odds he’d be at work during a lot of moments when they needed or wanted him around.
School activities.
Illnesses.
Heartbreaks.
The new partner had certainly lightened his load a bit, but no matter what, he’d miss things.
He glanced at Mattie, whose eyes were red-rimmed. She knew where her priority was. She’d simply shut down the coffee shop and gone to Abbey.
What the hell was he doing suing her for custody?
Was there some merit to her accusation that he sued for custody because he didn’t like to lose?
He’d like to say no. He’d like to think that of course he only had his nieces’ and nephew’s best interests at heart, but...
He pulled into the driveway. Mattie sprang out of the car. “Let me get her,” he said.
“I’ve got her.” Mattie woke up Abbey and somehow was able to carry her to the door.
He went ahead and unlocked it.
Rather than go upstairs, Mattie carried Abbey into the living room and gently placed her on the couch, which was already made up as a bed.
“Can I have a drink?” Abbey asked.
Mattie fussed with the pillows and blanket, then kissed Abbey’s forehead. “You can have anything you want.”
“Juice?” the little girl asked.
“I’ll get it.”
“Can I watch TV?”
Finn knew that Mattie didn’t normally allow television on school nights and he could tell from the glint in Abbey’s eyes she knew that as well and was pushing to see how far she could go.
Mattie handed his niece the remote control. “Just this once.”
He followed her into the kitchen. “Mattie, about what you said, about custody—”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. I can’t talk about it now. I need to call and check on the other kids, and...”
He nodded. “Soon, but not tonight. Things have changed and... Soon. We’ll talk soon. Why don’t you call your mom.”
“Thanks. It’s so much easier, having you here,” she admitted.
He took Abbey her juice and realized that it was so much easier on him being here. Lately, he admitted, he’d been living for the weekends.
He’d never had trouble making work a priority, but as he sat next to Abbey, who seemed perfectly fine now, he knew that work was no longer his priority. It was important. He still loved it, but Abbey and her siblings were more important.
Mattie was more important.
He wasn’t sure how to deal with that. And for someone who’d always known exactly what he wanted, this feeling of confusion was foreign to him. He didn’t like not knowing how to reconcile his wants and needs with the kids’...and with Mattie’s.
Finn Wallace didn’t have a clue what to do...and no, he didn’t like that at all.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
MATTIE TRIED TO sleep. She’d talked to Rich and he agreed to work her shift in the morning, so she didn’t need to think about that. Zoe and Mickey were having a sleepover at her mom and dad’s. Excitement didn’t even begin to describe Mickey’s state.
Abbey was sleeping. Mattie knew the little girl was sleeping because she was sitting in the rocking chair in her room watching her.
She needed to know Abbey was safe. Needed to be sure she didn’t wake up and need her. Even worse, needed to be sure she didn’t have another convulsion.
Finn took her temperature and proclaimed the medicine was working. Abbey still had a low-grade fever,
but that was actually a good thing. Then he proceeded to lecture her about how fevers serve a purpose and help the body fight infections.
Mattie didn’t care if they had a purpose, she didn’t want Abbey to have one. She wanted her running around the house, chasing Bear and screaming at her siblings. She wanted her to crawl up on her lap and ask for a story.
Every time she looked at Abbey, she was reminded of Bridget and all the sleepless nights she’d watched over her friend.
She’d done her best, but Bridget had died anyway.
Her head knew that Bridget’s cancer was terminal, but her heart seemed to believe if she could love her enough and attended to her enough that somehow she would will her well.
Mattie got out of the chair and walked to the window. The street was dark. No one was moving.
These were the times when she missed Bridget the most. As Mattie looked at the slumbering world outside the window, she was struck that she couldn’t pick up a phone and call her friend Bridget...her sister of the heart.
She loved Lily and Sophie, and she was pretty sure that Bridget had engineered their friendship so that Mattie wouldn’t feel so alone, but it didn’t help. She loved them, but no one would ever replace Bridget.
She walked over to the bed and peered down at the sweet girl. Abbey was still breathing.
Mattie returned to her chair and willed herself to doze at least.
But her mind turned to Finn and his cryptic comments on custody.
No matter what he’d said, he probably felt he had all the ammunition he needed now. Not only had she not shown the appropriate concern about Abbey’s sniffles, which she’d assumed was simply a cold or some similar bug, but she’d left Zoe babysitting Mickey.
Granted, he said it was the right decision. It was for less than a half hour, and it was either trust Zoe or abandon Abbey. But she should have called her mother right away. The moment the school called to say Abbey was sick, she should have asked her mom to come over. Her mom would have noticed that Abbey had not one, but two ear infections.
