A Family for Easter

by Lee Tobin McClain

  He almost tripped over a large branch but caught himself. Saw a slim white hand.

  And then he was lifting the giant tree branch off the pale, still form of Fiona Farmingham.

  Chapter Ten

  Fiona woke to a jolting, dizzying world with someone holding her impossibly foggy head. Rain, a crash and then awful pain surged in her memory, and she struggled to sit up. “Kids,” she rasped, opening her eyes and trying to focus.

  “They’re fine,” said a woman’s voice. “They’re safe.”

  “Daisy?” She looked up at her friend’s blurry face. Why was Daisy here?

  Where was here?

  “Shh. Lie still.” Daisy glanced at someone off to the side. “Go straight to the emergency room. They’re waiting for us.”

  Emergency room? But Fiona couldn’t go to the emergency room. She had four kids to care for. Again, she tried to sit up, but a sharp pounding pain in her head made her collapse back down, gasping for air.

  There was a screech and jolt, the too-loud bang of a door opening, voices.

  “Lightning—”

  “Tree branch—”

  “Lost consciousness—”

  “Head injury—”

  Somehow, she was lying down flat, zooming along surrounded by people in scrubs. Clenching her teeth against the nausea, she looked around for someone familiar. “My kids...”

  “Your kids are fine,” came Daisy’s soothing voice. “Safe and dry. Your friends are taking care of them.”

  But they needed her. Especially Poppy. She forced herself up onto her elbows, but pain knifed through her forehead and she collapsed back down again.

  More shouts and then the stretcher stopped in a cubicle with beeping machines and too-bright lights and a whole crowd of people.

  Daisy’s face came into view, directly above Fiona’s own. “Do. Not. Worry.” Her reassuring smile didn’t reach her eyes. “You hear? We’re all taking care of your kids and they’re fine. And you’ll be fine, too.” She glanced to the right where a masked doctor was doing something to Fiona’s arm. “Right?”

  “We’ll do everything we can to take care of her. Are you a relative?”

  “Her sister.”

  Fiona blinked at the skill with which Daisy told the lie, but it reassured her, too. Daisy would take care of things. Her kids were okay.

  She started to sink back into fog again. If only they’d stop poking and prodding her.

  Where was Eduardo? She wanted him. But there was some reason—she couldn’t think of it now—why she didn’t get to have him.

  And suddenly, overwhelmingly, she needed to sleep.

  * * *

  Eduardo sat in the ER waiting room, elbows on knees, hands clasped tight. The disinfectant-heavy hospital smell made him queasy, and a heaviness in his chest weighted him down. In his experience, hospital visits didn’t end well.

  Around the waiting room, a few family clusters sat, talking and looking at their phones. A television, sound off, showed talking heads. A low, well-modulated voice sounded from the hospital intercom: “Smythe family? Smythe family to the reception desk, please.” A teenage boy went to the drinking fountain with a uniformed police officer a few feet behind him.

  Everyone here had a story, but Eduardo couldn’t rouse any curiosity about anyone’s but Fiona’s.

  If he hadn’t been having a stupid fight with her, she wouldn’t have gone running off alone to find her kids. They’d have been in good communication, and when that sudden rain came up, they’d have gotten their kids into their respective vehicles and driven home like every other family at the fishing derby.

  He’d have texted her to let her know he had her kids in his truck.

  Why hadn’t he taken the time to text her?

  If he had, they’d be safe and dry inside one of their homes right now.

  Instead, the kids were terrified, back at Fiona’s house with Sam, Susan and Lou Ann. Of course, they didn’t believe the adults’ assurances that everything would be okay. All of them knew, way too young, that things didn’t always turn out okay, no matter what the grown-ups said.

  He should have protected them from this new worry, but he hadn’t.

  To his own surprise, he was including Fiona’s kids in his slate of mishandled responsibilities. Since when had he started thinking of them as his own?

  When you fell in love with Fiona, you idiot.

  That thought stopped him. He wasn’t really in love with Fiona. Was he?

  He blew out a sigh as his heart twisted and turned. Yeah. In that moment when he’d lifted the branch off her lifeless-looking body, he’d realized it for certain: he was in love with her. Which was a disaster for him, personally, and was potentially a disaster for her.

  The double doors to the back of the ER opened and Daisy came out. Instantly, he was on his feet and walking toward her, his heart pounding, trying to read her expression. “How is she?”

  “She’d be better if you hadn’t made her feel bad about herself yesterday,” Daisy snapped. She sank into a chair.

  Yesterday. Yesterday had started with a wonderful time decorating the cafeteria at the Senior Towers, and then there’d been that unwise but very delightful kiss. But next had come the kids and the guilt and the memory that he shouldn’t be starting up a relationship with her at all. He’d been trying to ease her away from him, disentangle them so she wouldn’t be hurt.

  Not knowing what else to do, he sat down beside Daisy.

  She glared at him. “If you hadn’t been fighting, Susan and I wouldn’t have had her holed up in the back of the concession stand with the window shut. This would never have happened!”

  Guilt washed over him, a crashing wave. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t already told himself, but hearing it from Daisy—

  He let his head sink into his hands. Familiar remorse pressed him down. He should never have moved into the carriage house, should have known that something would go wrong. The bleakness was an echo and a reminder of how he’d failed Elizabeth.

  He turned his head sideways to face Daisy. “I know. I take responsibility. But is she going to be okay?”

  She bit her lip, gripped his arm, shook it. “I’m sorry, Eduardo. Cancel everything I just said.”

  “No, you’re right. If I’d only let her know I had her kids—”

  “It’s not your fault. I should never have said that,” Daisy interrupted. “Or if it is, I’m just as much to blame. I’m feeling guilty because I kept her inside the concession stand instead of paying attention to how that storm was kicking up.”

  “You were trying to help.”

  “Sure, I was. But it was about me, too, because I wanted to talk about female self-esteem and I was having trouble with Dion, and...” Her voice started to crack. “And she has those four kids, those poor kids...”

  “Wait.” Eduardo’s heart beat much too fast and he knelt in front of her. “Daisy. Is she going to be okay? What do the doctors say?”

  “I don’t know,” she choked out. “They’re acting weird. Or I think they are. I don’t know.” She paused. “They’re asking her all kinds of questions about stuff like dates and math problems and current events. They’re testing her reflexes. And they said they want her to have...” Her voice broke and she took a deep breath. “A CT scan. They want to do a CT scan.”

  That didn’t sound good.

  He grabbed a tissue box from an end table and handed it to Daisy. “Do you think they’ll let me in? I saw what happened. Maybe there’s information I could give...”

  Daisy wiped her eyes and shook her head. “I said I was her sister, but it’s only a matter of time until they find out I’m not even a relative. I guess we should call her mom, but that’ll be more of a problem than a help, from what I understand of their relationship, so I’m holding off. But I know they’ll ask for next of ki
n...”

  Eduardo’s heart was a giant heavy stone.

  “Attention,” said the intercom. “Would the party accompanying patient Fiona Farmingham please come to the desk?”

  Daisy stood and hurried toward the reception desk. Eduardo followed her.

  “You’re Fiona’s sister?” asked a doctor in scrubs, standing behind the receptionist.

  Daisy hesitated fractionally and then nodded. Eduardo stepped off to the side, hoping the doctor would talk openly if he didn’t appear to be eavesdropping.

  It worked. “Looks like she dodged a bullet,” the doctor said cheerfully. “Of course, we’ll do a few more tests. CT scan as a precaution. But it looks like a very mild concussion. She has a few contusions, but we were able to patch her up. It could have been much worse.”

  “Can she go home tonight?”

  The doctor frowned. “What’s the home situation?”

  “She has four kids.”

  “Then definitely not. She needs as much rest as possible, not a bunch of kids hanging on her. Besides, we need to do those tests. But she should be good for tomorrow.” The doctor turned and hurried back into the ER.

  “Thank you!” Daisy called after the doctor, sounding jubilant.

  “You can go back and see her now,” the receptionist said. “Just push the button to the right of the doors.”

  Daisy went over and pressed the button. The doors opened.

  She looked back at him. “Come on,” she said. “You can say you’re my husband.”

  Reflected in the metallic doorway, he could see the flashing lights of an ambulance. Medics jogged in beside a stretcher holding a small dark-haired woman.

  The beeps of medical machinery shrilled over the low hum of voices, artificially calm doctors and nurses.

  Behind him, in the waiting room, a child began to cry.

  A roaring started in his head. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.

  That crying child sounded just like Sofia had sounded all those years ago, crying for the mommy who would never return.

  What had he been doing, getting involved with Fiona and her family? Why would he risk replicating that kind of misery? What had possessed him, thinking he’d changed?

  He’d come to care for Fiona and her kids way too much. Which was exactly why he needed to stay out of their lives.

  He stepped back from Daisy’s beckoning arm. “It’s okay. Uh, you’ll take care of her. Right?”

  Daisy cocked her head to one side and looked at him hard. “Right, of course. I’m her friend.”

  “That...that’s great. You let me know if you need anything. Right now, I’m... I have to go. Go home.”

  He turned and practically ran out of the hospital.

  * * *

  Three days later, Fiona pushed herself up to a sitting position and readjusted her pillows behind her back. She was in her own sunny front room, waiting for the kids to come home from school, while Lou Ann Miller prepared dinner in the kitchen. The nanny, temporarily rehired, was playing with Poppy upstairs.

  She looked out the window, relieved that the light didn’t hurt her eyes today. The tests had all come back clear, and her slight dizziness had subsided. A faint lingering headache and some blue-green bruises up one arm were the only reminders of the fright she’d had last weekend. If she got lots of extra rest this week, and resumed her normal life slowly, she’d be fine, according to the doctors.

  She was still a little hazy on the details of the accident. She remembered running out into the storm, not seeing her kids, thinking there was movement down by the water. Poppy had been so fascinated with Mercedes’s story about hiding under the boat, and Fiona had feared that Poppy, or all her kids, were playing there or hiding from the lightning. Exactly the most unsafe thing to do.

  She remembered looking around frantically, seeing the rowboat and then...just a big blank.

  Sometimes, she got a mental glimmer of strong arms lifting her up and carrying her through the rain. It must have been Eduardo. She knew he’d driven her to the hospital while Daisy had held her steady in the back seat. Sam and Susan had taken all the kids home, got them dry clothes and food and reassurance. Other than Poppy being a little more clingy than usual, there were no ill effects.

  Every time she thought about the near disaster, she closed her eyes and sent up a prayer of thanks and gratitude for the help of her friends.

  The only thing missing now was Eduardo.

  The school bus chugged up and her older three ran inside. She could hear the thuds and clinks of supplies as they threw down their backpacks and lunchboxes and then all three burst into the front room, Lauren importantly hushing everyone else.

  Fiona hugged each one of them fiercely and made them sit around her and tell her about their school days. Maya had a drawing that had gotten two gold stars, Ryan had aced his spelling test and Lauren’s oral report had gone “okay, better than Tiffany Winthrop’s.” Fiona listened and breathed in the sweaty smell of her kids, and again her heart expanded with thanks.

  So easily, things could have gone a different way. She could have gotten a much worse concussion. Even been killed. The doctors had impressed on her the dangers of being outside in a lightning storm, and Fiona took it all seriously. More than ever, she felt grateful for each moment with her children and was determined to give them everything she had to help them grow up strong.

  She wanted to get up and fix them a snack right now, as she usually did, but Lou Ann called out for them to come to the table. One mention of fresh-made brownies and Ryan and Maya ran toward the kitchen. Lauren stayed behind, leaning against Fiona.

  Fiona held her hand as the others raced away, smiled at her eldest and brushed her hair back from her forehead. There were two vertical wrinkles between Lauren’s eyebrows, a sure sign that something was wrong. “Come sit on the porch with me after you have your snack, if you want to.”

  Lauren glanced toward the kitchen, from which a rich chocolaty smell was wafting.

  “Go ahead. Eat your snack and I’ll meet you on the porch.”

  Lauren leaned down and gave Fiona a gentle hug. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Moments later, they were on the porch in the sun, both sipping iced tea, Lauren’s watered-down with a significant amount of lemonade.

  “Mom,” she asked, “how come Mr. Delgado hasn’t been over to visit like all your other friends?”

  Fiona looked involuntarily in the direction of the carriage house. That was the million-dollar question, but she couldn’t say that to her daughter. “I’m sure they’ve had a lot to do,” she said. “And remember, Mr. Delgado has a landscaping business. Spring is his busiest season.”

  “Sofia says he’s moody.” Lauren looked rather impressed with her ten-year-old friend’s observation. “She says he stares off into the distance. And he keeps looking at pictures of their mom, who died.”

  Fiona’s heart was open and emotional and the idea of Eduardo, sad and suffering, pained her. But she’d sent him a note thanking him for rescuing her and for helping with the kids, along with Sofia’s stain-free shirt. The ball was in his court now, but apparently he wasn’t going to hit it.

  “Sometimes grown-ups go through hard times, just like kids do,” she said, feeling her way. “He could be feeling extra sad about losing his wife. Just like you sometimes get sad about Daddy, right around Christmas or your birthday.”

  “Yeah, because he used to get me lots of presents and call me his little lady.” Lauren looked wistful.

  “He loved you very much.” Lauren, more than the others, had memories of Reggie. Sometimes Fiona speculated that Reggie hadn’t yet started up his other family when Lauren was small, so he’d been more attached to her.

  A car pulled up in front of the house and a petite dark-haired woman emerged. Fiona waved a greeting and started to stand, but the woman was looking past the hous
e, where Eduardo soon appeared. He walked to meet the woman and they embraced.

  Then they walked back toward the carriage house, arms around each other. Neither one glanced in the direction of the porch.

  Lauren looked over at Fiona. “Does Mr. Delgado have a new girlfriend?” she asked.

  Fiona’s own automatic thought as well. She took a couple of deep breaths and thought about Eduardo, the man she knew him to be. Thought about how he’d expressed feelings for her and kissed her not even a week ago. “I don’t think so, honey,” she said. “That might be a relative.”

  And tried to hold on to her reasoning in the face of some very nasty jealousy.

  “Oh, good,” Lauren said matter-of-factly, “because we want you and Mr. Delgado to get married.”

  Fiona sighed, reached out and stroked Lauren’s hair. “That’s not going to happen, I’m pretty sure,” she said softly.

  “But you kissed him—”

  “I know. We like each other. But when you’re a grown-up with jobs and kids and...and hard things that happened in the past, it’s complicated to go on dates and to, well, be together.” She chose her next words carefully, wanting to reassure Lauren and avoid making her feel somehow responsible or guilty. “I can only take care of so much. You and your sisters and brother fill up my world. You’re my priority, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do you understand?”

  Lauren frowned. “That lady is really small and skinny. Do you think he likes her because she is littler than you?”

  Fiona’s breath caught as her daughter articulated the ugly notion that had stabbed at her the moment she’d seen Eduardo put his arm around the dark-haired woman. “What makes you think that, honey?”

  “I know you go on diets, and in pictures, you hunch down to be smaller. So I thought...” She trailed off, looking at the floorboards of the porch.

  Fiona lifted her eyes to the ceiling and tried to channel Daisy and Susan. “Sometimes, in magazines and on TV, women and girls look skinny and small. But that’s not real life, is it? We come in all sizes.”

  Amazing how calm she was able to sound, as if she had complete confidence in these ideas that she was only now starting to internalize.