Emergency: Parents Needed

by Jessica Matthews

  “Sure,” he said, clicking the television remote to change the broadcast to the sports channel, “but I’ve already been warned to keep them to myself. She’s got that look in her eye, so I will.”

  “What look?” Shep asked.

  “You know. The one where I’ll be enjoying peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sugar-free vanilla wafers the next time she cooks instead of chicken primavera and chocolate caramel turtle bars. My stomach’s not willing to risk it.” He paused for effect. “Is yours?”

  “She’s got her famous primavera on the menu?” Shep asked eagerly.

  Joe had no idea, but he wasn’t above stretching the truth. “We talked about it,” he said.

  “I see your point, Donatelli.” Jimbo nodded thoughtfully. “Nothing is worth gambling away chicken primavera. Your partner drives a hard bargain.”

  Joe laughed. “She does, doesn’t she?”

  His ploy worked because the mouse references faded away and baseball became the topic of conversation. While everyone was deep in the discussion about which team had the most promising players, Joe glanced at Maggie.

  “Thanks,” she mouthed.

  Her smile of gratitude caused the satisfied feeling in his chest to swell until he didn’t have room left for anything else. Funny thing, he’d never seen himself as being a champion of the underdog, defender of the down-trodden. Not that Maggie was down-trodden, but in this situation she was definitely the underdog. And to his surprise, he liked playing the role.

  But being Maggie’s champion was different than being Breanna’s. If he failed Maggie, no harm done. She could handle whatever setbacks came her way. Breanna was different. Oh, one could argue that he shared a unique bond with her—he understood feelings of rejection and abandonment better than most—but the responsibility of caring for a child was enough to give a man nightmares. If he failed her…He didn’t want to think about the consequences.

  If Maggie hadn’t been reflecting on Joe’s kiss in the E.R. as she’d returned to the common room after a quick shower to scrub off Tattoo Hands’ touch as well as the boarding house’s residual smell, she might have been able to hide the evidence of her sore knee. But, no, she’d been too busy replaying those stolen moments to pay attention to what she’d been doing. In fact, they should have discussed their brief lapse of judgment on the way back to the station, but she’d been too grateful to think about something other than her scuffle with the obvious ringleader and what might have been to make an issue of it.

  And so she’d favored her leg as she’d gone into the kitchen and Harry had immediately noticed her limp. Word had spread faster than a cold virus and the barrage had begun before she’d made herself an ice pack.

  Thanks to Joe’s subtle blackmail, the teasing had stopped as abruptly as it had started and her thoughts had quickly returned to those moments of being in Joe’s arms.

  Looking at the situation logically, getting involved with each other wasn’t a good idea. Sure, they could work around the departmental policies, but the timing was all wrong. Would he have been attracted to her or acted on that attraction if he hadn’t needed her help with Breanna?

  It was also entirely possible that he was simply acting out of gratitude. Her relationship with Arthur had begun somewhat similarly and she’d read more into their first kiss than she should have.

  Although she had to admit that Joe’s kisses were beyond compare. His passion, his hunger, his barely held restraint was very different from Arthur’s gentleness and near-hesitation. Joe took the concept of pleasant to a whole new level—one where a toe-curling ache drove good sense right out of her head.

  But if what had happened in that E.R. cubicle hadn’t been enough to surprise her, his defense in the middle of the crew’s harmlessly persistent teasing was. A few short weeks ago he probably would have chimed in, too, but his obvious consideration for her feelings was a clear sign they were becoming an efficient team instead of two individuals who merely worked together.

  Because she found hope in their situation, she was certain there was hope for Breanna’s, too. He needed his little girl to soften his rough edges every bit as much as his daughter needed him, regardless of what his precious DNA test showed.

  If she was being honest with herself, she’d admit that she wanted Joe to need her, too, because she wanted to teach him what love really meant, to convince him that loving someone was a positive, fulfilling experience.

  Unfortunately, for every two steps forward throughout the days that followed, it seemed as if they fell one step behind.

  “You can’t be serious about this,” Maggie protested a week later. They were on their way to pack Dee’s personal effects so that everything would be ready for tomorrow, when the guys from the station would provide the muscle to move out her things. Dee’s lease would end in ten days and the landlord wanted the furnished apartment vacated, so the task Joe had been postponing couldn’t be postponed any longer. However, the chore of packing didn’t bother her—what he intended while they were in the neighborhood did.

  “Why wouldn’t I be serious?” he asked.

  “Why hunt for a man who her closest friend and neighbor only saw a handful of times?”

  “He obviously met Dee after I left. If he can shed some light on what was going on in her life, why she did what she did, then it won’t be a wasted effort,” he told her. “If you don’t want to help, I’ll look for him alone.”

  “I’ll help,” she said reluctantly, “but I’m going on record that I think it’s a mistake. As Dee’s closest friend, Hannah would have known if this guy had been important to her.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. All I want to do is talk to him.”

  Maggie guessed his motives ran deeper than that, but his squared jaw indicated that he was determined to follow the course he’d set. “I can’t convince you to change your mind, can I?”

  He shook his head. “No, so don’t waste your breath.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you how single-minded you are?”

  “Goal-oriented,” he corrected her. “And, yes, I’ve heard that before.”

  And so, resigned to that particular task on their to-do list, Maggie helped Joe sort through Dee’s possessions. They created three piles—one for keepsakes, one for donations to the local thrift store and crisis center, and one for items destined for the dumpster.

  Sorting and packing turned out to be easy. Choosing what Breanna would treasure as she grew older was simply a matter of using her own mother’s keepsakes as a guide. The few pieces of jewelry, a few trinkets and figurines, the obviously hand-made sofa throws were a few of the items she carefully boxed for storage while the rest was segregated for their respective destinations.

  However, what was difficult was watching Breanna crawling from room to room, looking puzzled and occasionally calling “Mama?” as if she expected her mother to appear at any moment.

  Eventually, Breanna crawled onto Dee’s bed, clutched a handful of the green silk ladies’ pajamas lying neatly against the pillows, popped a thumb into her mouth and fell asleep on the patchwork quilt.

  The sight broke Maggie’s heart again. “Whatever you do,” she warned Joe, “keep that nightgown and quilt for her.”

  Gazing at the little girl curled protectively around the fabric, his eyes grew suspiciously vacant and his voice sounded hollow, as if he, too, recognized its importance. “I will,” he promised.

  Later, while Hannah watched over Breanna, Maggie accompanied Joe to the various apartments in Dee’s building, as well as the restaurant where she’d worked.

  Only one person remembered seeing her with the fellow Hannah had described but, like Dee’s neighbor, she didn’t know his name or what he’d had in common with Dee.

  As Joe drove away from the Prairie Pines Apartment complex, he seemed overly quiet.

  “Are you disappointed we didn’t dig up any leads?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He paused. “And no. Yes, because I can’t help wondering if he’s in a be
tter position to take care of Breanna than I am.”

  “If he was, don’t you think Dee would have made him Breanna’s legal guardian?” she said practically. “Give her some credit, will you?”

  “You’re right. I have to trust she knew what she was doing and had method in her madness.”

  “Exactly. Besides, this guy could have been anyone from an insurance salesman to a bill collector.”

  He turned a sheepish face to her. “I never thought of that.”

  “You should,” she declared. “So tell me about the half of you that’s not disappointed we hit a dead end.”

  He exhaled a long sigh as he glanced at the child between them. “The little one is starting to grow on me.”

  She understood precisely what he was talking about, but Breanna wasn’t the only person who’d grown on her. Breanna’s father had, too.

  “That’s the way it works, Joe,” she said quietly. “The more time you spend with an individual, the easier it is to love them.”

  A thoughtful expression crossed his face, but he didn’t say a word and Maggie didn’t belabor the point. She might recognize how maintaining emotional distance was his way to protect himself from loving and losing the people who’d become important to him, but he had to experience his own epiphany.

  Idly, Maggie wondered if Dee had tried to teach Joe that concept but in the end had been forced to settle for friendship. Could it be that Fate was giving her the opportunity to continue the lesson? And if she took up the challenge, would she be more successful than Dee had been or would she, too, have to settle for crumbs?

  As risky as the idea was, as high as the odds were against her, she wanted to try. She wanted to mean more and be more than his safety net. She wanted to prove to him that caring for someone didn’t have to be painful, that loving someone would finally fill those empty spaces inside him.

  She wanted to make him whole because then he just might be willing to consider how good the two of them were together.

  After Joe had put Breanna to bed, he settled in front of the television to watch a rerun of an old favorite on TV. But instead of paying attention to the plot, he pondered Maggie’s comment in the context of his own relationships. He’d never dated the same woman more than a few times because none had ever held his interest for longer than that. If Dee hadn’t become more friend than lover, she would have fallen into that category, too.

  The only real exception to his unconscious habit was Maggie. He couldn’t explain it, but she made him feel as if he could do everything and fail at nothing. She made him wonder what it would be like to create a family with someone who loved him. A month ago he would have labeled the idea impossible and instantly dismissed it, but not now. Now she made him wish for the impossible.

  But as an hour drifted past and Breanna woke up cranky and inconsolable, Joe changed his wish to something more within reach…like getting her to go back to sleep.

  Unfortunately, nothing he tried worked. At 11:00 p.m. he speed-dialed Maggie on his cellphone. “I need you,” he said without preamble.

  “Wh-what?”

  From the tone of her voice she’d obviously been asleep. He might have felt guilty, but desperation overruled.

  “I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s Breanna.”

  Instantly, she sounded alert. “What’s wrong?”

  “She won’t quit crying.”

  “Did you change her? Feed her?”

  He fought the urge to snap. Yelling at Maggie wouldn’t solve his problems. “I did all those things,” he said as patiently as possible, holding an unhappy baby in one arm. “I’ve walked her, sung until I’m hoarse, but nothing I do makes a difference.”

  “What about her temperature? Does she seem sick?”

  “She’s warm, but I think it’s because she’s been crying for so long. Please, Maggie, I’m begging you. Can you come?”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Relieved that help was on the way, he bounced Breanna against his shoulder. “Did you hear that?” he crooned as he paced the floor, “Maggie’s coming. You should feel better now.” He certainly did.

  Unfortunately, Breanna didn’t appear impressed or consoled with his news. She simply rubbed her eyes, screwed up her mouth and, with her lower lip trembling, let loose another wail.

  “Maggie will fix whatever’s wrong,” he murmured. “You’ll see.”

  For the next fifteen minutes he walked a circle through his house, starting with his living room, down the hall to the bedrooms, back around to the kitchen, before finally returning to the living room. When the doorbell rang, he’d never heard a nicer sound.

  “She won’t stop crying,” he told Maggie as she discarded her lightweight windbreaker over a chair.

  “Maybe she’s teething.”

  Why hadn’t he considered that? He should have. Some father he was, he thought in disgust. He moved his hand to her mouth, then reconsidered. “She’ll bite.”

  “If that’s the problem, rubbing will soothe the pain.”

  Joe watched her run an index finger along Breanna’s gum line as the little girl squirmed in his arms. “I can’t feel anything,” she said before she peered into her mouth, “and her gums don’t look red or swollen. Have you noticed her pulling at her ears like they hurt?”

  He shook his head. “No, but before I take her to the emergency room, let’s see if she’ll be happier with you.”

  As he held the little girl toward Maggie, the baby dove into her arms with enthusiasm. While she snuffled softly against Maggie’s neck, the tension in Joe’s shoulders eased. “I should have phoned you sooner,” he said wryly.

  “We’ll see how long this lull lasts.”

  To Joe’s disappointment, Breanna soon tired of Maggie and the scene repeated itself.

  “I’d been hoping we wouldn’t go through this again.” He rubbed at the ridge between his eyebrows. “It’s been nearly a week since we had a night like this. I hate feeling so helpless.”

  “Well, we have to do something,” Maggie declared. “Let’s try a warm bath and a fresh nightgown.”

  Grateful to be doing something, anything, Joe did as instructed, but in the end, as he held her on his lap with her bunny, Breanna still wouldn’t be appeased. She fussed and wiggled until he felt as if holding her was like trying to hold a restless tiger cub.

  Maggie’s eyes suddenly gleamed with an idea. “Joe,” she began, “where’s the quilt and silk nightie we brought back with us today?”

  “Still in the box in the garage with the rest of the things I’m keeping.” As he recalled Breanna’s attachment to the fabric earlier today, he caught on to Maggie’s idea. “Do you think that’s what she wants?”

  “It’s worth a try. I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as she returned and handed the silky garment to Breanna, the change was instantaneous. The little girl sat up, reached out and clutched the material against her before she settled against Joe’s chest, one fist buried in the silk and the other hand clutching her bunny. “Mama,” she mumbled as she closed her eyes and became boneless in Joe’s lap.

  Joe glanced at Maggie, hardly able to believe the sudden transformation. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered.

  “Neither can I. I wish I’d thought of it sooner, the poor baby. It’s probably the one thing that reminds her of her mother.”

  Joe scooted to the edge of the sofa and rose. “I’ll try putting her to bed.”

  “Good idea.”

  Maggie followed him into Breanna’s room and watched him tenderly lay the youngster in her crib, tuck the silk gown against her, then cover her with her comforter. With a soft touch that seemed incongruous with his large hands, he smoothed her hair away from her small face, then moved toward the door. “Are you coming?” he whispered.

  “In a minute. I want to make sure she doesn’t wake up.”

  “OK.”

  Alone, Maggie brushed a kiss on the little girl’s forehead, wishing she could magically take away all th
e pain and hurt and frustration the youngster felt. It was possible, she decided, but the only magical thing that would work was the love and security she and Joe could provide.

  “Sweet dreams,” she murmured, then slipped out and left the door slightly ajar. Searching for Joe, she found him in the kitchen, standing in front of the refrigerator, removing a bottle of beer.

  “Whoever coined the words ‘Silence is golden’ knew what they were talking about,” she said fervently.

  “I’ll say.” He raised the brown bottle into the air. “Want one?”

  “Please.”

  He handed it to her, then got his own.

  “You’ve had quite a night,” she remarked.

  “No kidding.”

  His tone was clipped, his expression halfway between grim and impassive. “Joe?” she asked, carefully. “You do realize you should be happy she’s asleep.”

  “I am.” He took a long swig from his bottle.

  “You don’t seem too happy to me.”

  He headed into the living room and dropped onto the sofa. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. You just seem…upset.”

  “I’m fine. Just go home, Maggie.” He sounded weary as he leaned back against the cushion and closed his eyes, loosely cradling his drink in his hands.

  Something was wrong. She’d expected him to beg her to stay, like he had the first night Breanna had been so distraught. Now he was practically booting her out the door.

  “I will, after I know why you’re acting so strangely.”

  He opened his eyes and met her gaze. “Strange? What makes you say that?”

  She shook her head. “Deny it all you want, but I know you well enough to know you have something on your mind.”

  He took another swallow as if to bide his time, but Maggie refused to budge. “I’ll sit here all night if I have to,” she threatened.

  For several long, painful seconds she waited, until finally he spoke. “It’s my fault she had a rough evening.”