Promises to Keep

by Susan Crandall

  God, no wonder she was exhausted.

  Chapter 9

  The next morning, Molly started looking for a sitter for her work hours. The task was complicated because she needed both weekdays and weekends. In her new job at Henderson County ER, she was to rotate four days on and five days off in twelve-hour shifts.

  The odd hours, plus the fact that she’d basically been estranged from everyone in this town except her family for the past ten years, made the quest difficult. She didn’t know anyone well enough to assess whether or not they would meet her high standards. She didn’t think she was being extreme in her requirements—Nicholas was a newborn, after all. She didn’t want him in an environment with one caregiver and six or seven small children. In addition, there were extenuating circumstances, making her need someone who would be watchful, cautious by nature. Especially since Molly couldn’t explain why vigilance was needed.

  Lily was the most obvious person to point her in the right direction, but Molly was determined to take this step on her own, partially because she’d have to begin her next conversation with her sister with an apology and she wasn’t in the mood to cross that bridge at the moment. Maybe after she found a potential candidate, she’d run it past her sister. Then she would feel like she was in the driver’s seat, at least.

  On Saturday afternoon she went to check out and interview the three places that had placed ads in the paper, two individual homes and one “professional” day care center. None of which she’d consider hiring. The day care center was closed on Saturday and Sunday and the houses were . . . well, substandard for a variety of reasons. One woman was taking care of three infants and two toddlers while her husband slept in the back bedroom because he worked nights. The other house was so dirty that Molly had actually considered calling the health department after she left.

  As she put Nicholas in his car seat after the last interview, she felt defeated and frustrated. She had no idea finding a caretaker would be so difficult. As a pediatrician she’d often listed criteria new parents should use to choose childcare, but she hadn’t had a clue how difficult those criteria were to fill. She decided to take a break for a piece of pie at the Dew Drop. Maybe Mildred would have some suggestions; she’d lived here all her life and knew almost everybody.

  Since the courthouse was closed on Saturday, there was plenty of parking around the square at two-thirty in the afternoon. Molly parked right in front of the café. Once inside, she and Nicholas took a booth near the back, where she could watch people more easily without having people watch her.

  Mildred came over to take her order. “How’s that little darlin’?” She leaned over the baby and cooed a couple of times.

  She’d obviously gotten over her shock that Molly’s child didn’t come with a husband.

  “He’s great,” Molly said. “We’ve been looking for a babysitter. I’m going to work at the hospital in a couple of weeks. This process is very frustrating.”

  Mildred nodded slowly in commiseration. “I understand that can be a real problem. What with every other week there’s a day care center or a church that has horrible things come out in the news. Child molesters—and in small towns like ours! I just don’t know what’s gotten into people these days.”

  Molly inwardly cringed. Then she said, “That’s why I came here, for your advice—well, that and a slice of your famous cherry pie.” Molly pointed to the pie case and smiled. “Since you know everyone, I thought maybe you could make some suggestions.”

  Mildred shoved her hands on her hips. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so far out of the baby business, I couldn’t begin to really know who to say. My niece, Denise, her kids are in junior high now, but she might know somebody. I’ll ask her tomorrow at church.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” So much for bright and promising leads from Mildred.

  “You want coffee with your pie?”

  “Decaf, please.” Molly rested her elbow on the table, then set her chin in her hand. She huffed out a little puff of frustration. Where was she going to look next?

  Mildred served her pie. “I gave you an extra large slice; you look like you could use the pick-me-up.”

  Molly’s eyes widened. She must really look dejected; Mildred had given her what had to be a quarter of a pie. “Wow.”

  Mildred patted Molly’s shoulder before she walked away. “You take your time and enjoy that now. It’ll all work out, you’ll see.”

  Smiling her thanks, Molly picked up her fork. She had her head down, focused solely on the pie when she heard a man speak.

  “You’re going at that pie like you’re afraid Mildred’s going to come back and repossess it.”

  Molly raised her eyes. Brian Mitchell was standing next to her table.

  She ducked her head and swallowed the huge bite she’d just shoved in her mouth. Then she said, sheepishly, “Comfort food.” Then she held onto the rim of her plate. “How do I know you’re not here to take it away? You’ve got a lustful look in your eye, looking at my pie there.”

  Brian laughed. “Can’t deny my guilt. But I know better than to take food from an exhausted-looking woman. I’ll order my own.” He raised a hand to Mildred, who was behind the counter. “Pie and coffee, please.” Then he asked Molly, “Mind if I join you two?”

  Gesturing toward the seat opposite hers, she said, “Of course not. I was just about to offer—once I was sure you’re not after my pie.”

  Brian slid in the booth. Mildred was right there with his pie.

  “Hey, her piece is bigger than mine!” he said, playfully.

  Mildred put one hand on her hip and pointed to Nicholas. “I tell you what, you give birth to one of those and I’ll give you a whole pie.”

  Screwing up his mouth, Brian appeared to consider. “In that case, my pie is just right.”

  “I thought so.” Mildred went back to the counter.

  Brian said to Molly, “So, you two out shopping this afternoon?” He then reached across the booth and touched Nicholas softly on the cheek.

  She sighed and said, “Shopping for day care.”

  “I heard you got a job in the ER.”

  “Wow. News travels even faster in this town than I remember.”

  Brian winked. “Cell phones.” He dug into his pie.

  Molly tried to eat hers at a more civilized pace.

  Between mouthfuls, Brian said, “Have you tried the Methodist or the Lutheran churches? I think they both have some sort of day care, or Mommy’s Day Out, or something.”

  Shaking her head, Molly said. “No. I’ll check. My problem’s going to be that I need someone for Saturdays and Sundays on some weeks. ER has a weird rotation.”

  “Hmm.”

  They ate for a minute in silence.

  Suddenly, Brian said, “I’ve got it!”

  “Got what?”

  “The solution.”

  “What is it?”

  He leaned over the table slightly. He was clearly excited about his answer. “Remember I told you that Ed Grissom died?”

  Molly nodded, not sure she liked where this was going.

  “Hattie is really lost. She’d be a great sitter. And, as the woman has no life, there shouldn’t be any conflicts. It would be good for both of you.”

  Molly tilted her head and squinted slightly. “Isn’t she . . . a little nuts?”

  Brian shook his head. “Not at all—Ed might have been, though. Hattie’s just . . . withdrawn. This could be just the thing to bring her out, let her enjoy life. Besides, she’s good with babies. She’s worked in the infant nursery at her church forever.”

  Molly clucked her tongue. “I don’t know.”

  “What have you got to lose by talking to her?”

  “I don’t think I want Nicholas out there on the farm. If I needed to get to him it would take twenty minutes.”

  “Have Hattie stay at your house. That’ll get her out of that closed up box she lives in and you won’t have to cart Nicholas and all of his stuff out every morning.
”

  Molly didn’t know which took her more by surprise, that he was actually serious about Hattie, or that he was aware of all the junk a person had to haul around for a baby. Then she said, “I can’t just show up on her doorstep and ask her. She doesn’t even know me. And how will she take it if I decide she’s not the right one? She’s already ‘withdrawn.’” Even as she said it, she realized how much of a good thing that could be in this particular case. Hattie was cautious, shy, not about to open the door to a stranger.

  What am I thinking?

  Nicholas woke up and started to fuss.

  Molly lifted him out of his pumpkin seat. “Shhhh. You’re all right.”

  Brian held out his hands. “Let me take him while you finish your pie.”

  She glanced at her half-eaten pie. His plate was empty except for a scattering of crust crumbs. “You’re asking for it. If he gets wound up, just watch that glass pie case shatter.”

  Brian took the baby and Nicholas quieted immediately.

  “Well, I’ll be calling you at two A.M.,” Molly said jokingly.

  Brian smiled at the little boy in his arms. “Any time. I think he likes me.”

  “He’s probably pooping.”

  Brian laughed as he bounced the baby. Then he said, “Seriously, how about I bring Hattie by your place on Monday? That’s the day someone brings her into town to shop. You can meet her without her knowing that you’re sizing her up. If you don’t want to pursue it, no harm done.”

  “If she has to be brought in to do her shopping, how is she going to get to my house to babysit?”

  Brian waved the concern away. “One step at a time. First meet her. Something can be worked out.”

  Molly didn’t like the idea of a creepy old lady watching Nicholas, but she was getting desperate. And Brian did seem to know the woman pretty well. “All right, bring her by.”

  After they both paid for their pie, she asked him if he would mind watching Nicholas while she went to the ladies’ room. Brian had been holding the baby for several minutes already.

  “Of course I don’t mind,” he said. “I’ll tell him some dirty jokes while you’re away.”

  Molly rolled her eyes and headed for the restroom.

  When she came back out, Brian was gone. In his place at their booth sat a frightened-looking Dean Coletta holding Nicholas under both arms as if he was looking to hand him off to the next person who walked by the table.

  The baby started to wail.

  True terror showed on Dean’s face.

  Molly remained standing in the hallway to the restrooms suppressing a chuckle as she watched Dean’s frantic eyes searching for Mildred.

  Dean set Nicholas on the table edge and jostled him. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. Mommy’ll be right back.”

  Even though she was enjoying the scene, Molly took pity. She stepped into the dining room.

  “What’s all this?” she said. “Where’s Brian?”

  Dean thrust the baby at her. “His beeper went off right as I walked in. He had to go on a volunteer fire run.”

  Molly took Nicholas and put him on her shoulder. His cries died out to whimpers. “Now that’s a question I hadn’t thought to ask a babysitter.”

  Dean immediately said, “Oh, he wouldn’t have just left the baby.”

  Molly shook her hand and chuckled. “That’s not exactly what I meant.” She sat in the booth and put Nicholas in his seat. “Thank you for watching him.”

  Dean shrugged, looking nearly as uncomfortable as he had while still holding the baby. Then he picked up a menu. He didn’t open it, just sat tapping it on the table.

  She started to get Nicholas ready to leave.

  “Can you stay to have a cup of coffee with me?” he asked out of the blue.

  She was ready to say she had to get going; Nicholas was getting fussy and needed to be fed. But then she looked into Dean’s eyes. They looked—hopeful. She felt guilty for the laugh she’d just had at his expense.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll have Mildred heat up a bottle.” She dug one out of the diaper bag and walked over to the counter. After she asked Mildred to warm it, she asked, “Do you have any more of that cherry pie?”

  “Sure do.” Mildred raised a brow. “You want more?”

  Molly laughed. “I would if I could find a place to put it! I’m buying for Dean.” She thumbed over her shoulder.

  Mildred looked around her. “I see.”

  Molly looked from under her brows. “I’m just trying to make the man feel welcome in our town so he writes a nice story about us.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mildred turned around to get the pie and Nicholas let loose a bellow before Molly could voice any more denials.

  “What do I do?” Dean called across the dining room. “He’s crying.”

  Nothing like stating the obvious. But, Molly thought, there was a desperate quality to the man’s voice that was just a little endearing coming from such a globally seasoned character.

  Molly went back and picked the baby up. She couldn’t believe a man who’d spent most of his adult life dodging bullets could be so rattled by one little baby. “Just keep in mind,” she said teasingly, “you’re bigger than he is. Plus, you can run away and he can’t come after you.”

  Dean looked embarrassed. “I’ve just never been around babies.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make fun. It’s just here you are with the worldly reputation, having survived war zones and irate editors, and eight pounds of baby has you scared to death.”

  Now he looked indignant; her tactic to get him back in a place of comfort seemed to be working.

  He said, “I wasn’t scared. I didn’t want to do the wrong thing. I’ve heard how picky mothers of firstborns are.”

  “Right you are.”

  Mildred brought a tray with the baby’s bottle, a cup of coffee, and a slice of pie. She handed the bottle to Molly, then set the coffee and cherry pie in front of Dean.

  “Sorry, ma’am, but I didn’t order pie.”

  Mildred tilted her head toward Molly and said, as suggestively as any bartender in a swinging singles spot, “A gift from the lady.” Then she gave a salacious wink and walked away.

  Molly busied herself with situating the baby for his bottle. She didn’t make eye contact when she said, “Just eat it, you’ll thank me.”

  Once Dean took a bite, Molly couldn’t tell whose face showed more bliss, his or Nicholas’s.

  “Oh my God. I didn’t know pie could be this good.”

  Molly chuckled. “See what you’ve missed in all of your world travels by limiting yourself to strife-filled countries?”

  He grinned and Molly took it like a shot in the heart. The man was one mass of charisma.

  Then he said, “This could turn out to be the best story I’ve ever written, considering my good fortune in these first days.”

  Molly didn’t respond with more than a slight smile. He was flirting again, and she couldn’t deny she liked it—even though he probably flirted as unconsciously as he breathed.

  Dean took a break in his pie shoveling, and leaned against the back of the booth. “Tell me a little about your life in Boston.”

  Molly put Nicholas on her shoulder to burp him. As she patted his back, she said, “Are you asking as a journalist?”

  Dean rolled his lips inward for a second, as if this had been a difficult question. “I’m not sure yet.”

  More flirting.

  Nicholas gave a burp befitting a linebacker and Dean tipped his head in commendation. “My.”

  Molly said, “Yes, a talent any mother would be proud of. I can’t wait until he’s sixteen and realizes his full potential.” She gave Nicholas his bottle again.

  “Back to Boston,” Dean prompted with a smile.

  “Yes, Boston. I went to Boston University for both undergrad and med school. After graduation I worked in the ER at Boston General. That’s pretty much it. You know med school—doesn’t leave much time for anything else.”

/>   Dean raised a brow and nodded toward the baby. “Apparently you found time for a little something else.”

  For the briefest second Molly fought panic. Then she took a breath and said flippantly, “That can be done on a fifteen-minute coffee break.”

  He looked at her seriously for a second. “Is that how it was?”

  “I really don’t know what business that is of yours—or your magazine’s.”

  He raised his palms. “Sorry.” After a second, he looked in her eyes and said, “I wasn’t asking for the magazine, FYI.”

  Molly decided to let that topic die right there.

  Dean cursed himself for pushing too hard. He had better finesse than that. So he took a step backward in the conversation. “What made you decide to work in emergency? Was that your specialty?”

  With a weak smile at the baby in her arms, Molly said, “No. My specialty is pediatrics. I just wasn’t ready to set up a practice yet. Maybe it was because deep down I really didn’t know where I wanted to settle for the long haul.” For a moment, she seemed deep in thought. Then she gave her head a slight shake and said, “Plus, the hours at the ER allowed me to volunteer at a free clinic.”

  “Really! A free clinic?” He slid the pie plate away and leaned his elbows on the table. “What brought you to that? Did you like it?”

  Molly thought for a minute before answering. “The children,” she said with certainty. “It was the children. I thought my pediatric expertise could be of value there. Working in the ER I saw so many sick kids that shouldn’t have been, and who’d often waited far too long to seek help. Aside from the injuries, most of the illnesses the kids came to the ER with could have been prevented with even a minimum of care. I guess you could say it was frustration—I wanted to get at these problems before they were full-blown disasters.

  “As far as liking it . . . it was my life. If I’d been able to afford it, I would have given more time there.” Sadness shone in her eyes when she added, “But the clinic was closed down—lack of funding.” She hugged the baby tighter and kissed his forehead. “Then Nicholas came along, and everything changed.” She lowered her lashes, hiding her eyes from him, and visibly shivered.