Bursting into the bathroom, she used the facilities quickly. While washing her hands, she reached for a towel and knocked over a couple of the prescription bottles cramming the counter. Why so many? she wondered as she straightened them. And although Caleb seemed to respect his grandparents’ order to stay out of here, surely medications like these should be kept in a locked cabinet.
The names of the medications jumped into focus. ACE inhibitors. Beta blockers. Diuretics...
Now she understood what was ailing Bennie. And why any halfway measures for Caleb’s care would be at most a stopgap.
* * *
VISITING THE CARRIGANS’ mansion brought back Nick’s childhood sense of inadequacy. His grandparents’ spacious home, as well as his aunt and uncle’s, had stood in stark contrast to the series of low-rent apartments in which he and his parents—and later his single mom—had lived.
This grand room and its magnificent antiques dwarfed the efficiency unit he presently occupied. And despite their frailties, the elder Carrigans exuded the confidence of wealth and success. Most of all, they loved Caleb and offered him stability. How could Nick remove his son from them?
Yet, clearly, keeping up with a three-year-old and a large house was straining their capabilities. Regardless of his worries about day care, finances and Caleb’s emotional state, he couldn’t allow matters to continue on their current course.
As usual, Elaine seized control of the conversation before he could. “We won’t let you take our little boy away. He’s all we have.” She lowered herself stiffly onto a formal sofa like a queen assuming her throne. “We’ve suffered a few health setbacks, and our housekeeper quit right after the holidays. But we’ll soon have matters under control. In the meantime, Caleb is flourishing. You can see that for yourself.”
The boy did look healthy and cheerful. Nick kept track of his progress in preschool and reviewed reports from his medical checkups, so he had no reason to believe Caleb suffered from neglect. But if the housekeeper had simply quit, why hadn’t they hired an interim cleaning service?
Nick took a diplomatic approach. “You mentioned health problems. As a physician, I believe you should concentrate on regaining your health and reducing unnecessary stress.”
“Our grandson is not ‘unnecessary stress’!” The older woman’s anger flared. She possessed the same temperamental fire as her daughter had. Unfortunately, Bethany had lacked her mother’s sense of duty. Growing up without boundaries had translated into reckless behavior that had led to her death.
Over her parents’ objections, Bethany had spent the Fourth of July weekend with heavy-drinking friends at a lakeside cabin. She’d planned to take Caleb along until Elaine informed Nick of the plan. They’d joined forces, threatening to report her for child endangerment.
After angrily accusing them of trying to control her, she’d gone without her son. Boating and alcohol had proved a deadly combination when one of the men sped around the lake, lost control of the motorboat and smashed into a larger vessel. There’d been injuries on both boats, and Bethany had been thrown overboard. Authorities had found her body later with a major head injury and indications that she had drowned. The tragedy had devastated her family.
But in the aftermath, Elaine and Bennie had played a vital role in providing a stable home for his son. “I’m grateful that you’ve been here for Caleb,” Nick said. “You’re right—he is flourishing. But he’s growing fast, and you aren’t getting any younger.”
“We’re hardly at death’s door,” Elaine snapped. Bennie, who’d sunk onto his chair, winced at her tone. “I’m only sixty-four and Bennie’s sixty-three. That’s young!”
Younger than Nick had realized—not quite old enough for Medicare, which meant they must be fielding heavy medical bills. While he contributed child support, Nick presumed his money went for food, clothes, utilities and the boy’s doctor visits. He didn’t send enough to underwrite the expenses of such a large household, nor could he afford to.
Above them, the floor shifted in Caleb’s bedroom. Nick appreciated Zady’s willingness to entertain his son. She’d been a good sport about everything he’d dropped on her today.
Deep breath. Hold on to your patience and proceed to the point. “I’m not proposing to yank Caleb out of here today,” Nick said. “But I’d like your help in transitioning him to my home.”
Bennie drooped but didn’t argue. His wife, however, went into full fighting mode.
“Your home?” Elaine repeated. “You live in a residential motel, don’t you?”
“I’ve been researching apartments,” he said. And I’ll do that in earnest now.
She gestured around the room. “You’d drag a little boy from this beautiful house and cram him into an apartment?”
“Lots of children grow up just fine in apartments.” Including me. Well, he’d not always been fine, Nick amended silently.
“You’re a playboy bachelor who works nights.” Elaine must have stewed over this topic beforehand, assembling her arguments. “On advice of our attorney, we didn’t fight you for custody when Bethany died, but if you try to take Caleb, we’ll fight and we’ll win!”
“Elaine!” A fierce note in Bennie’s voice halted her flow of words. “You know we’ve been discussing moving into assisted living.”
She glared as if her husband had committed an act of treason. Reassured that Bennie agreed with him, Nick hastened to defuse the situation.
“You should preserve your savings, not waste them on lawyers.” A custody battle would be a drain on his resources and theirs. “Of course, I’ll rely on your advice and continuing involvement with Caleb.”
“Any chance of your renting a house?” Bennie inquired. Nick appreciated the suggestion, which might counter Elaine’s argument on that score.
While a house would cost extra, it should provide a more comfortable environment. Nick had been sending larger-than-required monthly payments to retire his student loans faster. If he cut those payments to the minimum, he could free up money for rent.
“No reason why not,” he said. “Safe Harbor’s a family community with plenty of residential areas.”
“But what about your schedule? You can’t just farm the boy out to sitters,” Elaine grumbled, switching tactics. “What will you do, hire a teenager to sleep over, or park Caleb at a stranger’s home every night?”
If only Nick still worked days...but he’d signed a year-long contract. Moreover, he’d committed to his patients and to relieving the other doctors, and the extra money would be more necessary than ever if he rented a house.
However, Caleb was top priority. “I’m willing to investigate what it would take to transfer to a position with better hours.”
“Even if you succeed, obstetricians always have to be available on weekends and evenings,” Elaine parried. “You said so yourself after Bethany died. How will you find a sitter at a moment’s notice? What about the impact on Caleb?”
“Other doctors manage.” Nick flashed on a conversation with Adrienne Cavill-Hunter, who’d held the overnight shift before him while raising her small nephew, now her adopted son. She’d spoken highly of a licensed sitter who had looked after Reggie while she worked nights. “I have a colleague who’s recommended a licensed home.”
“A licensed home!” Elaine scoffed. “He deserves his own home.”
Despite his frustration, Nick kept a firm hold on his temper. “We’d all prefer perfect circumstances, but we don’t have that option.”
“What about your friend?” Bennie asked unexpectedly. “She’s a nurse and your neighbor, right?”
“At the motel,” his wife said acidly. “What’s the point of renting a house and then dumping him in a trashy place like that every night?”
“It isn’t trashy.” Nick doubted his statement would carry much weight, nor would a tour of the p
lace impress her. “But as Bennie points out, we’ve only begun to explore possibilities.”
Elaine’s hands tightened, but instead of forming fists, she jerked from the pain. Nick felt a twist of sympathy. She must be suffering daily while she prepared meals for Caleb, assisted her husband and struggled to keep this big house in shape.
In any event, she had to yield to reality. And perhaps she was weakening—they’d progressed from threats of a court battle to hashing out details. For Elaine’s sake, as well as everyone else’s, Nick decided to seal the deal while he could. “I’ll tell you what. Let me see about renting a house and finding suitable overnight care. If I do that, will you—”
His proposal was cut off by the scamper of little feet in the hall, followed by Zady’s steps.
“Look what I learned!” the boy cried as he ran in, his face alight. “Come on, Auntie Zee!”
“Auntie Zee?” Elaine’s forehead furrowed.
“That’s what my goddaughter calls me,” Zady explained apologetically. “I’m sorry. He got bored upstairs.”
“That’s all right,” Nick said.
Eager to show off his new game, Caleb began to sing, “‘You put your right foot in...ʼ”
“‘You put your right foot out.ʼ” Singing along, Zady took his hand and joined in demonstrating the hokeypokey.
Bennie started singing, too, and Elaine cracked a smile. “Whee!” Waving his hands in the air, Caleb twirled around beside Zady.
Caleb and Zady might as well both be kids, Nick reflected. Then inspiration struck.
He had a potential solution to their problems. Now he just had to sell it to the Carrigans...and Zady.
Chapter Seven
“I’ll grant you this,” Zady said as they cruised along the freeway, Nick keeping the car a shade below the posted speed limit of sixty-five so he could prolong the conversation. “It isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”
Her ironic tone didn’t bode well. “But?” he prompted.
“It’s right up there near the top.” Her mouth twisted and, although he didn’t tear his gaze from traffic, Nick was sure she’d rolled her eyes, too.
“Maybe I didn’t explain well enough.” He considered the advantages to be obvious. However, experience had taught him that what one person said and what the other person heard weren’t always the same.
She thunked the back of her head against the seat rest, which he gathered was the equivalent of banging one’s head on the wall. “Allow me to sum up. You rent house. I move into house. I become house slave.”
“You mean like the elf in Harry Potter?” he asked to lighten the tone. “You are much cuter than Dobby.”
“How reassuring.”
Shifting into a slower lane to avoid ticking off the driver of the truck behind them, he imagined his very feminine companion living with him in his house. In his kitchen, on his couch, in his shower...
Nick yanked his thoughts away from dangerous territory. Focus on strategy. Should he use guilt or practicality?
Zady had done him a major favor today and it would be wrong to push her too hard. After the demonstration of the hokeypokey, she’d accompanied Caleb outside for another quarter of an hour at his request. During that precious interval, he’d presented his proposition to the Carrigans: If he rented a house and arranged for suitable overnight supervision—possibly Zady—would they cooperate with him on transitioning Caleb into Nick’s home?
Bennie had agreed at once. Although Elaine had been sullen, she’d eventually yielded, as well.
He decided to use logic. “Consider the financial aspect,” he said in a reasonable tone. “You can’t afford an apartment unless you share with other people. Instead, you’ll have a room rent-free in a house with a...” With a what? What were the advantages of living in a house? He had no idea. “A private yard and a garage.” That sounded right.
“How could any woman resist?”
“I’ll throw in utilities and food.” Nick would add a stipend if finances allowed, but he couldn’t promise that. “I’ll mostly be away when you and Caleb are both sleeping, and that’s only four nights a week.”
“Plus four evenings, bedtimes and breakfasts.” The late-afternoon light brought out the reddish cast to her brown hair. “Nick, I hate waiting on people. Personal care is not my strong point.”
“You’re a nurse.”
“I deal primarily with adults,” she said. “You’re great with Caleb.”
It was apparent to him that she had the maternal instinct that Caleb needed during this difficult period. If only Nick could circumvent her knee-jerk rejection. “It doesn’t have to be permanent. In a year, I’m sure I can switch to the day shift.”
“A year’s a long time. And you’d still be on call for off-hours deliveries.”
He had no easy answer. Reluctantly, Nick conceded that his colleagues had had good reason to choose specialties with regular hours, not that he regretted his choice. “It’ll be my responsibility to figure out how to handle that.”
“And my leaving will upset Caleb all over again,” she reminded him. “I’m sure there must be others who would leap at an opportunity like this.”
He wasn’t about to trust his son to a stranger. Well, perhaps the licensed sitter Adrienne had recommended, but only if he had to.
Nick longed for stability, for his son and himself. To establish a routine with a sense of permanence. As for what he’d do when Zady departed, he couldn’t worry about that now. At least, with her initial help, he and Caleb could begin to put down roots and adjust to sharing a home.
“The Carrigans trust you. That’s a huge compliment.” The miles were passing too fast, and his window of opportunity was slipping away. “Zady, think of the money you’ll save.”
“Think of me turning thirty-one in another year,” she said. “I already wasted a decade. Living with you and Caleb will throw me off my plan.”
“What plan?” Even if the answer didn’t advance Nick’s cause, this topic sparked his curiosity.
“Never mind.”
“You have a plan?” he prompted again.
“I have a pain in the neck sitting next to me, whom I do not intend to room with,” she snapped. “That’s another issue—boundaries. You’re pushy. I hate pushy men.”
“I’m not pushy. I’m driven by my convictions.” Before she could attack his shaky logic, Nick said, “Consider security, then. You’ll be a lot safer sharing a house with a man.”
“Who’s gone four nights a week?” she countered. “And the crime rate in Safe Harbor is, what, in the negative range?”
“How can a crime rate be in the negative range?”
“When people bend over backward to help each other,” she responded quickly. “Admit defeat, Nick. Though I agree Caleb can’t stay with his grandparents. Mr. Carrigan suffers from congestive heart failure.”
He’d noticed the signs. “I guessed that from his puffiness and shortness of breath. But why are you so certain?”
“The medications on his bathroom counter.” She shrugged. “Assisted living is the right place for him. He and his wife can’t fight you. Their health won’t allow it.”
In congestive heart failure, the organ still pumped blood but with diminished power. Without proper treatment, fluid could build up, with potentially catastrophic results.
Medications and lifestyle changes might mitigate the problems, and surgery was an option in extreme cases. But bottom line, Bennie required more care than his wife could provide, especially while supervising a child and with her own health problems. He remembered her stumbling over a few words, and wondered if she might benefit from adjusting the dosage of whatever she was taking, too.
Still, even though Nick could claim his son without the Carrigans’ approval, he wanted to spare the boy the
kind of scars he bore from a turbulent home filled with conflict. “It’s in Caleb’s best interest for us all to work together for a smooth transition.”
Moving on to another potential reservation she might have, he asked, “You aren’t concerned about sharing a house with me, are you? Despite what my cousin thinks, I’m not a playboy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to blame Marshall for my refusing to double as your nanny!”
“No such thing.” However, her comment reminded him of her association with his cousin. Did he really want his personal details laid out for Marshall to pass judgment on? Not that Nick believed she’d spy on him, but doctors and nurses tended to let down their hair during breaks. Plus they might overhear conversations with fellow staffers. “You will be seeing him every day. I hadn’t considered that.”
“You hadn’t considered a lot of things.”
She was right; he might have been a bit impulsive back there at the Carrigans’ house. The fact that he enjoyed Zady’s company had influenced him, as well. It could be fun, sharing a house with her and Caleb, fixing meals, playing games and goofing around. And Nick would benefit from having someone to consult with and share observations of his son’s behavior. But he couldn’t shoehorn Zady into that role.
Ahead, a freeway sign announced they were approaching the Safe Harbor off-ramp. Reluctantly, Nick accepted that he’d have to move to plan B.
“You’re right,” he said.
“I am?”
“I’ll find someone else.”
“What changed your mind?”
“Caleb deserves a sitter who wants to be with him.” Nick shifted his coupe into the exit lane. “I’m sure a licensed care provider will warm to him.”
“Of course she will. He’s a cutie.” Her wistfulness signaled regret—unless he was imagining that.
“He’s adorable. And, like all kids, a handful.” Nick supposed he was about to receive a crash course in hands-on parenthood. Just as well that he’d have an experienced sitter as a guide.
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