With that, he walked away, leaving Andrea feeling humiliated and angry with him, like so many other times in her life. Did he still think she was ten? She stood and watched her father leave the cafeteria, then mumbled under her breath, “Jerk.”
Sam bit his lip, watching her, probably realizing her old man treated everyone the same, including his only daughter. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Let’s eat.” Determined not to let on how upset she was, she led the way, taking some pleasure in the fact that Sam looked as if he wanted to deck her father.
They headed toward the line, filling their trays with the day’s special soup-and-sandwich combo, tomato bisque and turkey deli. She’d been busy and hadn’t realized how hungry she was, but now she’d lost her appetite, so with little thought she picked the sandwich combo. They found a table off in the corner of the cafeteria.
“You want to talk about what just happened?” Sam asked shortly after sitting.
“Absolutely not.”
“Okay. Moving right along... I’ve been thinking about last night.”
Even though she was still furious with her father, a naughty thought about their triple header last night crossed Andrea’s mind and warmth trickled up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. Grateful for the respite from the tense encounter with her father, she couldn’t hide her response.
“Not that, you bad girl,” Sam said, lightly pinching her arm, playing along, embers igniting in those steel blue eyes.
She laughed, relieved she was back to her life as normal with the guy she was crazy about, especially those sexy eyes of his. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Yes, he did!
They shared a special smoldering gaze and smile that proved he knew exactly what she was thinking, and which set off a stream of liquid heat traveling through her navel and meandering southward. Wow, no guy had ever had such power over her that she could instantaneously forget yet another lousy meeting with her demanding father. Sam reached across the table and squeezed her hand, letting her know he felt exactly the same way. This, the sexual sparks between them, they both understood without a doubt or a single word.
She was in way over her head, with everything moving too fast, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do to stop it other than break things off. Which was the last thing she wanted to do.
He took in a slow breath and let go of her hand. They’d come to the cafeteria to eat after all. “So, anyway, what I was saying about last night refers to our conversation about your feeling like Dani’s babysitter.”
She’d just taken a bite of her deli turkey sandwich so she just nodded deeply and lifted her brows. Yeah, she remembered that tense conversation very well. As she recalled, she’d started it.
“I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you to watch my kid, or that you are somehow considered second best in my life. Anyway, I’ve devised a plan to make sure you won’t feel that way about this weekend.”
She hadn’t yet swallowed, but she did so quickly in order to ask her question. “What are you talking about?”
He took a quick spoonful of soup and continued. “I’ve decided to go to Mexico this weekend and I want you to come with me.”
She nearly choked on what was left of her next bite of sandwich. “You’re going?”
He nodded, lips tight in a straight line, the quintessential look of determination.
Just like Dad. “Just like that?”
“Cat’s agreed to watch Dani so we can go with the hospital team. Medical missions are life-changing. I can’t wait to share it with you.”
“But, Sam, I haven’t made up my mind yet.” She still hadn’t painted one stroke from that inspirational moment at the swings in the playground. Was he planning on taking over her life and interfering just as her father did? She tensed.
“We could have a romantic weekend away in Mexico.” There went his hand again, reaching for hers and grasping her fingers.
“With the drug cartels?”
“I get it. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said. “But I was hoping you’d go with me. I want to share it with you, have you there so you can see why I feel so committed to these trips.”
“But don’t you worry about Dani losing more time with you while you follow that passion for medicine and missions?”
“I know that’s a touchy subject with you these days but, Andrea, as much as I love Dani, sometimes he’ll have to understand that my job comes first. Not always. And certainly not because I put him second. Just that sometimes things come up that I feel called to do. This is one of them.”
Why did the guy have to make such sense? “I need more time to think about this.”
“You’ve got all afternoon and night. Those people could use your help just as much as they need mine. I can guarantee it.” He shoved what was left of the half sandwich he’d been eating into his mouth and watched her.
She’d been in plenty of these positions with her father her entire life. Her back figuratively against the wall, but the words being used sounding like anything but an ultimatum. Do this, it’ll be good for you. Part of her wanted to believe he was using one of her father’s subversive techniques. But the other part, the part that knew this man was nothing like her father, nor could he ever be, understood he simply wanted to share his passion for medicine with her. This trip was special to him.
But having just come away from another tense encounter with her father, she wasn’t in the proper frame of mind to give in so easily.
She sat spine straight, chin up, hands folded on her lap, not about to let him win this round, even while hating that a hospital mission to help the needy was at the center of the argument. What did that say about her? But she had to stand firm for now. “And I’d like to use all of that time to make my decision. On my terms. If I decide to go, it will be on my terms.”
The man must be good at poker, because he didn’t give away a single reaction to her holding out for more time. “That’s perfectly understandable and reasonable.” He spooned more soup into his mouth.
“Damn right it’s reasonable,” she mumbled. Okay, so she didn’t sound quite as reasonable as he did, but maybe because she still felt as if she was talking more to her father than to Sam.
The way he lifted the corner of his mouth in a near smile proved she hadn’t offended him. Did he think everything she did was cute?
When he’d finished his soup he wiped his mouth, stood, then bent to kiss her cheek. “If you make up your mind, we’re leaving from the south parking lot at 6:00 a.m.” He started to go but turned back. “Oh, and don’t forget your passport.” Then he left.
She shoved the rest of her sandwich into her mouth and chomped, irritated that Sam might be taking her for granted but also very curious about what a medical mission to Mexico would be like.
* * *
Sam was on the verge of feeling disappointed in the woman he was pretty sure he loved when he saw her beat-up champagne-colored sedan pull into the hospital parking lot at five forty-five the next morning. He’d purposely left her alone to make up her mind last night, though he’d thought about calling her any number of times. Relieved, he grinned all the way to opening the car door for her.
She tossed him a conciliatory glance as she got out. He hugged her, and she was receptive. “Glad to see you. Where’s your bag?”
“In the trunk.”
He found her duffel bag and several fishing-tackle boxes, but having had her make a home visit to Dani he understood that was how she carried her O&A supplies. From the backseat of the car he saw her remove a large over-the-shoulder portfolio bag. “Planning on painting?”
“Maybe. Actually, as crazy as it may sound, if time allows, it might be a way to help the kids deal with stress. We’ll see.”
That was exactly why he loved this lady, she was th
oughtful and caring and knew how to use art for therapy. What more could he ask?
He helped her carry everything to the van he’d been assigned, making room for her belongings despite the overflowing medical supplies. With very few words but a heartfelt kiss before they left, they set out on a nearly four-hour drive across the border to Mexicali.
* * *
It had been a long and, even though it was early morning, warm drive to Baja California, then on to Mexicali and the village on the outskirts of the city of Cuernavaca. The landscape looked much like the high desert in California and long flat vistas similar to the San Fernando Valley except without all the buildings, and it struck Andrea how similar the two states were. Though poverty was more apparent here. Slowly the roads got smaller and the towns grew poorer until they were on the farthest outskirts of Cuernavaca in a village decimated by a bomb and fire, thanks to a drug cartel.
The nearest hospital was small and overflowing, and though most of the severely injured patients had been taken there, many wounded and in need of care remained in the nearby area. Plus, as was always the case with these kinds of missions, word traveled fast and people who’d been dealing with medical issues for any number of reasons came pouring out of the countryside, looking for help.
The medical mission had been instructed to set up their makeshift clinic at the local school. They’d discussed it on the drive down and planned to divide classrooms into triage areas, patient education, easy procedures and exams, and more complex issues. A long line of people was already waiting to be seen when they arrived.
The vans were emptied of volunteers and supplies in record time and by noon the clinic was in full swing. Andrea glimpsed the dedication Sam had for helping those in need. He jumped right in and over the next several hours worked tirelessly to see and treat as many people as he could, along with the handful of other doctors, residents and nurses.
It was inspiring, and Andrea admitted she was glad she was there, even if she was nervous and felt a bit out of place. She saw her first patient with half an ear missing, made her mold of the other ear and took several pictures of what was left of the damaged side for fitting the prosthetic, then took all the information on where to mail the final product. Once again word got out and parents seemed to come crawling out of the woodwork with their kids. Some children were in need of prosthetics due to trauma and some due to a condition known as microtia. These injuries and conditions had nothing to do with the bombing, but Andrea was glad to help the community in any way she could. It turned out auricular prostheses were in high demand. Who knew?
By the end of the first day she’d seen no less than a dozen patients who needed everything from eyes to a portion of the nose and several who needed ears. She could do this, and what a joy to help little children look and feel normal again, not to mention the handful of adults who presented with missing facial parts. The only drawback was them having to wait until she went home to her workshop to make all the prosthetics and mail them back. And the prosthetic eyes wouldn’t be custom-made or fitted as usual, but anything would be an improvement over an empty eye socket.
The gratitude was overwhelming, and because she didn’t speak Spanish she’d smiled and nodded so much all day that by the afternoon her cheeks nearly cramped and her neck was sore.
During the evening she invited the young patients who were able to move around to come and draw pictures with her. She’d set up a little art clinic so they could dabble in just about any medium they wanted. Most stuck with pencil and drawing paper, but a few ventured into watercolors and one lone and talented teenager asked to try his hand at acrylics on canvas. She was thrilled to see them come out of their shells as they reached inside to their creative muses and worked out their fears and concerns through art. She knew firsthand the power of art and loved sharing it.
Sam caught up with her and grinned to see how engaged she’d become with the locals.
“Anyone ever tell you that you look like a canvas?”
She didn’t get what he was saying until he took a rag and wiped away paint smudges from her cheeks. She laughed. “I do get messy when I’m in the zone with painting. I guess that’s a good sign.”
He hugged her, and after they’d shared a kiss she could see the passion for her and all things medical in his gaze, even though he looked exhausted from the long hours he’d put in. He belonged here. People in the world needed doctors like him, and a pang of guilt over her wanting him to stay home with his son made her stand straighter, and feel confused. As he’d said, sometimes Dani would have to understand that his job came first. So would she.
Life was complicated. Always would be.
“Have you got a minute?” he asked.
She looked at the group of kids deeply involved in their various projects. “Will you guys be okay without me?” She asked the one little girl who knew English to interpret for her. She repeated Andrea’s question and everyone nodded and agreed they’d be fine without her for a little while. Andrea looked at the oldest boy working diligently on his small canvas. “Will you look after everyone for me?”
The little girl interpreted again, and the boy, named Rigoberto, nodded. “Si, si.”
Sam took her hand and led her to a separate tent with a few cots inside. “Earlier I participated in surgically cleaning up a below-the-knee amputation. I want to check on Fernando.”
“My God, you did major surgery here?” She glanced around at what was essentially a camping excursion setup, not a hospital.
“Actually, the bomb took care of that. The kid’s leg was blown to smithereens. Good thing we brought a surgeon along. We debrided the flesh and cauterized the veins. Hopefully he didn’t have too much nerve damage. For now he’s stable and on pain meds and antibiotics.” He went straight to a cot where a young black-haired boy slept deeply. He didn’t look more than five or six.
Sam placed a gentle hand on his forehead and studied the kid, and Andrea’s heart nearly broke over the compassion she saw in the man. He had so much to give, was heroic even, and didn’t need to think twice about coming here once the opportunity had arisen. Unlike her. Plus he had to be an amazing doctor to do what he’d done for this young boy today.
What wasn’t to like, or love, about Sam Marcus?
An IV flowed into one arm with a large fluid bag and several smaller ones, no doubt antibiotics to fight off infection in his mangled leg. In the other arm, blood was being given through the second IV. A nurse Andrea recognized from the hospital kept close vigil over the boy, who’d obviously been given something for pain.
“How’s he doing, Gina?”
“Pretty good. No fever. Vitals are stable.”
“Great.”
A quarter of his tiny right leg was missing and heavily bandaged. “He’s small for his age,” Sam said to Andrea. “He’s seven, and both of his parents were killed in the explosion. His uncle was the informant and they all lived together. Tomorrow we’ll have to transfer him to the main hospital in Mexicali to wait for real surgery with excess bone removal and most likely skin grafts. Then after that he’ll probably be put in an orphanage.” He glanced up at Andrea, empathy coloring those blue eyes with concern. “Who knows what will happen to him after that.”
Sam looked so sad. She understood the boy’s future didn’t look bright, and the ache in her chest made the backs of her eyes prick momentarily.
Sam noticed, and being the benevolent healer he was he put his arm around her. “The good news is with a below-the-knee amputation a modern prosthetic could let him walk and run almost like normal.”
After one last check of the boy, Sam led her outside. “The bad news is he’ll probably never get a prosthetic in an orphanage, or it will be some clunky outdated version, and he’ll have to spend the rest of his life on crutches, feeling like a cripple.”
“But you’ll find a way to help with that, right
?” If anyone could, Sam would.
He nodded, determination turning his blue eyes darker. She hugged him, thinking she loved how he couldn’t walk away from children without helping in some way. He could make a difference for this one, just like the starfish parable. It was the mark of a good, good man. He had a near saint of a mother and a big family to thank for that. They stood for several moments comforting each other and Andrea considering the bad fortune in life.
Then it hit her. She didn’t have the special gift Sam did, the compassion and love in his heart. She’d been left emotionally flawed because of her childhood, and it held her back in life. Her wounds weren’t obvious, like Dani’s or Fernando’s, but they were nevertheless there. Her eyes burned and while holding Sam she let some tears flow, let him think it was because of the moving experience of the boy with the missing leg on this medical mission. Not because she felt broken inside.
Later, they slept near each other on the ground in sleeping bags, holding hands, and somehow it seemed as romantic as staying in a tropical B and B. Her world had opened up in ways she’d never dreamed of since meeting Sam. Maybe he could help heal her, too.
He’d been right about the medical mission. It had not only been life-changing, it had opened her eyes. The hard part was that she didn’t like what she saw about herself.
* * *
Late Sunday afternoon they headed home. Andrea had seen how special Sam was with the sick children and finally understood without a doubt that he’d found his true calling. He was willing to make sacrifices for it, too. Though she’d been deeply moved by interacting with her share of patients, she, on the other hand, was heading home feeling a bit overwhelmed. She had a dozen or so prosthetics she’d promised to make for children and adults in the village, plus her regular work lined up at the hospital. How would she find time to do everything? Not to mention to paint that landscape she’d had on her mind since the evening at the playground.
How did Sam do it?
Why did she have to feel pulled in two directions, one practical and one artistic? Could she be a whole person if she gave up her art in order to help needy patients full-time? Wasn’t there a place for art in life? Didn’t it bring joy and beauty to people? She’d seen the sparkles in those kids’ eyes as they’d drawn and painted, and shouldn’t that be valued as much as the practical things? But she also knew she’d miss her patients. She loved helping people as much as painting.
A Mother for His Adopted Son Page 11
