A Mother's Love

by Dawn Stewardson

  Natalie nodded.

  “And, of course, Señora Perez needs help with working her way through all of this. Someone has to explain to her that even if her daughter lives, the long-term ramifications...”

  “I understand.”

  “And you’ll do it?”

  She nodded slowly. She’d never dreamed that her volunteering would involve crisis intervention or grief counseling. But she’d wanted to make herself useful, and she was certainly being given the opportunity.

  Looking decidedly relieved, Cynthia said, “I realize how much I’m asking, and I’d sit down and talk to Señora Perez myself if I could. But since my Spanish pretty much consists of por favor and gracias...

  “The thing is, if she doesn’t at least start coming to terms with the big picture... Well, as sorry as I feel for her, Emma is my prime concern. And if Señora Perez completely falls apart when her daughter dies, there’ll be no one for the child to turn to. No one except for the staff here, and we’re not much of a substitute for family.”

  “Does Emma know about her mother?”

  “I don’t think so. We’ve only said she isn’t able to come visit because she was taken to a different hospital. Of course, I’m not sure what Señora Perez has told Emma, but I suspect she’s assuring her that her mother’s going to be okay. Which means that, assuming she does die...”

  “It’ll be just awful,” Natalie murmured.

  * * *

  “SHE’S HERE,” ROBBIE SHOUTED, jumping off the couch and racing for the door.

  Hank followed along, his son’s excitement about Betty Harmand’s arrival making him feel a lot better.

  He’d met the woman in passing several times but didn’t know her well. So even though Audrey had assured him that Betty was someone Robbie liked, and that she paid him a lot of attention whenever she dropped by, it was good to see that he really was okay with her.

  They started down from the porch as she got out of her ancient Volvo. She was older than Audrey—somewhere in her mid-sixties, Hank figured. But since she had young grandchildren...well, hopefully, she wouldn’t find Robbie too much of a handful.

  “Hi,” she said, giving them a smile as they started toward the drive. “Has Audrey called you yet?”

  “Uh-huh, about an hour ago. She sounded as if she was smiling ear to ear.”

  “Well, the birth of your first grandchild is awfully exciting.”

  “She said the baby’s the most beautiful she’s ever seen. You don’t think she could be biased, do you?”

  When Betty laughed, Robbie suddenly turned shy and wrapped his arms around Hank’s knee.

  “Hey, I can’t walk if you do that,” he said as Betty opened the trunk.

  She eyed her two large suitcases for a moment before saying, “I probably brought too much. But this time of year the temperature always seems to bounce up and down like crazy.”

  While Hank took the cases from the trunk and closed it, she stood gazing out across his property. Then, as they started for the house, she said, “You know, it’s strange. In all the times I’ve been here I never thought of your house as being isolated. It kind of is, though, isn’t it?”

  He felt a ripple of uneasiness and hoped to hell her remark didn’t mean she was nervous about his working midnights. Robbie would pick up on that sort of vibe like a hound scenting a fox.

  “The lot’s only a little over three acres,” he told her.

  “I guess that woodland’s what makes it seem bigger.” She gestured toward the nature preserve he backed onto. “That and the fact your next-door neighbor isn’t very close,” she added, nodding in the direction of the Kubiceks’ place—the only house within shouting distance of his.

  “Close enough,” he said, deciding this was not the time to mention that the Kubiceks were off vacationing in California.

  “And if you run into any problems while I’m at work, which I’m sure won’t happen, you’ll have my cell number. I could get the Madison police out here faster than you’d believe.”

  Betty nodded, looking somewhat reassured.

  Inside, he took her cases to Audrey’s room, set them on the bed and said, “Do you want to unpack right away?”

  “That’s probably a good idea. It won’t take me long, and it will mean fewer wrinkles.”

  “I can help,” Robbie told her.

  Hank grinned, imagining how long the job would take if he did.

  “How about helping me instead,” he suggested. “It’s a little early to start lunch, but we’ll make some coffee.”

  “Juice, too.”

  “Right. And you can be in charge of putting out the plates for the cookies.”

  Robbie gave the suitcases a lingering look, but the lure of cookies was irresistible.

  As the two of them headed for the kitchen, Hank’s thoughts turned to Natalie. He’d promised she could come over this afternoon, and before she did, he had to explain things to Betty.

  He’d hoped that Audrey would do that before she left, but when she’d called Betty from the airport there’d been no answer. So he was stuck.

  And even though Audrey claimed that her friend was both understanding and circumspect, which meant he shouldn’t have to worry about her saying the wrong thing in front of Robbie, he didn’t relish the prospect of telling the story to someone he barely knew.

  After starting the coffee, he opened the cupboard to get what was left of the cookies Audrey had made the other day.

  No—it had been yesterday, he corrected himself, setting out a stack of three small plates for his son to distribute around the table. She’d made them because Natalie was coming for her first “getting to know Robbie” session.

  But how could it possibly have been only yesterday?

  For that matter, how could it be a mere three days since she’d first appeared? He felt as if he’d been in emotional turmoil for weeks.

  Telling himself to forget about Natalie for the time being, he strode over to take the juice from the fridge—and the note he’d stuck on its door caught his gaze.

  Natalie, he’d written, along with the number of the Whispering Winds Motel.

  So much for forgetting about her. Now her image was forming in his mind’s eye while the recollection of his initial impression of her began creeping around in his brain.

  He’d been attracted to her. And if they’d met under different circumstances...

  But they hadn’t. And under the existing circumstances, she was the enemy. The woman trying to take Robbie from him.

  Natalie. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her name.

  He wished he’d never so much as heard it. And wished, even harder, that there was no reason on earth he’d ever have to see her again.

  “Daddy?”

  He looked at his son. Her son.

  “Natalie’s comin’ after lunch, huh?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Good.”

  Robbie smiled happily.

  It almost broke Hank’s heart.

  * * *

  CYNTHIA HAD SENT NATALIE to have her picture taken for her photo ID, and they’d produced the laminated badge on the spot—complete with the promised Visiting Consultant designation.

  When she returned to the second floor, Cynthia introduced her to the staff in the nursing station and gave her a key to the psychologist’s office.

  “I’ll show you where it is so you can leave your purse there,” she said. “Then we’ll do a quick tour.”

  Natalie hadn’t been in a small American hospital for years, but there was nothing strange or startling about the Madison Plains pediatrics unit.

  The walls were painted in cheery colors, rather than the standard institutional green or beige of adult wards, and were adorned with framed posters of cartoon characters. Some of the patient rooms they glanced into on passing were singles, some doubles and a few contained four beds.

  Cynthia stopped just before they reached the last room on the right and quietly said,
“This is where Emma Perez is, so I’ll take you in to meet her. And her grandmother.”

  But when they walked into the room, they found only four little girls there.

  “Hi, Dr. Koehler,” they chorused from their beds.

  As she greeted them, Natalie focused on the one who had to be Emma, the one with the angelic face, straight, glossy black hair and her left leg in traction. Instantly, something inside her reached out to the child.

  After the earthquake, she’d spent weeks in traction with a broken leg. So she knew firsthand how bad the postsurgical pain was. Yet there was more to the affinity she felt with Emma than that.

  She hadn’t realized when she’d been lying in her hospital bed in Guatemala City that the worst was yet to come. Hadn’t known, until she went to the Sisters of Mercy Orphanage, that her son was gone.

  And Emma didn’t know her mother was going to die.

  Natalie swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat as Cynthia said, “This is Dr. Lawson, girls. She’s come to visit all of you, but especially you, Emma, because she speaks English and Spanish, just like you.”

  Natalie smiled; Emma gave her a shy smile in return.

  “So she’ll be able to talk to your grandmother,” Cynthia added. “I thought we’d find her here.”

  “She went for a walk,” Emma said. “Her ankles puff up if she sits too long.”

  “Well, I’d like to meet her,” Natalie said. “So maybe I’ll wait here until she gets back. Would it be okay if I visit with you until she does?”

  “Sure. I don’t get any visitors. ’Cept for my grandma, I mean.”

  “A couple of your friends came to see you,” Cynthia reminded her.

  “Oh, yeah. Carol and Annie. Annie’s mom brought them.”

  “That was nice of her, huh?” Natalie said.

  Emma nodded. “And my teacher came, too. I guess she counts. She brought some books from school.”

  “We have volunteer tutors for the children who’ll be out of school for a while,” Cynthia explained.

  “So we won’t get behind,” Emma added. “’Cuz if I got behind they might not let me go to grade three.

  “My mom can’t come see me, though. ’Cuz she’s in a hospital. But not this one.”

  “I know. Dr. Koehler told me about the fire. It must have been awfully scary.”

  “It was. And now I have bad dreams. Every night.”

  “I’m not surprised. And it’s terrible when you wake up from them, isn’t it?”

  Emma nodded.

  “Sometimes when she wakes up, she cries,” one of the other girls said. “And that wakes us up.”

  “She doesn’t mean it to,” Cynthia told her.

  “I know. But it does.”

  “The dreams will gradually go away,” Natalie said, her gaze still on Emma. “It just takes time.”

  “That’s what Dr. Koehler said, too.”

  Natalie smiled. “Then, it must be true, right?”

  “I guess,” Emma murmured doubtfully.

  “Ah, Señora Perez,” Cynthia said.

  When Natalie turned toward the doorway, a frail, tired-looking woman was standing in it—one of those people whose age is impossible to guess. She could be in her fifties or her seventies.

  “Señora Perez?” Natalie said to her. “Me llamo Doctora Lawson.”

  The woman seemed startled for an instant, then said, “¿Habla español?”

  “Sí.” Briefly she explained that she was here, temporarily, from Guatemala.

  “Dr. Koehler,” she continued in Spanish, “thought that you might like to talk to me about Emma’s treatment. And about your daughter’s.”

  Her eyes filled with tears—bringing a fresh lump to Natalie’s throat. “Sí,” she murmured. “A mi me lo gustaria mucho. Gracias.”

  Natalie swallowed hard. Señora Perez might be saying she’d very much like to talk about where things stood, but they both knew it would be a difficult conversation.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AS PROMISED, NATALIE had phoned—and Hank had reluctantly told her to come over. Now she was here, her Taurus swinging into the driveway.

  He switched off the lawn mower and brushed some bits of grass from the legs of his jeans as the car tires crunched along the gravel.

  Then he glanced over at the porch, where Betty Harmand and Robbie were playing with an educational toy consisting of a large magnet, magnetized marbles and brightly colored paper clips that disappeared at such an alarming rate he’d already bought three boxes of replacements.

  The porch, with cracks between its floorboards, was hardly an ideal place for that particular game. But Robbie and Betty were getting along well, so he wasn’t going to worry about a few dozen more lost paper clips.

  He focused on the driveway again, in time to watch Natalie climb out of her car.

  The white dress she was wearing made her hair seem almost coal-black in contrast. And when she pushed her sunglasses up onto her head, her eyes looked even bigger and darker than he’d recalled. She really was an incredibly attractive woman.

  For the thousandth time, he told himself to stop noticing that. And while he was at it, to stop thinking she was so nice—nice enough that if circumstances were different...

  But they weren’t. The bottom line hadn’t changed in the slightest. She wanted his son, and the last thing he intended to do was let himself start liking her.

  If he had no positive feelings for her, it would be a whole lot easier to negotiate firmly. Or to dig in his heels and be downright ornery, if that was what it came to.

  “Hi,” he said when she started across the lawn.

  “Hi.”

  She glanced toward the porch, then back at him. “You know, I was halfway here before I realized I hadn’t asked about Audrey’s daughter. Has she had her baby yet?”

  He nodded. “A little girl they’re calling Beth. And Audrey made it to the hospital just before the delivery, so she’s floating.”

  Natalie smiled; the thought that she had a great smile sneaked into his mind.

  Mentally shoving it back out, he said, “Come meet Betty.”

  As they neared the porch, Betty caught his eye. She clearly felt uneasy, which was hardly surprising.

  When she’d agreed to fill in for Audrey she hadn’t expected to find herself in the midst of a disconcerting situation like this one. And even though she’d uttered the right phrases when he’d explained it to her—saying “How awful,” and “What a terrible thing to happen”—he could tell she’d rather not have to deal with a complication she hadn’t anticipated.

  “Robbie, look who’s here,” he said as they headed up the steps.

  Maybe Robbie picked up on the lack of enthusiasm in his voice. But whatever the reason, despite his earlier excitement about Natalie’s visit, he barely glanced at her.

  After Hank had introduced her to Betty and they’d exchanged a few pleasantries, she crouched down next to Robbie and asked what he was playing. Robbie merely gave her a disinterested shrug.

  “Well, now that you’ve arrived, Natalie,” Betty said, “I think I’ll go inside for a while.”

  “You promised to read me a story,” Robbie reminded her.

  She shot Hank an uncertain glance, then said, “Maybe Natalie would like to do that.”

  “But I want you to.”

  The whining tone that was becoming more common every day had crept into his voice.

  According to the current bible—Your Three-Year-Old’s Behavior—that was perfectly normal. But it was something Hank could do happily without.

  “Robbie, I think you’ve worn Mrs. Harmand out,” he said. “She deserves a rest.”

  “But she promised.”

  While he was still trying to decide how to deal with his son’s behavior, Natalie stood up, saying, “You know, I need to stretch my legs. Is it okay if I wander around for a few minutes?”

  “Sure,” he said, ordering himself to ignore her hurt expression.

  As she st
arted down off the porch, Betty murmured, “Hank? What do you want me to do?”

  He looked at his son. “Robbie?”

  Robbie ignored him.

  Dropping to one knee, he said, “Robbie, listen to me.”

  “What?” he muttered, still not making eye contact.

  “Mrs. Harmand is going to read you a story because she promised she would. But after that I want you to be nice to Natalie. When someone talks to you and you don’t talk back, you make the person feel bad. Understand?”

  He silently nodded.

  “Okay. Then go inside and pick a book.”

  “Sorry about this,” he said as Robbie disappeared into the house.

  “That’s all right. It’s not your fault.”

  “No, but you shouldn’t be getting dragged into it.”

  He gazed across the lawn, now trying to decide what to do about Natalie.

  She’d vanished from sight, was probably walking down toward the nature preserve. And while half of him hoped she’d keep right on walking forever, the other half felt sorry for her—which he knew was ridiculous.

  Wasn’t his fantasy that Robbie would decide he didn’t like her? That she’d eventually give up and go away?

  But even though her doing so would solve his problem, something was making him feel guilty as hell about how badly she must be feeling. So did he act on that? Or did he listen to the voice of reason telling him it would be far smarter to simply leave her be?

  He swore under his breath, then said to Betty, “I guess I’d better see if she’s okay.”

  Once he reached the side of the house, he spotted her. He’d been right; she was heading toward the bottom of the yard. By walking rapidly, he caught up with her as she reached the fence.

  She must have heard him coming, but she simply stood gazing straight ahead, her hands on the top rail.

  “Robbie’s just overexcited,” he said. “With first Betty arriving today, then you...

  “Look, I read a fair bit of child psychology. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a clue how to handle him half the time. But my point is that I gather three and a half can be a really difficult age.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “Thanks for reminding me, though. This isn’t exactly the way I expected it to be.”