by Rachel Lacey
She blotted the image from her mind as she got herself ready for work, fed and walked the dogs, and gated them in the kitchen. Okay, maybe she gave herself just a moment to daydream about T.J. in the blue button-down shirt and khakis he’d worn last Sunday.
It was better than caffeine. Almost.
She made it to work a few minutes before seven, eager to check on her small patients and see who’d gone home since Tuesday, who was new, who was on the mend.
From outside the door of Room 310, she heard Jayden’s high-pitched screams, and her chest caved in on itself. She pushed through the door and hurried to his crib. He’d freed his arms from the swaddle and smacked himself in the face as he wailed, his cheeks an angry red.
Merry reached for her MedLink phone, but she’d just passed Jessie in the hall on her way to give the little girl in 304 a bath. Jayden shrieked louder.
She reached into the crib and lifted him into her arms. His little body was stiff with anguish. She checked his diaper, then his digital record. He’d had his last bottle only thirty minutes ago. He was clean and full. He just needed to be held. Comforted.
Didn’t everyone need that sometimes? T.J. had done it for her just yesterday. In his arms, she’d forgotten her pain. Maybe now she could do the same for Jayden.
“Shhh.” She cradled the baby against her chest, rocking and soothing in a way that had once been second nature. Jayden sobbed into her scrubs, arms still flailing.
She set him on the bassinet to reswaddle him, which only fueled his meltdown. By the time she pulled him back into her arms, he was rigid, his back arched against her touch. She rocked him, shushing as she went.
Jayden screamed louder.
Merry’s chest tightened. She couldn’t do this. She was wasting her time. There was probably another patient out there who needed her, one that she could actually help.
Jayden’s arms popped free again, his tiny fists clenched. His piercing scream lodged deep in her soul, cracking into the tender depths of her heart.
The poor baby needed comfort, and right now she was all he had. She drew a deep breath and tucked his arms back inside the swaddle.
She kept rocking, humming the lullabies she’d once sung to Tyler. After several long, painful minutes, the baby in her arms calmed. His eyes began to droop, and he snuggled closer against her chest.
Battling tears of her own, Merry sat in the rocker and held him, rocking and humming as he slept in her arms. His little body felt so warm, so sweet, so perfect. She’d almost forgotten how it felt to cradle a sleeping infant.
She closed her eyes to absorb the moment. Something felt different, almost quiet inside her. It had been a while since she’d felt it.
Peace.
Jayden would be ready to go home soon. He’d passed the worst of the withdrawals and was close to being stabilized on his antiseizure medication.
She pictured him at home with his foster family, being loved and played with in a cheerful nursery, and it took some of the ache out of her heart. Precious babies like Jayden didn’t belong here, ought never to have seen the inside of a hospital other than the labor and delivery wing.
His birth mother, Crystal, had visited him again last week. She’d been released to a halfway house and was trying to get her life in order for her son. She was clean now, and she wanted him back.
The door opened, and Lavinia Thomas, Jayden’s foster mom, stepped inside. She came to visit him most mornings around this time on her way to work. Today she wore a pale pink dress with matching peep-toe heels.
Merry looked up at her and smiled. “Good morning.”
“Hey, Merry.” Lavinia set her purse beside the crib and came to kiss Jayden’s forehead.
“You have good timing because I need to get on with my rounds, but this guy needed to be held for a little while.” She stood slowly, careful not to wake him.
Lavinia held out her arms, and Merry laid Jayden into her embrace. Lavinia sat and rocked with him. Merry reached for her clipboard, fighting the empty feeling left behind.
“Any more seizures?” Lavinia asked.
Merry shook her head. “If he stays like this, he might be able to go home by the end of the week.”
“Do you think he will?”
“It’s hard to say. Dr. Lopez adjusted his antiseizure meds on Friday, so right now it’s a game of wait and see.”
Lavinia’s brow creased. “I didn’t really realize it could be so soon.”
“Well, it’s up to the doctor, of course.”
“I haven’t told his caseworker yet, but I’m going to have to bow out as Jayden’s foster mom.” Lavinia looked down at the baby in her arms, her dark eyes troubled.
Merry pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, no. Why?”
“The seizures, they scare me. I don’t think I can handle it on my own. I’m pregnant myself, eight weeks along, and I’ve been so exhausted and sick. He needs more care than I can give right now.”
“Oh. Well, congratulations on your pregnancy.”
“Thank you.”
“He might be perfectly healthy, you know. There’s no way of knowing how much special care he’ll need long term.” Merry’s protective instinct was on overdrive. She wanted to beg this woman not to give up on him now, not when he needed her most. Lavinia wouldn’t give up her own child if he or she was diagnosed with special needs, would she?
Maybe she would. In her time as a nurse, Merry had seen that and worse.
And while she’d never personally given up a foster dog when things got tough, she’d known many foster families who had, and sometimes she really couldn’t blame them. Other family and commitments took precedence.
Merry had no one but her dogs.
“I feel terrible about it,” Lavinia said. “I’ve never had to give up a foster child before, but it’s best for me to bow out now before he gets older and forms an attachment. I’ll stay on with him until DSS places him with someone new.”
Merry forced a smile. “I’m sure it will all work out. I wish I could stay and talk more, but I’ve got to get back to my rounds. Push the button if you need me.”
Lavinia nodded.
Merry stepped into the hall feeling absolutely heartsick for Jayden. She never should have held him. Now she was left with the memory of his weight in her arms, his breath against her cheek, and oh, how she wanted to protect him from the cruel realities of his life.
* * *
On Sunday afternoon, Jayden had another seizure. Merry had to watch helplessly all over again as the doctors fought to stabilize him, as his stay in the hospital grew longer.
It was heartbreaking.
And it was still on her mind as she arrived for camp on Monday morning. After spending practically every moment together from Wednesday afternoon until Saturday night, she now hadn’t seen T.J. in over twenty-four hours.
It was mind-boggling how things had changed since last Monday. The things they’d done and shared. He knew about Tyler.
And she was okay with that.
Amber had gone home last night, and Merry couldn’t wait to see her. She’d wanted to bring Amber back to her house to recuperate, but as she was in the middle of her work week, she’d agreed to let her come here to T.J.’s instead.
She let herself in his front door and deposited her purse in the kitchen as she always did, then went looking for man and dog. She found them in the living room.
Amber lay in her dog bed, curled around a couple of stuffed animals, her right front leg wrapped in blue vet wrap. T.J. sat on the couch, iPhone in hand. He stood and tugged Merry into his arms for a heady kiss that almost swept her right off her feet.
“Mornin’,” he said.
“Good morning. How is she?”
“Still pretty sore, but I haven’t had any trouble with her.”
Merry slid from his arms and crouched next to Amber. The dog looked up at her with warm eyes and a shy thump of her tail. “He been taking good care of you?”
Amber licked her palm.<
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“Have you talked to Noah?” she asked. The last she’d heard, the boy still wasn’t talking, probably traumatized by whatever had happened.
“I visited them yesterday. He’s not saying a word.” T.J.’s face was pinched with frustration.
“I’m sure he feels guilty.” And Merry felt awful about that. Thank goodness Amber was going to be okay so Noah wouldn’t have to bear the weight of a worse outcome on his small shoulders.
The front door opened, and he and Amy walked in.
“Morning,” Amy said. “We wanted to see how she’s doing before camp started.”
“She’s doing great. Come on over, Noah. She’s missed you.” Merry held her hand out to him, but Noah turned away. Amber watched, her tail wagging madly as she waited for her favorite person to come greet her.
“Go on, Noah,” Amy urged.
Noah stood with his back turned, his hands flailing.
Merry’s heart broke for him. “You know what, I need to start setting up in the barn. Noah, could you help me?”
He nodded, then bolted out the front door.
Amy gave her a pained look. “He’s been like this since Friday. I don’t know what to do.”
Merry touched her shoulder. “I’ll see if I can talk to him about it today.”
Merry looked at T.J. She saw the frustration and worry etched on his face. Then she walked out the front door, hoping against hope she could do something to help.
She found Noah in the barn, standing outside the stall where the dogs were. He’d picked the sleeves of his shirt to shreds and now stood there, hands slapping his sides, as agitated as she’d ever seen him.
She carefully extracted Ralph from the stall without letting the puppies out, then took Noah’s hand and walked through the barn to the picnic tables behind.
“Wanna know a secret?” she asked.
Noah looked at her. Purple rings surrounded his eyes. The poor kid wasn’t sleeping. What in the world had happened when her back was turned? Why hadn’t she been keeping a closer eye on him while he walked Amber? She should have insisted on walking with him.
This was her fault, and now she had to fix it.
“Ralph is a little bit magic,” she told him.
Noah’s brows scrunched. “Magic isn’t real.”
“Sure it is. Give Ralph a big hug and close your eyes.”
The boy did as he was told. Ralph rested his head over Noah’s right shoulder. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. Noah did the same.
“Hold on to him for a minute, just like that,” she said softly, watching as Ralph worked his magic on the boy. She saw the tension leave his small frame. They stayed like that for several long minutes, both breathing slow and deep.
When Noah opened his eyes and looked up at Merry, some of the pain had dissipated from their blue depths.
“See? Magic, right?”
He nodded.
“I use his magic all the time, whenever I’m feeling upset. Works every time. So feel free to take as many magic hugs as you need during camp, okay? Ralph has an endless supply.”
Indeed. Ralph had absorbed the boy’s stress and banished it, looking positively blissful to have Noah’s arms wrapped around him. He turned his head to kiss the boy’s cheek, and Noah smiled.
“You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”
Noah turned away.
“Amber loves you. She misses you. It’s not your fault she got hurt.”
Tears welled in his eyes.
“Maybe if you tell me what happened, I could help you sort it out.”
He shook his head.
“Okay, but if you change your mind, I’m always ready to listen. I’m going to let you work with Ralph during camp today since Amber needs to rest. If you feel up to it afterward though, she’d really love if you came up and visited her at the house. She loves you, Noah.”
At the mention of visiting Amber, Noah tensed up again. Ralph leaned a shoulder into him and took a deep breath, prompting Noah to do the same.
Merry had never been more proud of her dog. He truly was magic. He looked up at her with those warm, brown eyes, thrilled to be able to help Noah, and she sent him silent promises for whatever creature comforts he wanted for the rest of his life.
He was one of a kind.
“Merry?” Olivia’s voice drifted from the barn.
“Out here,” she answered.
Olivia walked out, Bosley at her side. “Hey, guys. How’s Amber?”
“She’s doing great. She’s resting up at the house.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Merry followed her into the barn to get ready for the other kids. Noah walked behind them with Ralph at his side.
Soon the barn was filled with kids and dogs. Salsa twirled around Jules, yipping happily. Chip, who’d come leaps and bounds with his behavior, sat politely at Parker’s feet, waiting for his next reward. Lucy practiced a stay with Bosley, backing her wheelchair over the hard-packed dirt while the dog waited for the command to come.
It was beautiful to watch. Merry was ridiculously proud of how far they’d all come as they began their last week of camp.
In the corner, Noah watched, his arms around Ralph. T.J. stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest, looking dark and brooding. He kept staring at Noah, but every time Noah saw him watching, he averted his eyes.
The whole thing made Merry want to cry. She had to fix this before she left.
But first things first.
“Good morning,” she said. “Hope you all had a great weekend. Can everyone ask their dogs to lie down for a minute while we go over our daily schedule?”
Her anguish turned to a smile as four children gave the command to lie down and four dogs plopped onto the dirt, happily munching on their rewards. “That was perfect, you guys. Do you know how far you’ve come in three weeks? I am so proud of you.”
“I’m proud of us too,” Jules said, bouncing with excitement. Salsa leaped up to kiss her, then lay back down when Jules repeated the command.
“You should be.” Merry adored that little girl and her complete, unfiltered honesty. Merry hoped she’d always be that way: sweet, happy, and one hundred percent real.
She glanced at Noah, saw him engaged in a quiet conversation with Ralph. The dog listened with undivided attention.
“Okay, guys, I do have some news. Amber had an accident on Friday. She broke her leg, and she’s not going to be able to participate in camp this week.”
“Oh, no!” Jules clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Poor Amber.”
“The good news is she’s going to be just fine. She’s up at the house resting, and she’d really love if you guys could all come and see her after lunch. Sound good?”
They all nodded.
“What happened?” Lucy asked.
“Well, she got hit by a car, but—” Merry held up a hand as the kids gasped. “The vet got her all patched up. She just needs to rest and stay off that leg for a little while.”
“I broke my arm once,” Parker said. “It hurt like crazy.”
Merry looked over and saw Noah standing with his back to them, his hands flailing at his sides. Poor kid. He felt responsible for Amber’s accident. How could she help him to see that it wasn’t his fault, that sometimes bad things just happened?
“I bet,” she said to Parker. “The vet gave Amber some medicine to help with her pain.”
T.J. crossed the barn to his nephew, talking to him in tones too low for Merry to hear. He put his hands on Noah’s shoulders, then slid them down his arms, trying to help calm him, to stop the agitation causing his arms to flap uncontrollably.
The boy pulled free and ran out of the barn, flailing more wildly than ever.
“Okay, guys. I’m going to have Olivia warm you up with some leash-walking skills. I’ll be around to work with each of you individually. I’m going to let you each pick one last skill or trick to teach your dog, so be thinking what you’d like it to be. Toward the end of the week,
we’ll fine-tune everything and get ready for the exhibition for your families after camp’s over.”
“Roll over!” Jules exclaimed. “I want to teach Salsa to roll over.”
“Perfect, Jules.” She smiled at the girl, then followed Noah and T.J. out of the barn.
T.J. stood behind him, his hands extended toward his nephew. “Stop that, buddy. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Noah flailed harder, completely out of control.
“Hey, Noah, remember that magic we talked about?” she said.
Noah reached for Ralph and wrapped his arms around him. Merry walked to T.J. and rested a hand on his shoulder. Together, they watched as Noah nestled his head on the dog’s shoulder, his body still and calm.
Beside her, T.J. bristled with tension.
“That’s perfect, Noah.” She led T.J. to the doorway of the barn, giving Noah a few moments alone to finish composing himself.
“How do you do that?” T.J. grumbled. “What magic?”
“Don’t you think that’s magic?” She nodded toward boy and dog. Noah sat with his arms around Ralph, his head down. Quiet. Peaceful.
T.J. turned, his dark eyes heavy on hers. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
* * *
Magic.
Wasn’t that the truth?
T.J. had tried everything to calm Noah and only managed to make things worse. Merry had only to invoke whatever spell she’d cast over Noah and Ralph and voilà, he was calm.
He shouldn’t be jealous of her ability to communicate with Noah, but hell, he couldn’t help it. More than anything, he wanted that bond with his nephew. He wanted to know what was upsetting him so much that he’d lost control of his body. Why he wouldn’t tell them what had happened to Amber.
He wanted to help.
“You keep an eye on them,” Merry said, then went back inside the barn.
So he stood there, helpless, watching as Noah hugged that damn dog. Why had he ever doubted that Merry was the right person for this camp?
Finally Noah stood and walked back into the barn. Ralph walked at his side, his attention completely devoted to the boy who held his leash. If Noah had asked him to jump off the roof, he probably would have done it. He was completely dedicated to helping others, especially kids. Just like the woman who owned him.
