JUST A DREAM AGO
--- Joan Emerson (AE215jfe@aol.com)
“What? Did I become incapable overnight?” she demanded in irritation.
Doctor Kelly Brackett looked at his head nurse in surprise. “No, of course not. But that’s not the point . . . . . . . .”
“That’s exactly the point!” Dixie interrupted. “There’s absolutely no reason for you to pass up this conference!”
Kell held up his hand in surrender. “It just seems like a lot to leave you with,” he began, only to be interrupted once more.
“It’s six days, Kell,” she retorted, “and I can certainly manage on my own for six days.” Seeking to cut off all avenues of protest, she added, “And if I can’t, then I can always call Joe and Julie.”
“Six days is a long time for you have to have all the responsibility for four small children.” He spoke hesitantly, uncertain of her reaction. It wasn’t that he had any concern about her caring for the children, it was just that it seemed rather . . . . . . . . well, unfair.
“Joe and Julie,” she pointedly reminded him.
Kell sighed heavily. “Well,” he hesitantly offered, “if you’re really sure . . . . . . . .”
Dixie rolled her eyes as she picked up the telephone receiver and dialed for an outside line. “What time do you want to leave?” she asked as she punched in the number for the travel agent.
Despite his misgivings, Kell succumbed to the inevitable and let her make the travel arrangements.
* * * * * * * *
“That could be serious,” she said into the telephone. “What are you planning to do?”
She listened to the answer, then queried, “Isn’t Calvert the best one for that?” Hearing a confirmation, she added, “Then you’ll be taking him to Baltimore?”
The answer caused her to sigh in exasperation. “Now, don’t you worry about a thing, Joe,” she interjected firmly. “I’ll just take the twins into the Center with Stacey and Dillon.”
Dixie paused to listen, then softly berated him. “Don’t be silly; it’s not running out at all, Joe. I can handle things here . . . . . . . . you and Julie need to take care of Edward.” She paused to listen once more.
“Positive!” she exclaimed resolutely. “You travel safely --- and be sure to let me know how it goes.” After a moment, she added, “’Bye,” as she returned the receiver to its cradle.
With a sigh, she paged through the telephone book until she found Rita’s number at home and called to make arrangements to take the twins with her to the hospital in the morning.
* * * * * * * *
“Good morning, Miss McCall.”
Dixie looked up in annoyance. When she and Kell had gotten married, she’d continued to use “McCall” in the hospital to help keep confusion around Emergency to a minimum. But after awhile she’d stopped referring to herself as “Miss McCall,” switching instead to “Nurse McCall.” Everyone seemed to have made the transition without difficulty . . . . . . . . except Carl Sebastian. In the beginning, she’d politely corrected the chairman of the hospital’s board of trustees, but even after all these years he persisted in referring to her as “Miss,” as though he delighted in annoying her with the appellation.
“Things going smoothly?” he asked, unperturbed by her annoyed glare.
“Just fine, Doctor,” she coolly replied as a sudden beep announced an incoming call to the base station. With a quick, “Excuse me,” she turned away to answer the call.
Absorbed in analyzing the information being supplied by the paramedics, Dixie gave the doctor no further thought. Carl Sebastian glared at her for a moment, then turned and walked away, seething.
* * * * * * * *
The phone jangled insistently. Dixie sighed as she reached to answer it. This day had been nothing but ringing phones and a plethora of calls coming into the base station. She could hardly wait for it to be over. “Nurse McCall,” she answered crisply.
“Bad time to call?” asked a familiar voice.
“Joe!” she exclaimed in delight. “Is everything all right?”
“Just fine,” he told her. “It looks as if Julie and I will be back on Sunday . . . . . . . . we’ll stop by the house if that’s all right and fill you in on all the details.”
“What do you mean, ‘if that’s all right’,” she teased with a laugh. “You’d better come by!”
After asking Joe to give Edward her best wishes, she hung up. In spite of all the interruptions, she still needed to get the duty schedule finished. She turned her attention to the task; the remainder of her day was filled with patients and paperwork.
* * * * * * * *
He offered her a friendly smile as he continued with the conversation. “I’m sure you know Doctor Brackett is away at that emergency medicine conference in Denver . . . . . . . . and it’s not easy for Dixie to have to handle everything on her own. It’s been a crazy day in Emergency and since I was going to be up this way, I told her I’d bring the children down . . . . . . . . save her the trip up here.”
Paula looked at him dubiously. Letting him take the children out of the Center was not exactly proper procedure, but he was, after all, the chairman of the board of trustees of the hospital --- and he was only taking the children down to the first floor. How could that be a problem? After a momentary hesitation, she hit upon the solution. Reaching for the sign-out log she prodded, “You’ll sign them out?”
“Of course,” he replied smoothly as he reached for the pen and clipboard. A minute later, he was herding the children toward the elevator.
* * * * * * * *
The banging persisted and, curious, she looked up from the book she was reading. She was in her favorite spot, curled up in the window seat with a book. As she tucked long locks of chestnut hair behind her ears, she looked out the window. Across the street, their neighbor was busy boarding up all the doors and windows with plywood. “Must be going on a trip,” Meaghan thought to herself. “Strange for someone who just got here.”
Shrugging, she dismissed the small, quiet house from her thoughts and returned to her reading. At least in books, families were wonderful things, and the escape the story afforded her kept her from total despair.
* * * * * * * *
“Doctor Sebastian?” she asked in amazement. “Why?”
Paula looked at her in confusion. “He said you were really busy; he was doing it as a favor, to help you.”
“Well,” she offered, rather dubiously, “maybe I just missed him.” Turning to leave, she said, “I guess I’ll go on back downstairs.”
Paula watched her leave, worry nagging at her. The doctor had certainly had enough time to get the children down to the first floor. Maybe she’d made a mistake; maybe she shouldn’t have let him take them at all. Suddenly her first day of work at the Center had turned into a total mess. She knew the doctor was not authorized to sign the children out, but he was a colleague of their mother’s . . . . . . . . how could it have been so wrong?
* * * * * * * *
“Leave? Now? Right this minute?” she repeated incredulously. Meaghan had always known that her parents were disappointed with her. They had wanted a son; instead they got her. Although she’d spent eighteen years trying to make them proud, she knew they were disappointed to have a daughter instead of their precious, longed-for son. But she hadn’t seen this coming at all. “Where should I go?” she asked forlornly.
Her mother shrugged. “I don’t care. You’re eighteen now --- you’re on your own.” She turned away from the girl.
“Here,” her father said as he shoved a cardboard box at her. “Take this junk with you. We don’t want it around here.”
“But . . . . . . . .”
“Go,” he said. Turning away from her, he walked out of the room without a backward glance.
* * * * * * * *
Hot tears stung the back of her eyes. Emotions roiled within her; anger had long since given way to panic . . . . . . . . to absolute fear . . . . . . . . dread loomed darkly over her soul . . . . . . . . terror engulfed her. She knew her children were crying somewhere, afraid . . . . . . . . close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . and she was helpless.
* * * * * * * *
The wind whipped through Meaghan’s long hair, a precursor to the impending storm. She trudged down the driveway with the carton in her arms. What was she going to do? Where could she go? She only had a few dollars . . . . . . . .
The sight of the boarded up house gave her an idea and she hurried toward the back yard. Perhaps she could pry one of the boards loose and take shelter in the empty house. At least she would be out of the storm and she would have time to think.
She put the box down beside the back door and set about working one of the plywood boards off the window. A flash of lightning and a threatening clap of thunder hastened her efforts; finally, the board yielded.
The window was not locked, an unexpected bonus that Meaghan was grateful for . . . . . . . . at least she wouldn’t have to break the glass, too. She worked the window up and started to climb through; remembering the box, she went to retrieve the few possessions that now represented all she had in the world and then climbed into the house through the window, easing the board back into place behind her. It was dark inside; instinctively, she felt along the wall and flipped the light switch, but the electricity was turned off, just as she had expected. No matter, at least she would be dry.
* * * * * * * *
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Whatever it is, tell me and I’ll get it.” Her hand gripped the telephone receiver so hard her knuckles had turned white with the strain.
“What makes you think you could possibly have anything that I would want?” he laughed.
“Please,” she begged . . . . . . . . close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . “My children . . . . . . . .”
“When I’m ready,” he hissed as he slammed down the receiver.
* * * * * * * *
“Are you going to take us home?”
Panicked, Meaghan turned toward the voice. It was pitch black and she could see nothing, for the boarded up windows allowed no light to enter. Digging into her precious carton, she felt around for the flashlight, praying that it would be there. Feeling its familiar shape, she pulled it from the carton and snapped it on; the children squinted and turned their eyes away from the light. She balanced the flashlight so it would shine toward the ceiling. In the dull glow, turned back to look at the children.
Gazing solemnly at her, the two children stood there holding hands and looking rather woebegone.
She stooped down. “My name’s Meaghan,” she said quietly. “I didn’t know you were here. Are you all alone?”
“I’m hungry,” whined another child; the boy took hold of her hand as he said, “I’m Kevin. “That’s Kelsie and Stacey,” he added as he pointed to each of the girls. “Dillon’s asleep.”
She’d seen the man leave after boarding up the house and she had assumed he’d had the children in the car. How could anyone lock up their house and leave little children alone inside like that? They must have been so scared . . . . . . . . “There’s a little market right around the corner,” Meaghan said. “I’m going to go over there and get you something to eat.” She stood to leave. Turning back toward the children, she added, “I’ll leave the flashlight on and I’ll hurry back. Okay?”
The children nodded solemnly; “Okay,” Kevin replied.
Meaghan climbed out the window and started off at a run, hoping to beat the rain. It didn’t take long to reach the market. She didn’t know a whole lot about small children, but she figured bread and peanut butter ought to be pretty good for them, and it didn’t need to be cooked. Grabbing a carton of milk, some juice, and a small package of cookies, she hurried to the front to pay for the groceries. Watching anxiously as the clerk rang up the food, Meaghan heaved a sigh of relief when the total came to a few cents less than the money she had in her pocket. She quickly paid for the groceries and hurried back to the house.
“You came back,” the littler girl whispered as Meaghan climbed in through the window once again.
“Of course I did,” she replied softly. “And I brought you milk and peanut butter. And some chocolate chip cookies.” Meaghan pulled open drawers and cabinets; there were no dishes there. She opened the peanut butter and the bread and, after a moment’s hesitation, dipped a finger into the peanut butter and smeared it around on the bread as best as she could. “Sorry,” she said to the children with a smile, “there’s no knife.”
“Thank you,” Kevin said, wide-eyed, as he took the sandwich she held out to him. As the children ate, Meaghan tried to figure out what to do. Rain had begun to pelt the windows; she supposed it would be better now just to stay here with them and wait until the storm had passed before she did anything more. Then she would take the children to the police station. She was certain that someone there would know exactly what to do.
* * * * * * * *
“Doctor Brackett,” he said as he grabbed up the receiver just before the answering machine kicked in.
“Carl Sebastian. Welcome home, Kell.”
Great. Kell sighed inwardly; he definitely did not need to hear Carl Sebastian grumbling about something or other. “Thanks. It’s good to be home. Is there a problem, Carl?”
Carl chuckled. “I guess that depends on your point of view, Kell. And right now, my view is . . . . . . . . . well, maybe you should come see for yourself.”
Dealing with Carl Sebastian was never one of the highlights of Kell’s day. So how come he had to get caught up in one of Carl’s annoying conundrums when he’d just gotten back from Denver? “What’s that supposed to mean, Carl? Do you need something?”
“Come on over to the Lakeview Inn, Kell. Room 1792 . . . . . . . . I’ll leave the door open for you.”
Kell sighed; “Why would I want to do that? Is something wrong?”
Carl chuckled again, annoying Kell even more. “You could ask your wife about that . . . . . . . .” he replied as he laughed, “when you get here.” He paused to let the implication speak for itself, “Or are you afraid to come see for yourself, Doctor?” he added. Laughing again, and without waiting for an answer, he broke the connection.
Kell looked at the receiver, still clutched in his hand. Angry now, and hurt by Carl’s implication, he slammed down the telephone. He’d assumed Dixie was at the hospital; he called, but she was not on duty. He punched in Joe’s number . . . . . . . . no answer there, either. Carl’s words nagged at him; finally he stormed out the front door.
* * * * * * * *
Dixie checked the numbers on the doors as she walked down the hallway. Finding the right one, she hesitantly knocked at the door.
“It’s open,” Carl called out from inside.
He’d fixed the security lock so that the door did not close completely. She pushed the door open and slowly entered. Her blue eyes swept around the room . . . . . . . . two beds, nightstand . . . . . . . . desk . . . . . . . . entertainment console. Carl was sitting on one of the beds; otherwise, the room was empty. Dixie was surprised; she’d expected to see the children here. Her gaze continued to sweep the room, seeking some clue as to where the children might be.
“Come on in,” Carl invited, graciousness mocking in his voice. Waving in the direction of the other bed, he added, “Sit down.”
“No, thank you,” she replied evenly, praying her voice would not betray her fear . . . . . . . . so close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . “About the children . . . . . . . .”
“Sit down!” he ordered, his voice now harsh and cold.
She sat.
* * * * * * * *
“Come off it, Joe!” Kell railed in annoyance. “She was right there in the hotel room . . . . . . . . with him . . . . . . . . I don’t need a damned blueprint!”
Joe Early was not at all surprised by the bitterness in his voice, but he was certain there was a whole lot more to the story than Kell seemed to know. He strove for reason. “There has to be more to it than that,” he insisted. “Dixie wouldn’t . . . . . . . .”
“Don’t tell me she wouldn’t!” Kell raged. He was completely oblivious to everything except the gnawing pain . . . . . . . . and his growing anger. “She was there! I saw them myself!”
Joe and Julie had unwittingly walked into the middle of things when they’d stopped by, expecting to find Dixie there and planning to tell her the latest news about Edward. Instead, they found themselves sitting in the living room listening to Kelly Brackett rant.
Kell hadn’t really known what to expect; under the best of circumstances he found it difficult dealing with Carl Sebastian. The two men never seemed to agree on anything and were often at loggerheads over some board issue. Still, why would he bring Dixie into the conversation unless . . . . . . . .?
He’d found out soon enough; as promised, the door was open and he’d given it a push and stepped into the room.
“Dix?” He was stunned; after all, he hadn’t really expected to find her in some hotel room with Carl Sebastian.
The trapped look on Dixie’s face said all he needed to know. Disbelief spilled from his eyes; Carl had laughed as he slid over next to her on the bed and casually draped his arm across her shoulders.
“Kell . . . . . . . .” she whispered as she tried unsuccessfully to shrug Carl’s arm away.
Hurt and angry, Kell shook his head, refusing to listen. “You don’t have to bother coming home,” he said bitterly as he turned away. Without another word, he’d walked out of the room.
Now pacing the length of the living room, Kell muttered, “No wonder she was so anxious for me to go off to Denver.”
“Kell, you can’t really believe that . . . . . . . .” Joe began.
“What else is there to believe?” Kell angrily interrupted. “She was there . . . . . . . .”
Julie had had enough. “So . . . . . . . . what?” she demanded. The cold anger and the icy tone of her voice surprised both men and they turned to look at her. Furious, she made no effort to acknowledge them; she was going to have her say . . . . . . . . and, like it or not, Kelly Brackett was going to listen.
“Julie . . . . . . . .” Joe began, but his voice faded away as she turned a withering gaze on him. This was a completely new side of Julie, one he had never seen, never knew existed. And yet, he was not totally surprised. Julie might seem to be quiet and easy-going, but he knew she could be terribly impatient with what she viewed as injustice.
“You just have Carl’s word for why Dixie was there,” she said. “And since when have you taken to accepting Carl’s word at face value?”
Kell sighed and flopped down on the sofa.
“You have no idea what was going on,” she continued as Kell looked up at her. “And even if it was just exactly what you think . . . . . . . . which I very much doubt . . . . . . . . you should have given her the opportunity to explain,” Julie went on, defying him to disagree. She did not give him the opportunity to interrupt. “She’s your wife, Kell . . . . . . . . the mother of your children,” she reminded him. “You owed her at least that much consideration before you passed judgment on her. You know nothing --- except that your damned pride was hurt . . . . . . . . and so you felt obligated to be high-handed and tell her not to bother to come home.” Anger blazed in her emerald eyes. “You were way out of line . . . . . . . . and you were wrong.”
She was absolutely right. And Kell knew it. “Julie . . . . . . . .”
The insistent ring of the doorbell interrupted his feeble attempt at an apology. Kell sighed and headed toward the front door.
Ron Crockett stood on the doorstep, the twins in front of him, still gripping each other’s hands, and Stacey in his arms. A young woman Kell did not know stood beside him, holding Dillon.
“Did you happen to lose something, Doctor?”
* * * * * * * *
The twins launched themselves toward their surprised father. Confused, he gathered them up in his arms and moved back from the door to allow the group to come inside.
* * * * * * * *
“When my parents told me to leave, I didn’t know where to go,” Meaghan continued with a small shrug. “And there was a storm . . . . . . . I thought I could stay in the empty house until it passed.”
“What happened then?” Captain Crockett prompted.
“I pulled a board off one of the windows. It wasn’t locked so I didn’t have to break the glass. I climbed in,” Meaghan said qui-etly. “I know it was wrong, but I had nowhere to go . . . . . . . .”
The police captain smiled gently at her. “I’m sure it won’t be a problem under the circumstances,” he said. “And then?”
“The children were just there. Kevin asked if I had come to take them home.” She looked at Kell. “I saw him come with them, earlier, but I thought they must have been in the car or something when he was boarding up the house. I never thought they would still be inside or I’d have gone over right away!”
“When did you see him come?”
“It was about ten o’clock Wednesday morning,” she replied. “And then he was boarding up the house that afternoon.”
“So the children were in the house from Wednesday morning,” he remarked; pausing to figure the math, he added, “that would be about three days before you found them.”
She nodded her head. “There was no food in the house, so I went out and got them milk and something to eat . . . . . . . . .”
“In the storm?”
Meaghan glared at the police captain. “There’s a little market over on the next block . . . . . . . . they were hungry.” Continuing her story, she added, “So I got them some food, and when the storm passed, I took them over to the police station.”
Stunned silence hung in the air. “Well,” Julie offered after a minute, “I think I’ll just take the children upstairs now . . . . . . . .”
“Would you like some help?” Meaghan hesitantly offered.
Julie nodded and together they led the children from the room.
Kell spread his hands helplessly as he looked at the police captain. “What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
Taking a notepad from his pocket, Crockett replied, “I was hoping you just might be willing to tell me that . . . . . . . .”
“I’ve been in Denver . . . . . . . .” Kell began.
Flipping through the pages in the notepad, he interrupted, “Well, the Lancaster house belongs to . . . . . . . . a Carl Sebastian.” Pausing, he looked up at Kell. “You know him?”
“Carl?” Kell repeated in disbelief. “Carl had my children?”
“Carl’s the chairman of the board of trustees at Rampart,” Joe offered quietly.
“Why would he . . . . . . . .?” Kell muttered as he returned to his pacing. “Dixie . . . . . . . . I have to talk to Dixie.”
“That’s something I’d very much like to do, too,” Crockett put in. “Is she here?”
Kell shook head; turning to face the police captain, he replied, “I have no idea where she is.”
* * * * * * * *
Kell stood at her bedside. Careful not to wake her, he reached out to straighten the blanket, smiling to himself as he smoothed out his sleeping daughter’s covers. Somehow it seemed as if he had been doing this her whole life . . . . . . . .
“You ought to come eat something,” Joe said quietly from the doorway.
Kell nodded and turned away. “Just need to check on Stacey,” he said as he moved into her room. She was sleeping, thumb in mouth, blanket in hand.
Satisfied, he followed Joe downstairs.
With a start, Kell remembered a promise he’d once made to Dixie, a promise that no one would ever take their children away from her. Somehow, he’d managed to go off to Denver, leaving her alone and letting the unspeakable happen in his absence. “Can you stay with the children?” he asked quietly as they walked into the living room.
“Where will you be?” Julie queried.
“Wherever I need to go,” Kell shrugged. “To find her.”
Satisfied with that answer, Julie smiled as she nodded in agreement. Joe slipped his arm around her waist. “We’ll stay here tonight, then take them home with us tomorrow . . . . . . . . Meaghan, too. They’ll be just fine,” he promised.
“Thanks,” Kell replied, knowing full well that Joe had more than enough resources at his command to ensure the children’s safety. Now, if he just had an inkling of an idea where . . . . . . . . It occurred to him, then, that with nowhere to stay, no one to turn to, there was only one place she’d go. Now it was a matter of getting there before she had a chance to disappear again.
* * * * * * * *
Hoping against hope that he’d guessed right, he hurried along the pier, his dark eyes searching. He knew it wasn’t much further. As he worked his way through the crowd, he finally caught sight of her. He froze, as if any hint of movement would make her vanish like a smoke ring in the wind. The lazy breeze played through her hair, blowing long strands across her face. Either she did not notice or she chose to ignore them. She sat unmoving, her gaze seemingly focused on the waves.
He moved quietly, sliding beside her on the bench. “Hasn’t changed a bit,” he offered softly, “and the wind still likes to play in your hair.” He reached out to brush back the errant strands she seemed not to have noticed.
She’d been daydreaming, remembering . . . . . . . . close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . startled by the sound of his voice, she jumped.
“We do need to talk,” he continued as if he had not noticed her discomfiture. “But before we do, you need to know that the children are safe.”
Safe? Her children, safe? . . . . . . . . close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . How could he know about that? How . . . . . . . . “He . . . . . . . . he gave them back to you?” she finally whispered in disbelief.
“No, not exactly,” he replied. “But we have them . . . . . . . . and they’re all right.”
She’d been so worried . . . . . . . . so afraid . . . . . . . . so alone. Overwhelmed by the news, she succumbed to the fear that had built up in her over days of agony and she burst into tears.
Kell slipped his arm around her shoulders as she buried her face in her hands and wept.
Around them, dusk descended.
* * * * * * * *
“You should have called me,” he said at last when she’d finally cried herself out and her sobs had subsided sufficiently for her to even hear him speak.
She lifted her tear-stained face from her hands. “He . . . . . . . . said . . . . . . . . if I told . . . . . . . . if I called the police . . . . . . . . they’d never come home.” More tears slid down her cheeks at that thought.
Kell reached out to brush them away. “Tell me,” he urged gently; “start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”
Dixie shifted on the bench. Swiping at her teary eyes with a bedraggled tissue, she struggled to regain some remnant of composure. She hadn’t expected to see him here; the unexpected news that he had the children and they were really safe had confounded her; she hadn’t even thought about their own situation.
“Dixie?” he softly pressed.
It was all jumbled together. Hesitantly, she worked at unraveling the words. “Joe’s brother . . . . . . . . Joe and Julie had to take him to Baltimore . . . . . . . . Rita said it would be no problem for the twins to come to the Center. But . . . . . . . . at the end of my shift, when I went upstairs to get them . . . . . . . .”
He was surprised she had any tears left. He reached over yet again and lovingly brushed them from her cheek.
“They weren’t there,” she whispered, her eyes downcast. “Paula told me Carl had gotten them. I called his office, but they said he’d left for the day, so I called his service and left a message. He finally called back and told me he had the children . . . . . . . . and he would let me know what I had to do to get them back.” Nervously twisting the tissue, she fell silent.
Kell waited, surprised by his own patience. His anger toward her had long since dissipated; he now realized that had happened just about the time the twins had breathlessly announced that his colleague had spirited them away from Rampart with the promise that he was taking them to their mother. Julie was right --- at the very least, he’d owed her the opportunity to explain.
“I looked everywhere, but I couldn’t find them.” Despair spilled from her eyes. “When he left the note telling me to meet him at the hotel, I thought that meant he was giving them back. I thought I hadn’t found them because it never occurred to me to look in a hotel . . . . . . . .” Her voice drifted away; her eyes remained locked on her hands, now nervously shredding the remnants of the bedraggled tissue. “When you came,” she whispered, “Carl made it look like something it wasn’t, and I know what you thought . . . . . . . .” Suddenly she raised her head and looked at him. Her gaze was steady. “I’d have done anything to get them back. Anything.” She hesitated; “I know that’s a betrayal of everything I promised you . . . . . . . .” Sad-ness spilled from her eyes. “Please try to understand . . . . . . . .”
“Understand, Dixie?” he interrupted. “Do you want to know what I understand?” Although he expected no answer, he paused; silence filled the space between them. Looking into her eyes, he spoke resolutely. “I’ll tell you exactly what I understand.”
She knew what he would say now; she did not want to hear it, but it was his right to say it and she would listen.
“When we lost the baby, I saw the agony in your eyes and I understood that as much as it hurt me, it hurt you even more.”
She looked at him in surprise. Where had that come from?
“When we brought the twins home, after the fire, he continued, “and I watched you singing lullabies to them . . . . . . . . rocking them . . . . . . . . I understood just what it meant to you to be their mother.”
. . . . . . . . this was not at all what she had expected to hear him say . . . . . . . .
“Then Stacey toddled into our lives . . . . . . . . and she wasn’t much for rocking. But she’d climb up in your lap, park her head on your shoulder, plop her thumb in her mouth, and twirl strands of your hair around her finger while you sang to her . . . . . . . . And as I watched the two of you, I understood just how much room there was in your heart for children.”
. . . . . . . . maybe there was still a chance to put it right again, perhaps there was a little glimmer of hope, after all . . . . . . . .
“Then,” he persisted, “it was back to rocking chairs and lullabies when Dillon came along . . . . . . . . Dillon, our unexpected child, our miracle baby that I thought we’d lost before we ever even got him home. I watched you all those days, willing him just to hang on, and I understood the depth of your love for our child.”
She blinked back gathering tears, but remained silent, her thoughts filled with images of the children . . . . . . . . so close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . He’d said they were safe . . . . . . . . but where?
“And now I realize that I never really understood any of it at all.” His gaze met hers, unfaltering, strong. He smiled tenderly; “Now I’ve discovered what our children really mean to you . . . . . . . .” He started to reach out to her, but let his hand fall again; softly, he queried, “There’s no limit to what you’d do, is there? For them you’d endure anything . . . . . . . . do anything . . . . . . . . make any sacrifice . . . . . . . .”
“After you left,” she whispered, suddenly anxious to be finished with the telling, “Carl was pleased with himself for making you think that he, that we . . . . . . . .” Her voice drifted away and she let the thought drop. After a time, she went on. “He told me to leave . . . . . . . . I asked for the children.” . . . . . . . . so close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . “He laughed . . . . . . . . told me . . . . . . . . I’d never see them again . . . . . . . . that they were gone forever . . . . . . . .”
The pain in her voice was like a knife through his heart and soul.
“I had nothing left, then . . . . . . . . and nowhere to go . . . . . . . .” She shrugged helplessly; “Somehow, I ended up here . . . . . . . .” She sighed heavily; her nerves were frayed and raw; she was numb now, long past the ability to cope any further.
“It’s time to go home,” Kell suggested quietly.
Dixie looked up, uncomprehending. After a moment, she reminded him, “You said . . . . . . . . not to come home.” No anger, no accusation . . . . . . . . her voice was a flat monotone.
Silence engulfed them, broken only by the screech of gulls and the lapping of the waves against the pilings of the pier. “I’m sorry,” Kell sighed in frustration. “I was wrong.” He looked at her, dark eyes imploring. “Please . . . . . . . . I want you to come home.” After a moment, he offered, “The children need you.”
Dixie felt as if she were wading through Jell-O. She couldn’t seem to make sense of things. She found it difficult to concentrate on whatever it was that Kell was saying . . . . . . . . her mind kept wandering to the children . . . . . . . . so close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain, wave good-bye to cares of the day . . . . . . . . Finally, she managed, “What do you want?”
“I want . . . . . . . . I need you to come home,” he said quietly. And he recognized that that was the plain and simple truth of it.
She looked at him blankly, her eyes vaguely glassy. Kell realized she had reached the end of her coping capability; she was on overload. He reached out to draw her into his arms; she permitted the embrace in silence. He encouraged her to stand; his arm around her, supporting her, they slowly walked away.
* * * * * * * *
“I don’t think she’s eaten in days, either,” he said into the telephone. “Right now, she’s out . . . . . . . . I think she was asleep long before her head even came close to a pillow . . . . . . . .”
He listened, then gratefully said, “Thanks, Joe . . . . . . . . I’ll call you tomorrow.” He returned the receiver to its cradle and moved across the room to sit in the armchair beside the bed.
He spent the night watching over her as she slept.
* * * * * * * *
Behind the heavy drapes, sunlight spilled over the courtyard. Kell shifted in the chair as Dixie’s eyes finally fluttered open. He reached over to brush dark blonde hair back from her face. “Morning, Sleepyhead,” he grinned.
Dixie turned her head as she gazed around the room. She looked at him in confusion; “Where . . . . . . . .?”
Kell chuckled. “You needed to get some sleep,” he offered with a shrug. “Hungry?”
Dixie considered for a moment. “I don’t know,” she replied absently, “I guess so . . . . . . . .”
He’d gotten up and crossed the room. “How about . . . . . . . . scrambled eggs and toast?” he offered with a grin as he turned and held a plate out to her.
Dixie looked up at him, incredulous. “Where’d you . . . . . . . .?” She abandoned the question as she drifted into silence.
Kell laughed. “Room service,” he said with a smile as he handed her the plate and turned his attention to pouring some coffee for both of them. Then he settled back in the chair once again, content just to watch her. As she pushed scrambled eggs around on the plate, Kell quietly queried, “Feeling better now?”
Dixie shrugged. “Could I ask you something?” she asked as she hesitantly closed her mouth around a forkful of eggs.
“Anything.” To Kell’s relief, she seemed a bit better than she’d been when they’d sat on their bench at the wharf and talked.
Dixie considered. “I know we talked yesterday . . . . . . . . last night . . . . . . . . at the pier. But . . . . . . . . I can’t . . . . . . . . it’s all jumbled up. You said the children were safe? You have them?”
Kell nodded. “They’re fine. Julie and Joe are taking care of them right now.”
“They’re back?” She absently nibbled at a corner of the toast. “What about Edward?”
“Edward’s doing fine,” Kell reported, “and, yes, they’re back.”
“The kids . . . . . . . . they’re all right? How did you . . . . . . . .?”
Kell reached for her hand. “They’re okay . . . . . . . . it’s kind of complicated, but I’ll tell you all about it . . . . . . . .”
“They . . . . . . . . I . . . . . . . . I want to see them . . . . . . . .”
“Finish your breakfast,” Kell laughed softly. “We still have plenty of time . . . . . . . . the earliest reservation I could get was late this afternoon.”
Dismissing the travel plans, she nodded and turned her attention to the eggs; after a moment, she pushed the plate aside and turned to look at him. “Kell, I’m . . . . . . . . I . . . . . . . . I don’t understand what this is all about. Why would Carl take the children?”
Kell shrugged helplessly as he shook his head. “I have no idea,” he replied. “I haven’t seen him since . . . . . . . .” A pained look flitted across her face and he rapidly pushed the thought away. “. . . . . . . . anyway, Ron Crockett brought the kids home.” That pointed her thoughts in a different direction and, not willing to let her dwell on the horrifying details of the past week, he barreled on. “Seems he has a house out in Lancaster, and that’s where he took the kids.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Lancaster?”
“A local girl found them at the house and took them to the police right away,” Kell went on. A rather shortened version of events, he realized, but she really did seem to be coping a bit better this morning and he did not want to risk upsetting her all over again with the fact that Carl had left their children alone for three days in a house he’d boarded up and abandoned. Time enough later for all those sorts of details . . . . . . . .
Pulling her hand away, she suddenly said, “I can’t go back.”
“Of course you can,” he countered, surprised by the unexpected shift in the conversation and saddened that even after all he had said, she still felt she could not return home. “Please . . . . . . . . I really do want you to come back home.”
Dixie turned to look at him. “No, I didn’t mean not going home,” she said. “I can’t go back to Rampart.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “He’ll be right there and . . . . . . . .”
Kell shook his head as he reached over to take hold of her hand once again. “I don’t think so, Dix. By the time the police get through with him, I think he’ll be in a jail cell somewhere.”
“Jail?” she interrupted in surprise, as if that had never occurred to her.
“Well, I don’t know too much about how these things work, but I should think that the police would have arrested him by now.” Kell reached out to take hold of her other hand as well. “Dix, he . . . . . . . . took our children . . . . . . . . that’s kidnapping . . . . . . . . he can’t get away with that. He won’t get away with it.”
“I suppose,” she murmured. “I didn’t think about that part of it. I couldn’t think about anything except . . . . . . . .”
“Sssshhh, Sweetheart, don’t think about it at all right now.” He moved to brush his hand through her hair; she reached up and took hold of his hand, stopping him.
“Kell,” she whispered tearfully, “was I was wrong not to call the police?”
He shrugged. “It’s done now, Dix . . . . . . . . you can’t change it, so try not to worry about it so much.”
“He said . . . . . . . . he said they’d never come home . . . . . . . . I was so scared . . . . . . . .”
Kell could hear the echoes of panic behind her words. He reached out to gently place his fingers over her mouth, hushing her. “Ssshhhh, Sweetheart.” A moment later, he whispered, “I have never loved you more than I do right at this moment.”
Caught off-guard, she smiled at him as she looked into his eyes. “Always and ever,” she whispered through the tears now silently slipping down over her cheeks.
“I have a shoulder,” he quietly offered, “for crying on . . . . . . . . or for resting your head on . . . . . . or . . . . . . . .”
“Any chance it could maybe . . . . . . . . come with a hug?”
“Anything you want,” he replied as he moved from the chair to the edge of the bed and gently pulled her into his embrace. As he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug and rocked her, he whispered, “Now and forever, Angel Eyes.”
* * * * * * * *
“They always say that, Dixie,” he responded with just a tinge of exasperation in his voice.
Dixie looked across the desk at the police captain, her eyes brimming with tears she was somewhat less than successful in controlling. Her voice was low; he strained to hear her words. “I thought,” she sniffled in explanation, “that if I did exactly what he said, he’d give them back.”
Vexed, Ron Crockett sighed. Kidnappings were always difficult cases . . . . . . . . and the parents always thought that. But the truth of the matter, Crockett knew, was that this was a very strange case and not at all the typical kidnapping case they tended to see in the department. Given the facts, he had come to believe that it was actually possible that Carl Sebastian would have made good on his threat if she had called in the police.
Kelly Brackett was silent. He’d pulled his chair over next to hers and now sat with his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders. The look in his eyes made it crystal clear that he had no intention of allowing the police captain . . . . . . . . friend or not . . . . . . . . to make this one bit more difficult for her than it already was.
Shifting in his chair, he looked at the two of them. “Nothing in this case fits any sort of pattern; none of it makes any sense,” he offered softly. “So maybe this one time you were right to follow his instructions.” He paused as she offered a hint of a relieved smile. “Do you have any idea why he might have taken the children from the hospital in the first place?”
“None,” Kell answered as Dixie shook her head in bewilderment.
“Well, a warrant’s been issued and I have officers on the way out to pick him up now; maybe he’ll be gracious enough to explain it to me . . . . . . . .” Interrupted by the ring of the telephone, he sighed as he picked it up. “Crockett.”
* * * * * * * *
And the livin’ is easy
Fish are jumpin’
And the cotton is high
Oh, your daddy’s rich and your mama’s good lookin’
So hush, little baby
Don’t you cry
One of these mornin’s
You’re gonna rise up, singin’
Then you’ll spread your wings
And you’ll take to the sky
Until that mornin’
With daddy and mommie
Standin’ by
One of these mornin’s
You’re gonna wake up, you’re gonna wake up, singin’
And take to the sky
Until that morning
There’s nothing can harm you
With daddy and mammie
Standin’ by
Summertime . . . . . . .
Standing by . . . . . . . . that’s exactly what he was doing, Kell thought to himself as he listened to her croon the soft lullaby. Standing by, making certain nothing more would harm their children. Content but vigilant, Kell leaned against the wall, his eyes riveted to her, watching. Dixie was in a world all her own, existing for the moment only to sing lullabies as she gently rocked Dillon. This was her fourth go-round; he’d already watched as she’d gone through this exact same ritual with the other three children. As they’d fallen asleep in her lap, he had taken them, one by one, and tucked them into bed; soon he would do the same with Dillon.
Kell found himself torn between a compelling desire to go after Carl and a gripping need to stay with his family, to guard them, to ensure their safety. He found it difficult to squelch his worries about Dixie . . . . . . . . he knew how distraught he felt himself, and he’d only had to live through the aftermath of the whole ordeal. He’d never even known that the children were gone until they had been returned. Dixie, on the other hand, had had to live with that terror . . . . . . . . locking doors and windows had become almost a compulsion with her these days. She slept upstairs now; he could hear her repeatedly going to check on the children, to assure herself that they were still sleeping in their beds where they belonged. He knew, too, that the children were having some trouble themselves coping with all that had happened . . . . . . . . . This morning he’d found all of them huddled together in a heap on the sofa in the living room, sleeping with Dixie, and he knew they needed her reassurance that they were safe now. He couldn’t even begin to guess how traumatized they felt . . . . . . . . Dillon clung to his mother and Kevin was much more solemn than was his usual style. Kelsie had reverted to the silence of her earlier years and it seemed to him as if Stacey’s eyes held a permanently haunted look . . . . . . . .
Finally satisfied that Dillon was asleep, Dixie smiled as she relinquished him to his father’s arms. He gently lifted their son from her lap and headed off to tuck him into bed.
Alert and watchful, her eyes remained glued to the sleeping child cradled in his arms as he carefully climbed the stairs.
* * * * * * * *
Try as she might, Dixie could not shake the persistent feeling that her children’s safety was now irrevocably tied to her own vigilance. She’d tried to convince herself that everything would be fine now that Kell was back and they had the children home where they belonged . . . . . . . . that Carl would never be able to steal them away from her again . . . . . . . .
Kell came over to the side of the rocking chair. “You’re certainly far away,” he gently teased. “You okay?”
Startled from her worried reverie, Dixie glanced up at him as she worked at pushing her concern aside for a moment. “I was just thinking . . . . . . . . how very much I love you,” she said with a soft smile. She was surprised at that until she realized it was the truth. In spite of her fears for the children’s safety, she knew that as long as he was here, they would be all right . . . . . . . . . and for this moment, the love she felt for him in her heart was all that was keeping her functioning in the face of her fear.
“Phew!” he bantered playfully. “Lucky for me!”
Dixie laughed . . . . . . . . and Kell relished the sound of her laughter.
The chiming of the doorbell interrupted just as he leaned down to kiss her.
* * * * * * * *
“It’ll only take a minute to get some coffee . . . . . . . .” Dixie offered as she crossed the room to great him. “It’s really no trouble at all . . . . . . . .”
Ron Crockett shook his head. “No . . . . . . . . thanks anyway. I can only stay a minute. This is official business.”
“Sit down,” Kell invited as he sat on the sofa beside Dixie and instinctively put a protective arm around her shoulders.
“I didn’t want for you to have to hear about this on the news or read it in the morning paper,” Crockett began.
“Hear about what?” Kell asked as a feeling of dread suddenly settled itself over him.
“Carl Sebastian,” Crockett said.
Dixie stiffened; Kell tightened his grip and took hold of her hand.
“He had a heart attack a couple of hours ago. We called the paramedics . . . . . . . . He . . . . . . . . he didn’t make it.”
Silence settled around them. For a long minute, no one spoke.
Crockett broke the silence. “That will be in the paper in the morning . . . . . . . . as will the facts of his arrest.” Dixie looked at him in alarm; he hastened to provide her with an explanation. “It’s a matter of public record, and given his prominence in the medical community, it’s sure to be reported in the papers. But the identity of minor children in such cases is protected by law; you won’t see their names . . . . . . . . or yours . . . . . . . . connected to the case in any way.”
Dixie sighed in relief. The last thing she wanted was for her children to be front-page news.
“We found some documents in his desk,” Ron said quietly. “And a journal. Apparently he was angry with you, Kell, over some matters having to do with the hospital board . . . . . . . . According to the entries he made, he was livid . . . . . felt they’d sided with you against him . . . . . . . .”
This wasn’t exactly news to Kell; he wondered why the police captain had even brought it up. “What’s that got to do with anything?” Even as he asked the question, though, he had a fleeting sense of foreboding. Carl was well-known for holding a grudge, but he had also been a doctor, a colleague . . . . . . . .
Crockett took a deep breath, hoping he wasn’t about to bring more trauma raining down on his friends. He’d found that, in the end, it was always best to be truthful and he was committed to this telling. “According to his journal, he concocted this whole thing . . . . . . . . taking the children . . . . . . . . as a sort of revenge . . . . . . . . a way to get back at you . . . . . . . .”
Kell felt as if he had been rammed in the stomach with a two-by-four. All this . . . . . . . . hell . . . . . . . . all that Dixie had been put through . . . . . . . . the terror the children had endured . . . . . . . . all because Carl was angry at him? The last time they’d crossed swords had been over the hospital remaining in the county paramedic program. “My God, Dix, I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“Not your fault,” she answered softly as a tear trickled down her cheek. “You are not to blame for Carl’s vindictiveness . . . . . . . .”
“I suppose not,” Kell interrupted as he reached out to brush his hand across her cheek, “but if I’d only known . . . . . . . .”
“How are the children doing?” Crockett asked in an attempt to shift their attention.
Kell sighed. “Fair,” he replied in a voice tinged with pain. “We leave lights on everywhere because they’re afraid of the dark now and Stacey keeps taking boxes of crackers out of the pantry . . . . . . . . we’re doing just great.”
“In time . . . . . . . .?
Kell nodded. “In time, they’ll be okay.” He fervently hoped that that was the truth. Lord knew he’d do anything he had to do to make it be so.
“Well, that’s all I came for,” the police captain said as he rose. “I’d better be going.”
Kell walked with him to the door. “Thanks for coming, for letting us know,” he offered.
Crockett silently nodded as he left. There was nothing more he could do . . . . . . . . he’d done what was possible; the rest would be up to them. Sometimes the aftermath of his police work was a whole lot tougher than it had any right to be.
* * * * * * * *
Sighing heavily, he shifted in the chair. No matter how he’d tried to couch the explanation, it still sounded impossible . . . . . . . . absurd . . . . . . . . unbelievable, even to him. And yet . . . . . . . . Reaching across the desk, he offered a sheaf of papers to serve as confirmation of this anathema. After several minutes of silence, he spoke quietly. “All I’m asking for is some time. But if that’s not possible, then I have no choice . . . . . . . .” He held out an envelope. “I have a letter of resignation . . . . . . . .”
Startled by the unexpected remark, Nathan O’Brien looked up. He’d been thumbing through the police report, still trying to comprehend the incredulous chain of events Kelly Brackett had just outlined for him. “A letter of resignation?” he queried in confusion.
“Look, Nathan,” Kell began as he stood up and walked over to the window, “I’m not trying to put you on the spot here.” He’d already considered all the options, weighed the consequences of his decision; he knew where he needed to place his priorities. “But Dixie and the kids need . . . . . . . .”
“You don’t have to hand in your resignation to take care of your family,” Nathan interrupted, hoping to reassure the doctor he desperately wanted to keep on his staff. “We need you here, Kell, and I hope you’ll consider remaining on the Rampart staff,” the hospital administrator added as he gathered his thoughts together and worked at offering the man some much-needed support. “You and Dixie can have the time . . . . . . . . as much of it as you need . . . . . . . . come back whenever you’re ready. It’ll be no problem at all.”
“Well, that’s not quite true,” Kell responded with a small laugh as he paced the floor in front of the administrator’s desk. “I know it will be a problem for you, and I’m sorry to be putting you in this position. But taking care of the kids has to be our first concern right now.”
“Of course it does,” Nathan agreed with a nod as Kell finally gave up the pacing and settled back in the chair once again. “It’s just . . . . . . . . this is all so unbelievable . . . . . . . .”
“Tell me about it,” Kell sighed. After a long moment, he broke the silence to add, “If you want, Joe Early’s willing to run the department temporarily . . . . . . . .”
Not at all surprised, Nathan nodded. The fast friendship between the two doctors was common knowledge around the hospital. He struggled to find some small glimmer of objectivity in this mind-boggling situation. Administrative details offered him that. “How long do you think you’ll be away?”
Kell shrugged helplessly as he pocketed the unneeded letter. “I have no idea. A few weeks . . . . . . . . a couple of months?”
“Have you considered some counseling? Especially for the twins?”
“Yeah, we’ve talked about it,” Kell acknowledged. “But not here, not at Rampart.” He leaned forward as he continued, his words growing more forceful. “One thing we absolutely do not want is for all this to become common knowledge --- or turn out to be fodder for the infamous Rampart gossip mongers.” He shifted in the chair as he slid to the edge of the seat. “And I definitely don’t want Dixie walking down the hallway hearing conversations about Carl having taken her kids . . . . . . . .”
“No, no . . . . . . . . of course not,” Nathan hastily agreed.
“Besides,” Kell continued as he settled back in the chair, “making this whole mess public knowledge wouldn’t do much to enhance the hospital’s reputation in the community . . . . . . . .”
“I should think Rampart’s reputation would be the last thing you’d be concerned about,” Nathan speculated.
“Come on, Nathan. We don’t blame the hospital,” Kell said quietly. “Carl did this on his own, out of some twisted need for revenge.” He paused, lost in thought, silent. After a moment, Kell gave himself a mental shake and added, “If it’s possible, both Dixie and I would like to keep on working here . . . . . . . . and doing that will be a whole lot easier if everyone on the staff is not privy to all the details of this . . . . . . . . situation.” As the administrator nodded, Kell reminded him, “Fortunately, Ron Crockett managed to keep most of it out of the press . . . . . . . .”
“Well, I’m certain the board will be grateful for that,” Nathan surmised. “It’s just that this is all so inconceivable . . . . . . . . .” The look that crossed Kell’s face made him hurriedly abandon the thought. Working to refocus his thoughts, he murmured, “I never would’ve thought Carl could do such a thing. . . . . . . .”
“Me, neither,” Kell concurred, an edge of bitterness evident in his tone. “But he did. And now . . . . . . . .”
As far as Nathan O’Brien was concerned, this decision had been made the instant Kelly Brackett had made his request. “You and Dixie take whatever time you need, Kell,” he said as he stood. “I’ll handle the details with the board myself.”
“Thank you,” Kell said as he rose and held out his hand.
“Good luck,” Nathan said as the two men shook hands. “Let me know if you need anything at all.” An awkward silence settled in the office; there was really nothing more to be said.
Kell nodded as he turned and left. The elevator delivered him to the first floor and he followed the corridor through Emergency until he reached his own office. He gathered up a few things from the desk and scrawled a brief note for Joe. After taking a quick glance around the room, he slowly walked out. The emergency doors automatically swished closed behind him. Never once looking back, Kelly Brackett headed for home.
* * * * * * * *
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered as she shifted her tearful gaze from one to the other. “Why would you even think of doing something like that?”
“We certainly didn’t mean to upset you, Meaghan,” Julie soothed as she reached across the table to take hold of her hand.
“No, no,” Meaghan hastened to reply, “I’m not upset. It’s just that . . . . . . . . I never expected you to . . . . . . . .”
Watching and listening, Joe sipped his coffee. He’d agreed to let Julie handle this . . . . . . . . somehow or other, it was not going quite as they had anticipated. He pondered the advisability of putting his own two cents worth into the conversation. He was sure that Julie could manage, but there was always the chance that both their voices together would sway her . . . . . . . .
“. . . . . . . . it’s just that we had hoped . . . . . . . . .” Julie was explaining.
“Meaghan, it’s as simple as this . . . . . . . . we’ve enjoyed having you here and you’re welcome to stay for as long as you like,” Joe suddenly interrupted.
“I’ve already imposed on your hospitality long enough . . . . . . . .” she murmured.
He looked at her in surprise. “Imposed? You’ve done no such thing. In fact, it’s just the opposite.” He paused to smile at her. “Meaghan, we want you to consider this your home . . . . . . . .”
“I . . . . . . . . my home?”
“If you want,” he smiled. “Julie and I would like you to stay. You’d have a place to live; you could go to college or do whatever you wanted . . . . . . . .”
“Why would you even care?” Julie asked in confusion as her tears finally spilled over. “My parents don’t . . . . . . . .”
“I cannot understand that,” Joe told her with a sad shake of his head. “You are a very special young lady.”
“You really want me to stay?”
Joe nodded. “Nothing would make us happier than having you stay here, Meaghan.”
She smiled back at them. “You’ve been so kind . . . . . . . . I wouldn’t want to disappoint you . . . . . . . .” she whispered.
“I don’t think you could ever disappoint us, Meaghan,” Joe laughed. Turning toward Julie, he suggested, “Didn’t I hear you say something about cutting that chocolate cake?”
Not trusting her voice, Julie nodded as she stood and crossed the room to get three dessert plates from the china closet.
* * * * * * * *
The drive had taken longer than they’d anticipated; consequently the children were all sound asleep when they finally pulled into the driveway.
“You go unlock the door,” Kell said; “I’ll get the kids.”
Dixie knew the children were too heavy for her to carry herself; Kell would never allow it. So she dug out her key, unlocked the door, and turned on the lights as, one by one, he carried the children into the house and put them in their beds. “Just take off their shoes,” she’d instructed as he climbed the stairs yet again. “It won’t hurt them to sleep in their clothes . . . . . . . .”
Kell, now bringing the last child into the house, chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“The kids, except Dillon, took off their shoes before we ever got here!” Turning toward her, he added, “Why don’t you get his?”
As Kell stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding Dillon, she quickly untied his sneakers and gently pulled them off. Before Kell could start up the stairs, she leaned over to kiss her son’s cheek as she whispered, “Good night.”
She watched as he cradled Dillon in his arms, wondering if it was possible that he might’ve come to the same realization . . . . . . . .
In the midst of all that had happened, she had suddenly discovered that their relationship, attraction kindled into friendship and mutual respect then nurtured into a lasting love, had been irrevocably changed. Dixie silently wondered if there were any words to explain the shift. She was not at all sure that she could find the right words, but her heart and soul certainly understood. The love she felt for this man had been . . . . . . . . transformed . . . . . . . . had evolved . . . . . . . . and he alone was responsible for the change. How could it be otherwise? How could she not feel differently?
Although she was not altogether certain as to the reason, she knew with unfailing certainty that his love for his children had transformed their own love into something she could not identify. He’d always been a gentle father, attentive and caring, but in dealing with the children in the aftermath of all this, she’d seen a different kind of gentleness, coupled with a fierce protectiveness that defied description. No matter, though, for the end result was that she shared his concerns and now somehow or other found herself even more in love with him . . . . . . . . a love nurtured by the joy that filled her heart as she watched him with their children. It certainly resisted explanation, but it was, she realized, the very essence of what now made them one forever. It did not surprise her at all to discover that in the midst of all the terror this taste of joy was so overwhelming that it actually hurt. Dixie made no move to escape.
* * * * * * * *
Quietly coming up behind her, he slipped his arms around her waist and planted a kiss on the back of her neck.
“Mmmmmmm,” she sighed happily as she leaned back against him. “Do that again and breakfast will burn for sure. . . . . . . .” she promised with a laugh.
He chuckled as he released his hold on her and turned to get plates out of the cabinet. Clomping footsteps on the stairs announced the impending arrival of the children and he grabbed forks on his way into the breakfast room.
“Pancakes!” squealed Stacey in delight. “With blueberries?”
Dixie laughed as she looked over at her daughter. “Of course!”
“Yippee!” Stacey cheered as Kell came back into the kitchen.
“Yippee, what?” chuckled Kell as he grabbed hold of her and swung her around. In between giggles she managed a triumphant, “Blueberries!”
Laughing, Kell set her down in the doorway and she scooted off into the breakfast room. He turned to take the plate of pancakes Dixie had dished up; she stirred the syrup one last time, then ladled some into small pitchers for each of the children. “Here, take this, too,” she said as she held out a small dish of blueberries.
“Stacey?” he grinned.
“Who else?” she laughed as she carefully clasped her hands around the small syrup pitchers.
Home was a wonderful place in which to find yourself.
* * * * * * * *
“We’ve certainly missed you around here!” he exclaimed as they exchanged greetings and pleasantries while he ushered them over to the sofa.
Kell grinned. “I suppose that means we can come back, then?”
Nathan O’Brien laughed lightly. “The sooner, the better!”
“Monday?” Kell suggested.
The administrator nodded. Turning serious, he addressed the question he was certain was on both their minds. “No one knows why you were on leave from the hospital . . . . . . . . not even the board. So you don’t have to be concerned about any of that coming up . . . . . . . .”
“Thank you,” Kell replied, his voice husky with gratitude. “I’m sure the board was less than happy to be kept in the dark, but we appreciate you keeping the details to yourself.”
“So no one else knows?”
“Only a handful of people,” Kell replied somberly. “Meaghan --- she’s the one that found the kids . . . . . . . . the police . . . . . . . . my father . . . . . . . . and Joe and Julie, of course.”
“Of course,” Nathan responded with a knowing nod. He’d already figured Joe Early had been clued in early on. “We’ll do everything possible to keep it that way,” he added.
“Thank you,” Kell replied appreciatively. “For that . . . . . . . . and for giving us the time . . . . . . . .”
Nathan dismissed his thanks with a wave of his hand. “Forget it. Just come back to work!”
The three shared a laugh. It was good to be home.
* * * * * * * *
Despite her best efforts, chaos had clearly overtaken her control.
Patients were being cycled through the treatment rooms as quickly as they could be examined and cared for; the waiting room was packed. Tempers were short.
“. . . . . . . . treatment room six,” she said into the telephone as she pulled on the cord to allow herself room enough to walk around the counter and grab hold of the toddler wandering straight toward the elevator. “Right away,” she answered into the receiver as she diverted the child. Reaching over the counter to return the receiver to its cradle, she found herself face to face with one of the three motorcycle riders that had been parked in the waiting room for the last three hours. He’d lost the leather jacket somewhere along the way, and he was now fingering the long chain hanging from his belt.
Striving to head off a confrontation, she smiled as she said, “The x-rays should be down any minute now. As soon as the doctor has evaluated them . . . . . . . .”
“We’ve been here long enough,” he growled as he took a step toward her.
Feeling somewhat menaced, Dixie took a step backward, but did not back down. “I’m sorry. If you’ll just sit down . . . . . . . .” There was nowhere left to go --- the counter was at her back now and he blocked her way. Frightened, the child wriggled out of her grasp; Dixie turned her attention to recapturing the wayward youngster.
“I’ve been sitting long enough,” he grumbled petulantly as he idly twirled the length of chain.
“We’re doing the best we can . . . . . . . .” she replied as she ducked beneath his arm and, taking a step, reached out for the toddler’s arm.
“Well, that’s not good enough!”
The child dodged away from Dixie; she moved away from the counter.
“Don’t you walk away from me!” he hollered as he grabbed for her. As he released the chain to grab her, his movement caused it to swing wildly.
Startled, Dixie turned . . . . . . . and the toddler wandered right into the path of the swinging chain.
His voice had reached shouting pitch; as a hospital security guard came around the corner to investigate, Kell came out of the treatment room to see what was causing the furor. He saw the danger; even as he moved to intercede, he knew he would not get there in time.
Dixie stepped forward to grab the child; the swinging chain caught her arm about the same time as he made a grab for her. The grab became a shove as he stumbled over the child and Dixie staggered backward, slamming into the wall. The security guard hollered for help as the other motorcycle riders jumped in, creating a noisy fray. The startled toddler wailed and the mother finally came over to take charge of her child.
In the midst of all the commotion, Dixie slid to the floor just as a concerned Kell managed to dodge his way through the corridor to reach her side.
Dixie offered the anxious head of Emergency a rather frustrated roll of her eyes as she found herself suddenly crumpled into an undignified heap on the floor. With an aggravated sigh, she observed, “It sure is nice to know some things never change!”
In spite of himself, Kell chuckled as he helped her to her feet.
* * * * * * * *
“Sometimes I think we need Security stationed in Emergency just as a matter of course,” Kell grumbled as he watched her brush her hair.
“It’s not that bad, Kell,” Dixie soothed. “Things just get . . . . . . . . testy . . . . . . . . once in a while . . . . . . . .” She put the brush down on the dressing table and turned to face him. “Sick people aren’t generally on their best behavior, you know!” she teased.
“I suppose not,” Kell sighed in preoccupied agreement. “But you could have gotten hurt . . . . . . . .”
“I’m fine,” she responded as she crossed the room. She leaned over to deliver a kiss.
“Mmmmmmm,” Kell murmured, “fine indeed!” As he returned the kiss, he pulled her down beside him.
Comfortable in his embrace, Dixie turned her attention to making him forget his concerns about the hospital for a little while. Tomorrow there would be time enough for that. . . . . . . . tonight was theirs alone.
. . . . . . . . just we two, smiling through . . . . . . . .
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Song Notes for this Dixie McCall story:
Hushabye Mountain [from the film Chitty Chitty Bang Bang]
Richard M. Sherman / Robert B. Sherman
Summertime
George Gershwin / Dubose Heyward
Bye, Bye Blues
Lown / Gray / Bennett / Hamm
